Breaking Naan bread and indulging in Butter Chicken, I realised it had already been six months.
Six months ago, I was walking the streets of Dhaka city. As I lived, breathed and wore the vibrant culture, I was convinced that six months later I would not be the same.
How could I readjust into the comfort, complacency and routine of a selfish life. I had seen and touched poverty and I would not allow myself to sink back into reality. The reality of $6 coffees, $40 jeans and $2 bottled water, would not consume my life any longer.
Yet six months later I was eating at an upperclass Indian restaurant, wearing my designer watch and throwing away money, buying another but-its-a-different-colour item.
As I reminisced and recounted the memory and growth since my trip, it saddened me that in six long yet short months, Dhaka is becoming a mere memory.
I need to keep the lessons, convictions and life changing experiences thriving in my life.
“Pass me some more Butter Chicken”, I ask, because in the mean time the Saffron and Turmeric give me a little taste of Bangladesh.