All of this was written in India, within the first little while that I was there. A large chunk of is was done at
the ashram, and the rest was done in Delhi. As usual, I was writing about the stuff much later than I
actually experienced it. For some reason, I think it would be better if I rewrote the whole thing, almost as a
retrospective. The following can be viewed as a modest first attempt, completely unedited. It was keyed
into the computer many months after my return. I had attempted to do it sooner but found the computer to
be too "cold."
passport, ticket, addresses, health insurance
medicine -(tylenol, desenex, pennaten, tetracyclin, eurythromycin, malaria pill)
backpack, sport bag
2 jeans, 2 shorts, 4 t-shirts, sweats (shirt), jacket, 4 socks, 4 underwear,
camera, film, pens, TCs, cash, calculator, chain, lock, maps, guides, walkman, tapes, glasses, straws,
detergent, canvas shoes, hat, hipsack, moneypouch, swiss army knife, I.D., wallet, toothpaste, toothbrush,
razor, deodorant, cream,
BOOKS: ZATAOMM, Krishnamurti.
watch, towel, sleeping bag, lighter
Places to see
Agra: Taj Mahal (morning, night, full moon)
Dayalbagh (Radhaswami temple)
Red Fort
Mt. Abu: Delvara Na Dera (sunset)
Kanniyakumai: Sunrise, Sunset (full moon in April moon and sun on same horizon), Swami Vivekananda
Rock Memorial,
Delhi: Connaught Place, Kutubminar, Red Fort, ChandiChow, Sadar Bazaar, South Ex.
Kurukshetra (site of Mahabharata (Gita))
Ashram in Virat Nagar
Chandighar
Rameshwaram
Kerela
Banglore
Mysore
Goa
Y1
The whole journey did not have a beginning and will not have an end, so I can only jump in
somewhere. I suppose I should start at the moment I thought would be difficult, but proved to be less
uncomfortable than I had anticipated. Leaving home was tough, but I was quite eager to get going.
I performed the rituals only with the intention of leaving my family at ease. The whole ordeal of
getting me and my luggage into the car to the point of my boarding the airplane can be summed up by
saying...nothing. The plane travelling was as most long distance flights are; tiresome. The most special
moment occurred when I realized I was in India. We had just cleared the Himalayan mountains and were
cruising at about 32,000 feet above Lahore. I looked out the window and saw the Sunday night darkness
of midnight. It was very difficult to see what was out there. I noticed a few concentrations of light, and
presumed them to be villages. At 32,000 feet I figured it would be hard to see small fires, but I suppose it
was dark enough to do so. As the plane was descending in its final leg into New Delhi, I could see some
lights equidistant from each other, along what appeared to be a river. I found myself doing an altitude
countdown as we neared Delhi. I knew it was quite humid, because we were down to 6,500 feet and the
outside temperature was 7oC, and we were still in the clouds. I figured the dew-point to be 6,000 and was
off by 200. We broke the clouds at 5,800, and I saw many more concentrations of light, and I could even
decipher some roads and buildings. The plane, on takeoff from Amsterdam to New Delhi weighed 375
tonnes, 140 of that was fuel. I went to the cockpit and tried like hell to cover my excitement. It's not like I
couldn't believe that I was in the cockpit of the plane and had become dumbfounded with all the buttons
and gizmos. It's that I knew what some of the gizmos were and I wanted to use them. I also wanted to
learn what the other 99.99% of the other doohickies. The captain showed me the computer that does
pitch adjustment over a long flight. The engineer showed me the machinery (computer) that controls the
pneumatic pumps and hydraulic pistons for all moving parts on the plane. He also showed me why they
don't fly in a straight line from point to point. The principle is called the great circle. To fly the shortest
distance from point A to point B, the plane flies in an arc to compensate for the rotation of the earth and
the spherical form of the earth.
As soon as I stepped off the plane I could smell India, just as I was told I would. It smelled of that
stench you get when you step in from the fresh air into an Indian grocery store. Then after I had walked
the tunnels I waited in line to clear "INDIA IMMIGRATION" even though I had no intention of staying more
than four months. Then I had to wait in line to get my hand luggage scanned at security. Then I had to
wait in line to get my luggage. Then I had to wait in line to wait in line to wait for customs. It was at this
point that I really "looked". I removed all of the airport hustle and bustle from my mind and I saw
thousands upon thousands of people dashing around the airport. I could only chuckle to myself, reminded
that 800 million plus people are waiting in line before me.
