Beautiful Moments

I have two stories for you.

The first a number of you have already heard and had apparently known about before I did. See, I have this beautiful friend named Lizzy. She went to Kolkata the year before I did and was a very important presence before, during and after my first trip. We had talked often of how wonderful it would be to be in Kolkata together and share that experience. I figured that such a thing would happen at some point, but I didn't think that it would be happening very soon. Apparently I was wrong.
One afternoon, as I was leaving the Modern Lodge, I noticed a girl walking towards Mother House. I thought she looked an awful lot like Lizzy and was about to shout her name but I had only seen her from behind and thought it couldn't possibly be her. She would have told me if she was in Kolkata, right? Plus, there had been another girl in Kolkata about a week back who looked a lot like Lizzy, only with curly hair, so I figured it might just be another lookalike. I turned the other way because I was headed out to do something else in the Sudder St./New Market area.
Later that evening, I was celebrating the birthday of a friend from Chicago with her and our two Swedish friends. We were walking back to the Hotel Maria to hang out with our fancy coffee and pastries (Barista and Flury's) on the roof. Kartick and Abdul of Tirupati's stopped me as we were about to go inside. They were incredibly excited. They told me in their sign language that Lizzy was in Kolkata. At first I didn't believe them. They had been so excited about the previous lookalike that I figured they were overreacting. But they were very insistent and told me to come back at 9 for tea at Khalsa's and Lizzy would be there.
I did go back, and Lizzy was not there. Abdul and I hung out, sitting on a rickshaw and making fun of each other, and waited while Kartick was off doing his Kartick-y things. She didn't come for another 15 minutes, so Kartick went to see if she was at Khalsa's. When he came back, he was very excited and told us to come.
I looked back in the corner that Kartick and Abdul would usually drag me to when we came for tea, and guess who was sitting there, talking with another friend, Beppe? Yep, Lizzy. I walked up behind her table. Abdul walked up in front of her and pointed at me. She turned around and immediately we both started laughing. She stood up and hugged me and we laughed as we stood there surrounded by Indian men who just thought we were crazy. It was beautiful.

And now for the second story. I wish I were a better writer. I feel like someone who has more of a way with words could do this so much more justice. But I'm going to tell you anyways because it was one of the most incredible moments of my life.
It was my last full day in Kolkata. Lizzy, our friend Matt and I had gone out for an almost silent lunch of Raj Kachori, Kulfi and subpar Mango Lassi. Afterwards, we naturally headed back for Sudder St. and Tirupati's because it was my last day and where else could I possibly want to be?
After sitting and talking for a while, it starts raining hard, although it looks like it is only raining on Sudder St. It seemed as if the skies over New Market and beyond were completely clear and it was just Sudder St. that was affected by this sudden downpour. We sat back and got comfortable because we would probably be there for a little while.
As we're sitting there watching the rain, this little old Muslim Indian man walks in front of Tirupati's in the rain. Lizzy pointed him out to me and he noticed that we were both watching him. He stands in front of us, with two rickshaws parked in front of Tirupati's acting as a sort of picture frame, and smiles the biggest, most wonderful smile at us. He then makes a 90 degree turn, so we see him from the side, and looks up to the sky, embracing the rain. He takes off his cap and lets it fall on his nearly bald head. He stands there for a few moments, just enjoying life. Then, just before he's ready to walk away, he turns back around to look at us and smile that most wonderful smile at us once again.
At this point, Lizzy is crying, obviously, as she is Lizzy. I am smiling wildly and nearly on the verge of tears. We don't even need words to express to each other how incredibly blest we feel to have been a part of that moment in time. It was beatiful.

My life is beautiful.