Travel Diary: The Great, Grand Motherland

I wanted to visit India ever since I was a child — but with no family ties to the subcontinent, it wasn’t as easy for me as it was for my other Indian friends.

Although we are originally Indian, from a place called Kutch, my family goes back a few generations in East Africa. On top of that, they were forced to emigrate in my parents’ generation — so the majority of my relatives can be found in North America and Europe. My mom’s family also went on to live in several different countries, learning a new language in each one, before finally immigrating to Canada.

India, to me, was this strange and dreamlike idea. How could it be my motherland if we were so many generations and nations removed from it? Yet it beckoned my imagination, and I found myself unconditionally loving this place which I’d never seen firsthand, like a distant relative I only knew through stories.

Everyone told me that I wouldn’t like India as much as I dreamed I would. It would be dirty, smelly, congested, polluted, unsafe for women, and unsafe for tourists; I couldn’t drink the water (that one was true), I could get kidnapped, I would probably get scammed, and it really isn’t like Bollywood movies, Zen. People don’t sing in the streets. In all honesty, though, I wasn’t looking for Bollywood. I don’t know what I was looking for.

Whatever it was, I found it.

Wind Palace, Hawa Mahal, Jaipur

Wind Palace, Hawa Mahal, Jaipur

City Palace, Jaipur

The more I listened and spoke, the more the languages seemed to flow out of me — like an underused part of my brain was finally lighting up with activity.

I grew up speaking Kutchi — a lesser-known dialect from the state of Gujarat, but linguistically rooted in Sindhi — with my grandmother. I use it a lot less now that she has passed away, but while in India, the pattern of it seemed to click right into place. It wasn’t a huge stretch to listen to the words around me and fit them into a familiar framework, with laughs and corrections along the way.

Predictability makes me restless. When I hear something I’ve heard before, my mind tends to grow impatient and bored (Not the best tendency to have while in school, I know.) But while constantly processing another language, I never had a chance to be bored. Every exchange was coloured with intrigue, as my brain worked extra hard to parse sentences and draw from associations. Every other minute, I was marvelling at one word or another. Language is such an amazing thing!

One of my handful of regrets is that I didn’t get to stay immersed in Hindi longer. I felt so sad about this on my last day — I knew that as soon as I returned home, my brain would snap back into its primary mode of thinking in English, and this growing sense of comfort would taper away.

A view of Chandni Chawk from the steps of Juma Masjid



Chai, Aloo Paratha, and One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

India itself didn’t feel as unnatural as I thought it would. I didn’t feel the culture shock that everyone warned me about. The sunshine made my heart happy. The climate made my skin happy. The languages that surrounded me fell into a rhythm as natural as the honks of traffic all around me.

The foot-traffic was like the street traffic — people wove in between each other noisily, constantly at odds, but in a way that everybody intrinsically understood. The lines drawn on the roads held little to no authority, remaining staunchly in their place. Everything was in motion, all the time.

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Hauz Khas, New Delhi

Hashtag Pani! Hauz Khas Social, New Delhi

New Delhi

New Delhi, in particular, felt strangely home-like to me. Like the part of Toronto where I grew up, people talked a lot about its reputation with a particular emphasis on crime. But much like the place I grew up in, I saw it with a soft heart: it was full of trees and parks, some drawing families, others filled with young couples holding hands. (I didn’t venture too far into the latter, but I’m sure if I had, I would have seen more.)

The trains had an eerie familiarity, like something I had seen in a dream. The modernity of the tall glass buildings combined with urban greenery and tall palms felt unexpectedly Californian, while the older markets in the heart of the city were full of the hustle-and-bustle that was so distinctly Indian to me — so full of ambition, yet so carefree. My heart fell for this city so quickly that it started to feel like my own.

And then there was Mumbai. My trip began and ended here, so it was my first and last taste of India. My days were so filled with shopping, eating, and exploring that they are all just a happy blur of motion in my memory. I was totally charmed by all the markets, the variety of food, and the prime opportunities for people-watching. (Check out all these teenagers at an arts festival. There were easily over a thousand people there that day – the crowds in Mumbai are incredible!)

On my way in, I lost my glasses on one of my flights — which made me extremely sad because even though I hate wearing glasses, these ones had a lot of sentimental value. Luckily, prescription glasses in India are surprisingly affordable! Even with my astigmatism, I was able to quickly acquire a new pair and create a new memory.

[Look out for an upcoming post with some recommendations of things to do in Mumbai. You don’t need to spend a lot of time or money to make the most of this city!]

