Pic: Vivek BThe womb is a machine where we are made from scratch. It's a manufacturing unit. A factory of limbs. And organs. And mind. And heart. A place of hectic activity where electrical sparks fly,
like the welder's torch, day and night as new synapses crackle to life. The womb is also a zorb. Our first experience of gravity. And hanging upside down. Suspended. Warm. Comfortable. Enjoying the thrill of being alive. Or getting there. The womb is also the place where we first experience the fear of falling. The fear of death. The fear of the machine shutting down.
That's me and my friend Jassi experience rebirth in Khajjiar, a meadow believed to have been formed by a meteor hit.