How I lost my zen crossing the road in India

It was 10 days into our India trip before I said the f-word.

I muttered ‘oh my god’ and ‘shit’ in disbelief a few times, and glared at Lyden with wide eyes—speechless—many more. In these moments, I held onto the auto rickshaw a bit tighter; walked further into the road to avoid deathly potholes; or tried not to breathe in so much.

Nevertheless, I continued to bounce around like an eager tourist, thirsty to find out why so many people fall in love with this country. On day 10 I lost my zen…