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My favourite part of being a tourist is blatantly disobeying signs. “No entry”? I’m there. “Do not climb on the instruments”? Too late. “Do not enter”? Do not even bother. At one point, while passing a closed-off highway ramp, our driver looked at me and sarcastically commented, “Do you want to take that route?”

The most disobedient touring was done in Jaipur, which aside from being the famed Pink City, is full of palaces and monuments. Naturally, this means the most pictures were taken. I’m not a huge fan of guided tours, so I enjoyed looking through the popular destinations at my own pace and then reading about them later. This left me free to stare at every intricate doorway for as long my heart desired.

As a foreigner, transportation is particularly exciting in India. While the sensible option is an air-conditioned vehicle, I relished opportunities to ride in a rickshaw and see my surroundings up close.

In more tourist-filled areas, animals serve as novelty transportation. I drew the line, however, at riding a camel. Call me crazy, but I just don’t trust camels.

ITC Mughal Hotel

One of the most serene experiences I had was in Agra. The ITC Mughal where we stayed was the winner of an Aga Khan Award for Architecture, undoubtedly due to its vast courtyard gardens and beautiful design elements. The hotel’s coolest feature was a sunrise observatory, which faced the Taj Mahal.

At 7AM, the sun rose and the pinkish morning light reflected off the marble of the palace, turning it a gentle rosy shade. Between the hotel and the Taj, gardens stretched out toward the skyline, and the song of the birds living there seemed as loud as the music coming from the city’s mosques, calling everyone to prayer. All the sounds blended together as the sun slowly rose, and the skyline of the city lit up little by little.

It was so memorable to see the view from that observatory, but it was just as memorable to see the Taj Mahal up close. Every bit of symmetrical detail, perfectly-crafted marble, and painstaking calligraphy spoke volumes. The alleyways behind the palace, meanwhile, were filled with small businesses and people just going about their day, which was visually fascinating to an outsider like me.

While in India, I visited temples, mosques, and even attended a service with our driver at his Gurudwara. I got to speak Hindi, Gujarati, Kutchi, and of course, English — which many people were just as excited to practice speaking with me as I was excited to practice their languages with them. Random people asked me for selfies — from a teenage girl who wanted to post me on Instagram as her foreign friend, to university boys looking to invent a fictionalized girlfriend on Facebook. I drank chai every morning. I bought saris at every price range. I ate every kind of curry imaginable.

I loved my first visit to the motherland. Even as an NRI — a non-resident Indian — I felt a sense of warmth that amounted to more than the sunny February weather. I feel so lucky that I got to experience India for the first time with so much happiness and love, in no small part because of the people I encountered there.

There was a part of it, too, where I felt like India invited me to just be myself. I got to leave behind a certain kind of self-consciousness, and celebrate a different side of myself. Whether discovering the nerve to cross against traffic, finding the bravery to communicate in a language that isn’t effortless, or growing the spine needed to drive a hard bargain, I embraced new characteristics in myself that I would have thought to be antithetical to my personality. In India, they just felt natural.

Although I’ve had ample time to come home and adjust back to Canadian reality — including a skiing trip to Quebec the day after I returned home, and my first live Raptors game to remind me why I love my city — a part of my heart is still lingering in India. I’m grateful for the time I spent there, and eager to return one day!

Thank you for scrolling through my first travel diary! Let me know what you think, and if you’d like to see more of these. Watch out for a few more India posts, and a round-up of some of the “firsts” I’ve experienced this year!

Join the discussion!


What camera/settings are you using? These pics are great!


While I was reading I felt it as if I was there with you in India
Excellent write up and excellent Pictures..

Zahra Ismail

Beautifully written! Reading through your blog inspires me to experience it all first-hand! Maybe you can cultivate your love of languages by learning more 🙂


I really enjoyed reading this particular blog entry, Zen. I look forward to seeing more.
I haven’t been to India (specifically Kerala) for some time now, but I’ve been aching to go back.
Out of curiosity, do you plan to visit any southern parts of India?

Lorraine Majcen

Wow!! Zen you captured the essence and spirit of India in your blog. What a beautifully expressed experience visually and literally. Thank you, I enjoyed reading about your experience. I look forward to reading many more. Well done!!

Alisha Abdulla

I can’t express to you in words how well written this is ! ❤ i couldn’t stop reading! Looking forward to more Zen! 🙂


[…] the South Asian diaspora. In addition to the collections already gathered on my shelves, my recent trip to India supplied me with a stockpile of literature that I struggled to transport home — physical […]


Well done! I enjoyed all your photos.

Saleema & Rubina Aunty
Saleema & Rubina Aunty

Loved going through your travel diary Zenish! Your pictures are outstanding and the story was awesome. You’ve inspired me to go!
My mom enjoyed it too 🙂