There was a poetry reading last night in lower Dharamsala. The room was small but well lit, and a light breeze and mosquitos blew in from the open, unscreened windows. Poets, singers and musicians gathered together and shared their art, improvising with one another and laughing.
It reminded me that we always end up exactly where we’re meant to be. There is always a place for people like us to come together, however small and damp. We have a corner, and it exists in all corners of the world. People like us: the quiet ones, the poets, the eccentrics. The ones who always see beauty in the world. We can always find each other. We know right where to look.