Today I want to tell you a story that will stay in my mind for the rest of my life. I was on my way to the Taj Mahal, walking along the busy streets of Agra. The distinct smell of India, hot masala chai, golden deep-fried puri, cloves, aniseed, curry leaves, jasmine, sandalwood, the smell of decay and rotting garbage. Dogs, pigs, donkeys, peacocks adding to the already crowded streets. Cows lying in the middle of the road, the rattling of bells on anything that moves, the endless honking of traffic. Here, beauty surpasses ugliness and ugliness surpasses beauty. I think because India contains the polarities of life it offers us a glimpse into ourselves. I find India beautiful not only because of the physical beauty of its buildings, art, and the richness of its ancient culture, but that it tells the truth, in all its beauty and ugliness. True beauty is not superficial. It’s a mess, a tangle of both beauty and ugliness.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw the first shimmering whiteness of the Taj Mahal in the distance. I wanted to prolong this anticipation so I stopped to grab a bite at a food stall.
There was this street kid of about 10 stood nearby, watching me. She was in dirty rags. Her hair was thick and grey with dust. Every time I looked at her she lowered her eyes and concentrated very hard on peeling her orange. Finally when she glanced at me, I smiled and teasingly stretched out my palm to her, just like all the other street kids that had done that to me asking for money. Without hesitation she split her orange, and placed one half onto my palm.
When I got to the Taj Mahal I couldn’t help wondering if this most stunning and elegant declaration of love in history would’ve been so lovely if it hadn’t been for that half an orange.
In my travels to places most would consider filthy, ugly and poor, the one thing that struck me more than anything else was always this – I didn’t return to my comfortable life thinking how lucky I was. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful for what I had, but what kept nagging at me, always at the back of my mind throughout the years, was, what is the secret of these people’s peace of mind and happiness despite having so little?
Now I know. They never drank the Kool-Aid.
When you don’t have a mountain heap of money, no mansion in Monte Carlo, when your clothes are 20 years old and have seen 2 cycles of fashion come backs, when on some days you might even struggle to pay the bills, and yet most days regardless of circumstances, you feel that you have more than enough, you have stopped drinking the Kool-Aid. You have found yourself. And you’re no longer a part of this global scam. And ironically, abundance will come your way. Why do think that is? Because you know how to handle it without losing yourself.