Oh no.

No no no no no no no.

This was not what I wanted.

But I can't go back...where would I stay? What would I do? I have to keep going. Just like every night of this India adventure...my goodness. It's like I'm a shark now- stop moving and die. From the moment I walked out the door in the middle of Delhi this is what I've done...all the chaos, the traffic, the nonstop flow of people and animals and motorbikes and poop and heat, all of it has just kept pushing me to go further and further. I haven't even slept in a bed yet; this is night four spent on a train.

But not like this. The first three nights were relative comfort- A/C, my own bunk, at least a modicum of privacy and dignity. This train is nothing like that. I guess this is why they call it second class...and this is why the ticket was so dirt cheap.

Damn you, Josh.

It's midnight, though, and I have no other choice. I'm riding this train out into the middle of the desert. This is happening.

Ok. Just one more night. I can do this. Let everyone shove past me- goodness there is no order or respect here- and I'll just get a nice seat, put my headphones on and disappear. Surely the seats won't be that bad.

If...there's a seat. Wait. This car is totally full. Are people sitting on the luggage racks? Oh goodness. Don't tell me...

Yeah there are no seats. In fact there is only one other luggage rack free, and...no padding. It doesn't even have enough wooden planks to cover the space. How is this normal??

Right, India. Nothing is normal here.

But at least I have this space to myself, right? I can kind of lay across here, put my bag under my head and make do. I can manage this. <Jolt> Ugh here we go. 6 hours, that's all. Doable. These lights aren't going to turn off, are they...

THWACK!

What was that?

THWACK!

Is the door open? And slamming shut repeatedly? Of course. Nobody seems to care...maybe all the talking will distract me from the sense that someone is firing a gun at us.

THWACK!

Ok the noise isn't the only thing...this door is going to let in cold air all night. We're in the middle of the freaking desert in the middle of the freaking night, doesn't everybody realize it's going to be freezing? Oh god we can't even close the windows, can we...oh I feel that chill in my bones already. Smart decision, Josh, not bringing a single jacket or sweatshirt. It's India, right? I only have to worry about the heat! Idiot. Thank goodness I managed to buy two long sleeve shirts in Delhi...they're button-up, but they'll do. Maybe over a t-shirt or two. And I think I'll just slip on an extra pair of pants...perhaps over another pair of shorts as well.

So two pants, two shorts, four shirts and two socks...I think I'm basically wearing my entire wardrobe here. As I lay on an incomplete luggage rack on a second class train in the middle of the desert. This is what I signed up for, right? Thank goodness I saved all those rupees on this ticket.

THWACK!

Apparently I'm not going to be able to ignore that door. Ok podcasts, please take me away from here...

THWACK!

Nope. Going to see if the bathroom is any warmer...

Ok, warmer! But that may just be the smell of urine. Holy waterfalls batman, does anyone even aim for the hole here? Does no one in this country have the ability to smell urine anymore? Man. I'm beginning to think I've peed myself here. Back to the luggage rack. I'm just going to repeat this cycle over and over again all night long.

Alright I'm complaining a lot. Which won't make this trip go by any quicker. Deep breath. Remember why you're here. You're on a train in India, racing...ok chugging along into the desert. Almost as far west as this country extends before turning into Pakistan. And look outside! The clarity in the sky, the brilliance of the moon. Look how rich the colors are, like a bruised purple tinted with darkness around the corners. It almost too vivid to be real. The people in the car are mostly asleep now, all sitting up with their heads cocked to one side like marionettes with no strings. Some of them slightly adjust when we go over large bumps, and settle into a new awkward pose. This can't be comfortable, yet they all seem content. What is this life?

Hours must have passed by now. After the initial shock...this isn't so bad. I've dealt with discomfort before- and rarely in such a breathtaking setting. I'm still dead-tired and I don't know if I'll ever feel warmth again, but hey- this is what makes the moment worth it. And to think...we're going to get there early enough for me to see a desert sunrise. This is going to be a transcendent experience.

In fact...we're slowing down. Are we already here? No way. This is going to be a cinch! I just need to find my way through a foreign city in total darkness to the fort at the center of town, figure out how to get to the top and find the best spot for sunrise. Hey, I've already survived this far!

