To ring in the New Year, the year of two thousand and fourteen, I had a lovely bout of train sickness. ‘What kind of sickness?’ 450 curious co-passengers wanted to know. ‘None of your business’ kind of sickness. ‘I-want-to-die’ kind of sickness. ‘I-almost-got-off-the-train-in-Patna,’ kind of sickness. I slept for two days and survived on biscuits and oranges. Rumors of the sick white girl got around the train and now even strangers stop to ask me if I’m ok. Alas, I missed beautiful Bihar and have no idea what happened in those 48 hours. I am, however, happy to report that I’m alive and well and still on the train.