Well, When I finally got out of the airport (two hours later) I was greeted by family I hadn't seen in
17 plus years. Hemafoi hadn't changed much, Pankaj was tall and handsome, a sort of Indian Jason
Priestly. Deepti is smiling and beautiful, with the same twinkle in her eye of baby years. At home I met
Fova and Girish. On the way home from the airport I could see nothing ahead of the car due to smog, and
of course it was about 2:00am. It's funny though, I didn't miss the elephant walking at the side of the road.
I reached home and had some water, then went straight to bed.
The following day I got a better sense of family life at Hemafoi's place. I don't know if it's due to
the fact that everyone is always in such close proximity to each other at all times; but hey appear to
depend on each other for... everything. I don't think it happens due to anybody's single-handed effort.
That sort of connection makes for some very interesting discussions. They all seem to agree on
everything, and interest is not created in the arguing and debating of things, but the thrust of the
interactions occurs without any conflict. Well, actually there is conflict, but towards the opposing
government, or towards other factors in their society like pollution, education, over-population, or the
traffic.
Ah, the traffic. Words fail me. Okay, first let's set the stage; mostly narrow roads, all of them illkept, suffering with potholes and bumps and cracks and filth. Notice also the absence of lanes, maybe
due to that fact that there are too many vehicles on the road that wouldn't fit lanes, such as those tractors
pulling hay or grass from the agricultural centres. They are so huge that in order to get past one of those,
even though it is as far to the left as possible (they drive on the left side, as in Europe), to get past one you
have to literally drive on the wrong side of the road. It takes up more than one side of the street. I know
this thing wouldn't fit through the smaller streets. Another reason why there may not be lanes is that
nobody would pay attention to them. Hell, the only thing that keeps people on the proper side of the road
is an island, and even that doesn't stop them. Alright, now that we have a general sense of what the
roads are like, let's put in the players. First, the Maruti Suzuki. By far the most common sedan, so
compact it barely fits four people, though I've seen seven get into one, lord only knows how. Powered by
a 800cc, four cylinder lawnmower engine, this little puppy goes on its oreo cookie tires, 0 to 60km/h in the
time it takes to cash traveller's cheques, 1:15. There is also a Maruti minivan, which looks like a toy
version of a homemade Toyota van. Then we add the scooters, buzzing around like ticks on a dog.
Thousands upon thousands of these single piston, 2-stroke miracles scoot around the roads, sidewalks,
rooftops, you name it. I've seen slotcars with more powerful engines. They've all got this wonderful
avocado green mixed with phlegm yellow paint job. They are intended to hold no more than two adults at
a time, but hey, it's a family vehicle by Indian standards. The father drives of course, the biggest of the
three children rides in the basket out front, the mother takes the back seat and sits on it sideways, the
smallest child holds its breath and squeezes between mama and deddy, the last child sits on the mother's
lap. Oh, about helmets, it's the law that the operator of the vehicle wears a helmet. The other
passenger(s) should ride at their own risk, whatever that means. Now I'm not sure of the government has
placed any standards or regulations on the types of helmets to be used, but I've seen army helmets,
cricket helmets, hats stuffed with socks, mixing bowls, garbage cans, and almost anything that is more
firm than the skull, which leaves a lot of room for creativity.
Okay, we've got the Maruti and the scooter, now let's add the commercial vehicles. Most of them
are classified as "public carrier" or "private carrier" which means they carry anything, and they do. They
are all decorated like Christmas trees, with tinsle, ribbons, streamers, pictures... They all have drunk
drivers and air horns that call to the Tamils down south.
Next we have the three wheelers. Almost as plentiful as the scooter, and powered by the same
mosquito engine, these "goondamobiles" are road warriors sent by every dark force i the universe.
Decorated just as gawdy as the commercial vehicles, they spew tonnes of filth into the air. The two stroke
engines are to be run with a mixture of gasoline and 2-stroke engine oil, but I found that these
threewheelwalas add diesel fuel, and probably some tobacco juice, sewer water, and almost anything that
is combustible, aside from alcohol; that goes into another tank. The capacity of a three-wheeler is 3
adults, or 7 Indian adults, or 17 children coming home from school.
