It’s been 140 days since I left Italy to reach India — a place that once seemed so far away, yet now is only a few hours from me. Early this morning, I left Islamabad and retraced my steps back to Lahore. Now I’m once again at the India–Pakistan border, but this time not to watch the ceremony — this time, to cross it. Everything went smoothly, and in just four hours I was through all the formalities. I was finally in India. The first stop was Amritsar, a city famous for the Golden Temple, a sacred place for Sikhs. Sikh devotees wear large turbans that wrap around and cover their hair, which they never cut throughout their lives, just like their beards — a sign of respect toward divine creation. The Golden Temple was truly beautiful. It was an intense and spiritual experience. I entered barefoot — unlike mosques where socks are allowed, here you must go in completely barefoot. I was given an orange bandana to cover my hair. Inside, I was embraced by the scent of incense and dazzled by the golden reflection of the temple shimmering in the sacred lake. Everyone is welcomed, regardless of religion. In the evening, they offer free food, and you can even sleep there without any problem. I only had 20 days left on my Indian visa, and since covering 200 km can take a full day due to traffic, I couldn’t stay too long if I wanted to see as much as possible. I left Amritsar and headed to Delhi, one of the most populated cities in the world. Driving through the traffic wasn’t easy — I used the horn so much it stopped working. The city is chaotic, noisy, and ruled by disorder. In India, you can find just about anything on the streets: monkeys, stray dogs, goats, camels, wild boars, pigs, elephants, and cows. Everything coexists in the chaos. The cows are everywhere, but they’re very different from the ones at home. Here, they’re often malnourished, you can see their bones, and they eat garbage. They have a sad look, so different from the peaceful cows living in the green pastures of the Italian Alps. And I couldn’t help but wonder how an animal so sacred could live like that. I never found an answer. After Delhi, I made my way to Agra to visit one of the Seven Wonders of the World — the Taj Mahal. A monumental structure built in honor of the emperor Shah Jahan’s late wife. Seeing it in person is something else entirely compared to the photos. I continued on to Ranthambore National Park to see the tigers, but that was a flop — not even one.

Still, the park itself was beautiful. Then I headed to the temples of Khajuraho, also known as the Kamasutra temples. It’s the only place in the world where I’ve truly understood art… when the statues do exactly what you think they’re doing, well, no need for explanations! In Khajuraho, I met a group of Italians who had shipped their cars all the way from Italy to India. One of them, Fabio, had rented a beautiful Royal Enfield Himalayan. Together, we rode to Varanasi, one of the most spiritual cities in the country, famous for the cremation ceremonies. On the banks of the Ganges, just steps from the temples, there are ghats where cremations take place. I saw the bodies burn. No walls, no screens, no fear. Here, death is not hidden — it’s part of the landscape, part of spirituality, part of normal life. Family members light the pyres, priests chant prayers, and the wood slowly burns while the river flows beside it, indifferent and eternal. It was an intense experience — probably not for everyone. It felt like attending many funerals at once. I spent four days in Varanasi, and perhaps it deserved more, but time was running out — I had just five days left before leaving the country. Before crossing into Nepal, I made one last stop in Patna, where an Indian friend of mine lives. She showed me around the city and invited me to her home for a traditional meal. I was a little worried about the spice level, but luckily, everything was well-balanced for a European stomach. From here, it’s only about 350 km to the border with Nepal, my final destination. In India, you truly get to see the limits of human ingenuity. For example, to keep ice on hand, they tie a rope to a giant block and drag it across the scorching asphalt all the way to their destination… and with whatever is left, they serve “cold” drinks — or at least ones with a very authentic taste. I saw people carrying anything and everything on their motorcycles. Once, I witnessed something surreal: two men and five sheep on a single motorbike. Perfectly balanced, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. They say India is a place you either love or hate. Honestly, I’m still not sure which side I’m on. But one thing I do know: one day, I’ll be back. Because this country is immense, unpredictable, chaotic, spiritual… and there’s still so much left for me to discover.