Ok. Ignore the tuk-tuks, get out your trusty old google-machine and get your bearings. The nice thing about all these towns in Rajasthan is that they all seem to be laid out similarly, always centered around a fort that used to protect them from marauding armies centuries ago. Only problem is, there are no straight lines here. Every road winds and twists and doubles back and plays tricks on you, without ever giving you a merciful opening in the stone and brick on either side. The moon is still shining pretty brightly, but I can tell the sun is on its way because the clarity of night has now become more murky with every passing second. I need to hurry.

But...is that music I hear? Where is that coming from? Who on earth is practicing music before 6am out here?

A group of schoolchildren, I guess? Wow. There's no way to tell if this is dedication or fear of authority...but no, it has to be dedication. I heard Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead-fame talk about recording with Indian musicians and his amazement at their propensity to play through every break and past every 'wrap'...it was simple, pure joy they felt in harmony with their instrument and with each other. There has to be some of that joy here, out in the middle of the desert. I could tarry here for a while.....

But no. The sun is growing louder, too. I can feel it. I've gotta find my way up to the top of this fort. Goodbye children, for now.

I can't tell via the blue dot on my phone which way I'm pointed; I think I'll try going left for a while and see if that- NOPE! ABORT!

Sorry Mr. Bull! And friend. Goodness. If I had been staring at my phone just then...

Ok. I think I've got this figure out now- I clearly see the fort, with moon still shining insistently behind. I can do this. Just find the entrance, and make my way up. Always up. There probably won't be a sign for sunrise point, but I'm sure the characteristics will be hard to miss. This is a big tourist spot, after all. I'll probably even run into a few up there.

On and ever upward, on and every upward...am I singing a church hymn right now? The things that enter my head...I can see the sun's light gradually filling the sky above. Blackness is being chased away by a pastel army that will not be stopped. I've gotta find a good point...after a couple pictures. These colors are ethereal.

Just keep climbing. Just keep climbing. I've evidently moved on to Finding Nemo now- thank you, Dory. I can see now that the stones I've been treading upon this past hour are beautiful, almost like pieces of a sanded honeycomb. I bet if I could taste them they would somehow be sweet, though that's probably not a good idea. I don't have the time.

Wait! A sign for sunrise! Salvation!

Ah maybe it's for a restaurant...but I can't be that far off. There must be a point nearby for cheap tourists like me who just want to stand and soak it all in...aha! No wait. That's somebody's backyard. Yard? Can I call it that? Back...square? How amazing must that be for them. Ok if I just go back real quick and a little further up the road...aha! Yes!

And I'm still in time! Holy crap. Did I just do this? I always come up with this half-crazed ideas and then try to suppress any expectation of them working out- because, well, they shouldn't. But when it all actually comes to pass...oh it doesn't matter how cold or uncomfortable or pee-stained the inside of my nose was (still is). That's all just a part of the beautiful journey, the toll we pay (enjoy) for moments that transcend. Look at this sight; I feel like I can see forever. The horizon isn't even a firm point. For some reason I remember Roger Ebert's review of the classic film 'Lawrence of Arabia' and how he described the experience of seeing desert vistas and sunrises on the big screen with 70mm projection...I wish I had the same words right now.

And I was right- there are other tourists here. A cute couple of kids from China- they look like kids to me but they are probably in their 20s. Oh to be in love and to share in an adventure like this. I can't get enough of their modest affection for each other. They must think I look crazy-some bearded white man wearing clothes that don't match and smelling to high heaven (I'm convinced the urine smell will never leave). But here we are, the three of us sharing this miraculous moment together- this miraculous moment that happens every single day.

To witness the sunrise in most parts of the world is to witness a beautiful etude or song; there's a soft beginning, a build and then a stirring chorus that ties the whole piece up in a neat package, in the only way that seems logical to its process. The experience seems full and brief at the same time.

To witness a sunrise in the desert is to witness an entire symphony in action; its melodies take their sweet time to develop, passing through myriad modes and permutations and harmonies from just a whisper of a single instrument into a blinding exultation from every voice on stage. Each particle goes from a singular individual glow, effervescent in its touch, to something different and complex as it combines with others and melts into a sum greater than its parts. Layer by layer the sky rings with not one song but a thousand, somehow woven into one tapestry that grows more rich by the minute. Finally the top of the sun emerges, like a chorus blasted straight into the audience past all that impressionistic prelude. The quality of the light in that disc is gold beyond gold, light beyond light, as if there was the word for 'light' and then whatever essence this is that could never be contained by mere words. It doesn't shine so much as reveal itself, its purest self.

As this sight struck my poor human eyes, I stood there and simply wept. It was the only appropriate response.