No matter how many times I do it (this must be my 30th return to India), the shock of transition remains shocking. From the lush green of the Boston Commons to the steel and glass and gleaming floors of Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport to a scene like this one on the road home to Dehradun never fails to stun me.

What worlds we inhabit.

I am compiling a little list of things I noticed on this trip, ways in which India and America differ, ways in which I have changed because of my immersion in this place – yet even as I do it, I am aware of all the many things I am probably totally unaware of because my surroundings here are now so real to me I scarcely notice them.

For example, it is only now that I am posting this picture that I see the utterly ironic word “PROGRESS” on the wall. When I took the photo, I was looking at the men and the little gas cylinder and thinking about how valiant these people are, living their lives right there on the street.

But here’s what I came home to: my still point of the turning world, my darling, my Moy Moy. She’s asleep now, but she has been smiling her sweet smiles of contentment and calm since I got here, reminding me again of why I exist and what life is all about: love and our children and work and community and the joy of having a purpose in this world.

Progress.