It's hard to believe that ten years have passed since our first tour in January 2015.

Our tours have maintained their integrity, dynamism, charm, and passion. We incorporate the same "neshamah," the same soul and spirit that imbued our very first trip, and every tour since. That neshamah is integral to the way we explore India and Jewish India together.

One thing has changed: India’s Jewish communities are getting smaller. That's why we encourage you to join us now to maximize your experience. Don’t miss this chance to explore the richness of Indian Jewish life alongside India’s vibrant hospitality and magnificent sites.

In a world full of chaos, India remains a safe and welcoming destination.

Join our upcoming November tour. Learn more here. Register now!

Freedom—or the lack of it—is on my mind this Pesah.

The tragic state of the world today, ravaged by war and injustice, divisiveness and pain, leaves me with a grieving heart. When 59 hostages remain in captivity in Gaza, when freedom itself in many parts of the world seems to be caged, fettered and ensnared, how can I celebrate it? I feel like the "simple" child, the pure child, who cries out sharply, Mah Zot? "What Is This?" or the child who has no words at all.

The story begins, Avadim hayinu: We were slaves in Egypt. B'chol Dor vador, in every generation we have to see ourselves, we have to show ourselves, as if we ourselves had left Egypt. There are instructions: Kol dichfin yetei v'yachol. Everyone who is hungry, come and eat. There is faith in the face of sober reality. V'hi she'amda, Many enemies have tried to destroy us, but God, Who stood up for our ancestors, saves us.

Embedded in the traditional text, I find space for both sorrow and solace, for hope and balance.

Mitzrayim, the confining captivity of Egypt, is not underplayed. The Haggadah traces the origins of Israelite enslavement. The Children of Israel cry out in agony and terror. After generations of suffering, God redeems Israel "b'yad hazakah u-vizroa netuyah," with a strong hand and an outstretched arm.

Why did God need both a strong hand and an outstretched arm? Wasn't the mighty hand of a victorious fighter enough? No. God reached out to us simultaneously, like a parent or grandparent embracing a inconsolable child, like a lifeguard rescuing a drowning swimmer. God needed to be both powerful and gentle. So, too, in our world today, our power lies in merging courage and compassion.

There are still many reasons for gratitude. Following COVID, it's no small thing to be able to sit at the seder table surrounded by my family of four generations. In no particular order, I'm also grateful for the legacy I cherish; for travel, for music; for friends, for food, for health; for the freedom to pray, to dance, to write; for the ability to give tzedakah. The world is still torn and broken. But for today, dayenu.

Tizkoo l'shanim rabot! May we merit many years in which there are still things to be grateful for.

This interpretation of "b'yad hazakah u-vizroa netuyah, the illustration of the kiddush cup above and the four illustrations below are included in my contemporary retelling of the Haggadah: Why on This Night? A Passover Haggadah for Family Celebration (reissued by Kalaniot Books).  The Haggadah is available on all major platforms, including Amazon; Barnes and Noble; Walmart, and Bookshop.org. Order today!