Hello all.
20 some odd hours ago I hopped a train in Varanasi and headed back here to Delhi, where I now sit in air-conditioned comfort at a guesthouse in Defence Colony. Some reflections on the past week.
Benares is, and surely always has been, an intense place. That being said, I'm going to miss it quite a bit, I think, until I can get back to that part of the country. What a strange and unique place. The bustle is so present, the history of the place is suffocating, all is crumbling down to the ground, and the city seems to teeter on the edge of consuming itself at any second, like the serpent eating it's own tail. It's halfway there already, but again, like much of India that I've seen, it exists in this strange sort of half chaos that is at once maddening and relaxing: This is life, human life and society, at it's most pressing expression, and it reminds me that the reverse culture shock is indeed coming, when I return home in a month only to find that the usually unnoticed sterility and compartmentalization that organizes so much of our "developed" culture is in fact quite cut off from the livewire of human existence, in some suspended animation saught between television advert and museum exhibit. But that's the point I suppose; somewhere down the line back into the murky depths of histories past, our part of the world lost and/or destroyed these moorings, this dangerously beautiful mode of existence that lies closer to the lay of life and of death. In it's place we have erected support edifices that were hitherto unknown to the world and to mankind, which certainly has it's benefits: healthcare, sanitary improvements, technology, life expectancy, quality of living. But something gets lost in the translation, and you find it in developing countries, motifs and atmospheres that root backwards to lived traditions that exceed anything we could dream up, box, and ship out for sale on the boats of commerce. That being said, this time around I feel not only exhilarated to be here in this place, and taking in these special things, but also quite appreciative of the opportunities I have and the life I've landed into. But I've waxed long enough on these things, I guess.
The last full day in Benares was very nice. I had met quite a few folks from points afar; UK, France, Austria, Switzerland, USA. Some of us went to practice yoga in a little sweatbox brickroom above the clattering street. At 4 PM on a sweltering Benares afternoon, the work-out is sweat inducing to say the least, but the studio was spartan and easy to be in, and the class was challenging enough to have my muscles still telling me about it today. After, we wandered down to the Ganga and attended the riverfront aarti ceremony. I found a priest and recited my mantras, lit candles and put my little flower boat into the river, Ganga water on my forehead and the priest blessing my family to be. Dasawamedha Ghat is a particularly auspicious place to do puja for long life for husbands, wives, and children, and so I did the same, and it felt good to be there as the sun went down and the wind kicked up, the temperature dropped and the rain started to come down.
We skated off back into the old city, getting soaked, and holed up in a bakery that purportedly had food from nearly every continent. So we decided to have dinner there, which promptly took an hour to be served. Now, I for one am skeptical of non-Indian food in India; some of the worst meals of my life have been Indian attempts at world cuisine. So I stuck to sabzi and rice and was happy to have done it. The British guy with us did the same, knowing the score as well. One of the French girls ordered a cheese/veggie/baguette plate, a sure-fire disappointment in the twisted and dirty lanes of Kashi, or anywhere else outside of France for that matter. It came, and all agreed that the cheese was quite rotten or rancid or whatever, and so she refused to pay and loudly proclaimed so in English. The poor cooks in the back didn't seem like they were having any of it, though, and I for one wanted no part of any attempt to leave without paying for something in this country; the policemen carry rather large sticks and like to use them whenever possibly, especially on spoiled uppity foreigners who walk around like they own the place. Not saying this was the case here, the plate was expensive and the food on it was really quite bad, but let that be a lesson to anyone who has questions: don't order anything too far out of left field in this country, and you'll do just fine.
Anyhow, so I was first in line to split, knowing what was coming, and of course the waiters came running into the street after us yelling about being shorted 150 rupees, but I was well ahead by that point, trying to get past the police posts before they decided to start "questioning" the foreigners (i.e. hitting us with sticks). Luckily, though, the maze-like streets of the old city are easy enough to escape into, especially at night with the frequent power outages that plunge everything into pitch black darkness.
So That about wraps up the trip to Kashi, the Luminous City, and now sitting back in Delhi, I'm about to eat some lunch and then take back to the streets, go check into the hotel, and arrange a car to pick up April from the airport tonight. I'm so excited to see her, it's all over my face. As you all know, I am crazy about her, and I look forward to her return tonight. More soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment