“The core of mans’ spirit comes from new experiences.”
Those damn rats! Their tiny pitter-patter is multiplied into a roaring thunder, at least to my sleep deprived brain, as they scurry to and fro on the tin metal roof above my head.They have kept me awake all night, though I silently acknowledge that they aren’t the only reason I can’t sleep. There is also a passed-out drunk Indian lady curled up half-on half-off the blanket we are using as a bed, and someone is rattling the scrap piece of metal that doubles as a door to the shack next to mine.
I am sleeping in an Indian slum, one of the last places in India you would expect to find a young Western girl who is traveling solo.
Life in the Slum
‘One of the greatest tragedies in mankind’s entire history may be that morality was hijacked by religion.’
Through Heaven and Hell recounts my scariest moment, when I was followed and stopped by multiple Indian men who had less than chivalrous intentions when they trapped me. Thankfully a lovely Sikh grandpa came to my rescue and was able to keep me safe for the night.
Through Heaven and Hell
“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.”
As I take three or four large gulps from the water jug on the rickety bench I feel that familiar sense of adrenaline, fear, and anger rise up inside of me. When I lower the pitcher I see them, watching me intently as they always do. Indian men.
Though their names may change, to me they are all the same. I feel naked. Their piercing greedy eyes undress me, leaving me vulnerable yet prepared to fight as I toy with the rock in my clenched fist. I have three more in my pocket and pepper spray tucked into my bra. I’m prepared, I have been through this before. In fact, I go through this everyday now. I’m cycling through hell.