Well then, this isn’t what I wanted at all.
I have been longing to dance in the jungle to music that I understand, with my tribe. I need this. I miss this. I can forget Dhaka and my life for a few wonderful nights and just dance and smile and be my normal self.
That’s my very best self. Not this Dhaka version of me.
Nothing is more liberating than stomping with bare feet, under the stars, surrounded by like-minded people who just get it.
It is stress relief, expression of joy, belonging, and release all wrapped up together in one experience.
But no. Not this time.
I have taken two weeks of my precious annual leave to attend a doof in Nepal. I have been dreaming about this for months. On hard days in Dhaka, I would count the weeks until this music festival, where everything would be ok, and I would be happy. This was a beacon.
With less than 48 hours to go, the festival has been cancelled. I’m surprised how upset I am about it all. I’m even contemplating coming home early. This is my fourth trip to Nepal, and just hanging around in Thamel doesn’t really appeal.
Plans are underway for a renegade party in a village – but my heart isn’t really in it.
Update. I’m going home tomorrow. I’ll save five days of annual leave. I don’t need to hang around.