From Dorchester to Chennai (Madras).

The lovely woman on the left is Nitya.
I met Nitya at Emerson. When and how we met, are really good questions. It took me a while to sort it out.
We went to what Emersonians affectionately call, "The Castle", Emerson's abroad program in the fall of 2001. So we lived in the Netherlands together for about 8 months our sophomore year of college. We didn't get to know each other during our stay at the castle and during trips to Paris or Amsterdam or Interlocken.

We did, however, when we returned to the states. Our junior year found my group of friends in a weekly circle, sharing prose, poetry, criticism, politics, saliva, wine, whiskey, and wisdom. We called our weekly writer's circle the jinbang. I'm not sure the spelling and have since completely forgotten the meaning of this word. But it was during the jinbang's many get-togethers in Dorchester, MA and in that strange, smoke-filled condominium that I fell in love with Nitya. She spoke a bajillion languages, handled our ignorance of where she came from with patience and grace, was studying and writing beautiful work, and taught me a lot about unfaltering vivacity. She is one of those women that strike me as so passionate, so full of warmth and sensual energy, it's as if she was made to be a princess. She speaks lavish language with a velvety tongue and for all her modesty, can flash a grin that would convince a nun to rob a bank.

She moved back in with her family in Qatar after graduation. Since then she has seen more of the world than I will probably ever see. She sent me postcards from the Himalayas, all over Europe, India, etc. Usually the cards contained a quote, or a warm phrase that encouraged me that though we had lost touch, she and I were still traveling together.

Though I have been a terrible friend, completely out of touch and her inbox bore no message from me for years...she invited me to her wedding in March.
Originally, she and another great woman from the jingbang named Andy were going to meet me in Tokyo this spring. But Nitya got engaged in December (maybe January?), so we will meet her in Madras, India to watch her get married.

It will take a lot of saving and scrimping to be able to go. But I would not want to miss a party in which Nitya is the center of the celebration. Especially if I get to do it in Madras, with a scattering of old peeps to help me honor our friend.
That's what's new here.