If you read the last post, you should have noticed that I claimed to be very inspired at Amber Fort. Throughout my time in India, I spent a lot of time writing down my thoughts. Here’s a piece inspired by one of those rants:
The history of Amber Fort is beyond me. All I know are tidbits of information I heard while eavesdropping on passing tours. The palatial structure atop a set of hills a few minutes away from the center of Jaipur was once the home to the almighty maharaja and his wives. The grandeur of the fort was different from a place like the Taj Mahal; it felt grungier, dirtier, more authentic, and a little further off the beaten path.
As I walked around the labyrinthine fort, I found myself getting lost over and over again. It was a huge maze with infinite ways of getting through it. Up one staircase was one of the highest views from the top of the edifice looking down into the lake below. Turn right and you end up in a dingy and dank dungeon. Turn left and you end up at a beautifully restored garden. At either place, you find a dark and narrow hallway with several doors leading to more dark and narrow hallways. Along the way, I found some tiny rooms, intricately adorned verandas, and also stumbled upon what I realized was an old-style bathroom. There were stairs upon stairs leading to more chambers, more locked doors, and more dead ends. Regardless of where I went, there was something waiting to be found.
Wandering around and getting lost was cathartic in a way. It was exactly what I needed at this point in my journey through India, around the world, and in life. Since there was something new everywhere I looked, each step was a surprise. I gravitated towards different things and let my legs lead me. I just had to trust my instincts. I had no expectations, either, and whether or not I ended up at one of the rooftop views or at another pissing palace was irrelevant. Each thing was a surprise, and each thing was not any more interesting than the other. I found this to be a great metaphor for my trip.
You must allow yourself to get lost because you never know what you might find. Of course, you might run into some bathrooms. They stink, but they’re inevitable. You may also find some of those rooftop views. They’re beautiful, but they’re not necessarily the things you really came to see. You may encounter some locked doors, but those are just a hurdle to work around in order to get to something even better. Those things and everything in between come together in order form the whole experience. Also, there are no wrong turns. In each place, every nook and cranny, there was something new to examine and explore. You think that you’re lost, but you’re really just finding your own way, creating a singular path. This, my friend, is life.
I was so glad to have realized this while in India. I have felt incredibly lost throughout my time here. But that’s truly not the case. My journey through India, and by extension, through life, was all one big palace full of stairs, hallways, bathrooms, rooftop views, locked doors, and everything else the world decided to throw in my face. The concept of being lost implies that there is a destination and specific way of getting there. Who determines either of these things? It’s really just an artificial boundary that we create for ourselves. In the labyrinthine fort that is life’s journey, there is no correct way of making the rounds. There is no such thing as being lost. It’s all about losing your inhibitions, taking the next turn, following where it leads, and rolling with the punches.
I learned a lot here, and this was one thing that I found the most profound. I know that I will continue to learn a lot as I travel around the world. And I also hope to always stay lost because there’s nothing worse than living a life already planned. So keep wandering. You might just end up in India.
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