Contents on him: shoes full of sand

The sand filled his shoes as the dry wind tussled his hair; Jonah knew he was back home in New Delhi. The familiar architecture calmed him down as he realized it was just a dream, a temporary vacation, but Taj enjoyed it. The smells of the market and the dusty roads welcomed him back and the worries faded away. It was just a dream, but it wasn’t too far from the truth. Once again his parents, Baasim and Hamsa Tajmatan were nowhere to be found. Hindi words and phrases filled his head and out of his mouth, he tasted the spices and the bitterness that New Delhi left him with. Taj looked around the market but only saw the citizens from the Castle Apartments. The children and families he had grown up with were missing as well. The streets were filled with the spoiled and unhappy Americans he so desperately tried to escape. Not even in Jonah’s dreams could he live in the Indian culture.
A young boy and his mother stood still in front of him; they lived right next door. Jonah knew their fears, short comings, and life stories. The thin walls of the apartments often betrayed the young mother, Kindra Lee and her son Andy. They pointed at him and began to repeat Hindu phrases. Their voices became louder and louder as their outrage and disapproval became evident. Jonah felt these emotions run through his body; he wasn’t welcomed in New Delhi either. The mother and child came closer and closer. He tried to run but his feet wouldn't take him anywhere.

Jonah felt the pressure of hands on his body, a luke warm towel slowly washing over the contours of his face. "It was just a bad dream" declared a soft voice belonging to a woman.