[JPM Travel Journals]
INDIA and NEPAL 01
Intro to India
Holi Holy Vrindaban
The Sadhu in Taj's Shadow
Pushkar's Respite
A Sitar & a Vespa in Udaipur
The Clean-Bombing of Mumbai
Goa Beach Hippie Sighting Tours
Unequal Vision in Benares
Everest, Out the Window
Into Their Thin Air
Anna Purr Now
Within You Without You
Rishikesh Part 2
Amritsar: Bold, Gold
His Holiness of Dangerous Liasons
Delhi Visit #5
New Delhi Turns to New York
[ PHOTO ARCHIVE ]
04 June 01
Rishikesh, India.
For those that haven't yet heard, there's been some seriously grim action in Nepal. Apparently the crown prince got into an argument with his family and in an inebriated state returned, in military fatigues, and killed the King, Queen, his siblings and their children-- along with a few others-- before attempting to kill himself. Absurdly, he was crowned King in his hospital bed, and predictably the Nepal media was sparing on their absurd new king. The repercussions of this slaying will not be few-- Nepal's political situation has been extremely tense for some time. My greatest concern is that the Maoist/China-inspired insurgents will take hold of the instability and storm the capitol or otherwise start a revolution. Nepal could possibly become China's next Tibet, or as a minimum Nepal's tourism, trekking, and mountaineering influx could be seriously stunted... and the people regardless, are and will continue to be in a terrible mourning. Few of the places I stayed while in Nepal for a month, villages or towns, little family lodges or large guesthouses, -didnt- have framed portraits of the King and Queen gracing the place.
I am still in Rishikesh, staying in an ashram popular for its Yoga courses (Hatha Yoga), which I've only just started. The ashram is not much of an ashram, more of a fascist guesthouse, with an unreasonable curfew and a lazy staff. But its a large, beautifully minimal place with cheap, characteristic rooms. For sixty rupees, slightly more than $1 US, I've got a bedroom, small kitchen, shower cubicle, and asian toilet cubicle (read: a hole in the cement with a porcelein basin level with the floor, flanked by two elevated footprint places.) There's also some sort of a dressing room with an open skylight, or rain-window, depending on how you think of it.
Ved Niketan Yoga Ashram. (Rishikesh)
Last night for the sunset I climbed out again along the Ganges to sit with the pilgrims who meditate at the windy, chilly river's banks. I previously did the obligatory fence-climbing again and entered the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's ashram (Beatles fame 1968, et al.) which I mentioned before is closed and overgrown with weeds and monkeys and deafeningly screeching insects. This time I had my camera. As they say, Jai Guru Dev!
In a few days I plan to leave to head to Delhi (for the third dreaded time-- Delhi is quite an avoidable place) for one night and a day's worth of errands, parking some stuff, and then take a train north to Amritsar to see the Sikh's Golden Temple which is meant to be absolutely stunning. The Yoga teacher here at my ashram is a soft- spoken charming Sikh and the start of this course, meeting him, has further inspired me to ride into the Punjab heartland to see this splendor. From there I hope to move on to Pathankot and connect with a local bus going to Dharamsala, home to the exiled Dalai Lama.
I'm anxious to return to higher altitudes. The weather is still hot, sticky and obnoxious even here in the foothills of the Himalaya. I've been taking five or six cold showers a day, but the perspiration returns almost immediately. The food here is great; there is a 1958 established restaurant called 'Chotiwala' where they have two fat guys painted pink and decorated with makeup and indian garb, they ring the bells and pose for photos with the many flocks of Indian tourists.
I've met some great people here, too, like much of the trip. But more recently I've been spending a lot of time alone-- reading, practicing the sitar (while I still have it with me) and reflecting. I'm in an experimental mode of 'non-angry days'... I realized I was getting way too irritable and frustrated and lashing out here, there, and everywhere. So I am practicing restraint and trying to lengthen my fuse, increase my threshold, decrease my sensitivity. It's been working well. Today is the fourth day that I haven't raised my voice, haven't gotten into an argument with someone who's almost run me over, ripped me off, stared shamelessly at me, or otherwise caused a rise in me.
It's strange how India, which is known for being such a spiritual, introspective place.. can make one so much -more- aware of their physical surroundings and so much less in touch with their inner self, at first-- with the constant discomforts, chaos, filth, and dishonesty.
I think I've reached a crucial point though. Most people probably head home when they've experienced this much aggravation and disorder; instead I'm trying to understand why all these things make me angry and find out what I can do to be a less angry person.
Walk like the Buddha, you know.
Amritsar: Bold, Gold >>
©2001 JPM. All photography and writing copyrighted.