The decision of how to spend the winter was avoided until I finally asked Gerard if he was happy to just stay home.

“I can think of worst places to be but no, I think we should go to India one more time.”

Then the reality set in that our life might not fit into that small case any more with all the pills and supplements that old age now requires. Even my chiropractor questioned our decision. “My parents who are your age wouldn’t consider traveling at all, what to speak of India! You’re sure it’s a good idea?”

He didn’t put me off. I knew there’s one more trip in us.

There was going to be a 10 day meditation retreat near Bangalore starting in January that I was more keen to attend than Gerard, but with gentle persuasion, he came around to the idea. Just after Christmas we would fly to Delhi, rest for a day then visit our Indian family for another day before flying to Bangalore.

Typical for international flights to Delhi we arrived at 2.30 am. After 50+ years of traveling, we have yet to lose a bag. And good luck was with us once again. We waited for first light (there was none due to smog), to book a taxi to our hotel in Pahargunj, hoping the hotel staff would be awake by then. Not only were they awake, but they greeted us with friendly smiles. ”Nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs Wiggins.”

The masala chai wallah was in his usual spot. He touched his heart, and said, “One sugar, one no sugar.” Just then, the sound of a chanting voice echoed down the street. A blind woman, her hand resting on the head of a young boy as her guide emerged around the corner. If she had been born into a different place and time, she would have dominated a world stage with her angelic voice. But here on the grimy streets of Delhi, she would have to settle for meager handouts. What a strange world this can be!

The Mahajans had moved during the summer and were anxious for us to see their new house. As we sat around the dining table drinking strong chai, the eight months since we last saw them seemed like yesterday. Kamal reminded us that by chance we first met nearly twenty years ago at our house in Boston.

She had come to visit her daughter, Shruti, who had started a new job. Just as Kamal arrived, Shruti was asked to vacate her apartment. Through a friend, we had met her only once. But when she told us her predicament, Gerard insisted she and her mother should stay with us. Kamal was reluctant to impose on strangers but there was no alternative. The first night she barely spoke. The following morning, Shruti and I went off to work, Gerard was free for a few days. When I got home that evening, he and Kamal were sitting at the dining room table carrying on gas if they had known each other for years! She said to me, “Since you’re working and I am not, now I will do the cooking. I hope you like Indian food.” That was like asking if the sun rose in the east!

For the next five weeks, we learned what Indian home cooking is all about, very different from the usual restaurant fare. Ever since then, the Mahajans have welcomed us in like family.