And the final category for our mobile zoo is livestock, and livestock powered vehicles. Cows,
elephants (though not so common) camels, horses, donkeys, bhes (buffalo), all trot around with some
kind of load. They are the workers. Then we get the loafers; cows, dogs, cats, people. They wander the
streets trying to find some meaning to life. All of the livestock does a tremendous job to ensure that
enough crap is left in the way for you to step in.
There you have the players. the cars, commercial trucks, scooters, 3 wheelers, and all of the cute
animals, and I'm almost certain I've forgotten something. Rickshaws and bicycles. Now, to add the action.
Apply some fractal equation or formula, take the derivative and add some masala. It's the fractal theory of
organized chaos. Definable by mathematics. Don't forget the horns, how could you forget the horns,
those damn horns. Horns, horns, horns... I'm surprised they even have a button to turn them on. Some
automobile manufacturers have added a feature to the new cars that turns on the lights as soon as the
ignition has started. Well in India I think something was short circuited (not the power in the nuclear
generator, that's another story) and all the horns keep blasting. The drivers tell me that they horn to notify
the other drivers that they are there. Which actually makes sense, because I think that they use their
sense of hearing more than their sense of sight when driving. Personally, I think these guys are horn
happy. They like the blarring horns, just like Eddie likes the smell of farts. They want you to horn. Just
look on the back of any commercial vehicle. In big bold, hand painted letters "HORN PLEASE" they can't
get enough!
Anyways, back to the discussions that occur at the table at Foi's house. I'll be trying to write into
the journal, or postcards, or letters, and Foi will sit with me and chat about how things are in India. How
people view relationships before marriage. How we are all children of the land. How duty is performed
after marriage. Acceptance of whatever is difficult. Some religion. Shakkha. RSS. BJP. but nothing really
political. Stories of when cousins were young. Stories she used to tell them. And of course, Nature Cure
Healing. If I'm discussing things with Pankaj, it's usually about this or that, or about how things are in
Canada. The discussions about relationships are always enlightening. If we talk about relationships it's
usually about the past, but at times we have even opened up about what is happening at the present time.
He is very passionate about the problems India is facing. I think, though it may seem obvious, that all of
the troubles, be it in India or wherever, is a result of the miseducation of the people. This is not wholly
connected to the formal style of schooling, or lack thereof, but the utter ignorance of human decency.
People are being brainwashed and they like it! They want to be able to continue this lifestyle. Swamiji
says that people in India tend to be more content on the whole. I think I agree with him.
Connaught Place is almost like an oasis in the desert. It's a ring of about; well many shops,
smack dab in the middle of New Delhi. I could be found there almost everyday with Pankaj and Deepti. A
splendid place to find the western world in India, so far. After we make the rounds, that is, walking the
circumference of CP we almost always went to the 100% (milk food) cafe. Ice cream, milk shakes, pizza,
french fries... with Bryan Adams pumping through the tin can speakers almost inaudibly. We went there
went I felt like a dose of home, or just to escape at the end of another day. Walking the circumference of
CP is very interesting. There is no doubt that it is a tourist grab, because along with the tourists, you get
the paddlers and the beggars. Children selling flowers and balloons, and deadly persistent too! I'm quite
thankful that I blend in with the natives. Other pedlars included the concrete bookshops, which are, as the
name implies, bookshops sprawled out on the sidewalk. Travel guides new and used (I got the 1993
Lonely Planet for Rs. 300, reg. Rs. 850) Many other good buys to be found. I blew almost Rs. 900 here
buying Richard Bach. Oh Yes! When you manage to squeeze your Maruti into a parking hole, please
leave it in neutral and lower the handbrakes, so they can get to one of the others marooned in the middle.
A nominal charge of Rs. 3-5 to watch the car. Also, watch out for the red seagull plop. At least some
seagulls have the courtesy to wait till they get to a spittoon, but often miss anyways.
CP is a definite contrast to the Karol Bagh market, which I'm told is the largest open bizarre in
Asia. As can be expected with Indian shops, all of the same category stores are located side by side in an
endless stream of sales. It is not difficult to see that this type of merchandising is the origin of the flea
market. On Sundays, there is no room to walk, let alone drive your car on the roads, which puzzles me
because Pankaj tried to do that. There are some really nice shops in this place. My favourite, with no
close second is Bikanerwala's. The most heavenly shop on this side of the earth. The freshest sweets
and namkeens. Chocolate Burfi! Almond Burfi! Cashew Burfi! Pista Burfi! Mint Burfi! Peanut Burfi!.. and
ten other kinds. Jalebee, ras malai, gulab jamun, peda... In all seriousness, this place has hundreds of
different kinds of sweets available. The prices are somewhat reasonable, but the place is always busy,
and forget about going there when there is a festival, and get out of the area during Raksha Bundan and
Diwali.
Dealing with money in India is like trying to play monopoly with Gilligan and Thurston Howell the
Third as banker. You feel like it's a stupid game to play with complete morons, while the banking red tape
can make you feel stranded on an island. I went to a bank to get some TCs cashed. Now I must admit
that my first experience was the worst, and missions are becoming less painful, but not much. You walk
up to the bank and see none other than the overweight skipper (in Indian attire of course) sitting on a
ricketty chair outside of the bank. You sort of chuckle to yourself, wondering why a man would want to
hang out in front a bank sipping, what else, chai. Then you begin to laugh when you see the rifle by his
side and realize that he's the security guard. Don't laugh too hard, you might miss the doorway. The front
of the Bank was about 50 feet wide. All but 18 inches is covered with a security cage type doorway. The
18 inch gap is chained together at the top and bottom so it cannot be opened any further. Carefully watch
your step and squeeze into the bank. Now you see, it's designed in a way so a thief has to wait before he
can dash out of the building. And if he does make it out, the skipper will pop his butt off. Upstairs, where
they deal with foreign accounts, you will find a large dull and dusty room with some desks, rickety chairs,
and filing cabinets (which are probably used to store chai and paan supplies). The people "working" there
are a vision from the 60s. Thick glasses, schlick hair, the collars, the bells... Of the dozen or so desks
drowning in browning and yellowed paper, you have to figure out which one it is that they do TCs at. You
wait your turn in line, which is a figment of your imagination, because there are no lines. The teller will
serve whomever is brave enough to be closest to his B.O drenched body and has not passed out and
become unconscious. When you finally stumper the courage, or the insanity to go face to face with the
man, he smiles with his brown and red rocks in his mouth and tells you to come back tomorrow, he closes
at 11:00am and it's now 11:01, time for chai. Shit! The next day you show up at 9:00 'cause you figure
you want to be able to play their game too, and the bank opens at 10:30. Shit! Well, you meet your friend
at last, and he still hasn't had a bath and he's still wearing the same clothes and he's probably munching
on the same piece of paan. You're tired of this crap and hand him your passport, your signed TCs and an
extra 20 for speedy service. It works. You only had to spend an hour upstairs, now to go downstairs and
collect your stack of Rs. 100 notes with staples that they should use in constructing houses. You finally
get them separated and they've all got this wonderful tear, for which most shopkeepers will refuse to
accept, or hassle you like crazy. The bills stay in circulation until they look like dried reused hankies or
even toilet paper. The coins are made from the lightest aluminum and blackens your fingers.
Mad Max Beyond...anything I've ever seen. PowPowPowPowPow. The sound of a semiautomatic pop gun rolls down the street. Ganeshji is here. I know it's a form of transportation for loads
larger than what would fit in the regular autorickshaws. This too is a three wheeler, but larger. The engine
is mounted on the front wheel fork, and is also, surprise surprise, a 2-stroke hell spewer. It really looks
like something from a 1920 version of Mad Max.
The Minister of building and construction maintenance, I know there is one, should be fired.
There is not one building in India that is not completed. By this I mean that every building is being worked
on. And by the time the end of the initial construction, the part that was made in the beginning is
dilapidated and needs renovation and repair. So they begin to fix it, and by that time the last portion of the
building needs repair.
If there has ever been a show that has captivated my 100% attention for one half hour, even more
than the Simpsons, is Indian Fashion Television. Guys, I'll leave the rest to your imagination. Yes, they
dress up and down.
Newstrack Feb. 7, 1994.
"Our First Story. Kidnapping. A growing industry and for good reason. High profits, low costs..."
To get a phone number takes 8 years.
7 days black Rs. 30,000
30 days black Rs. 8,000
It's a government undertaking.
I've learned to fart, burp, and pick my nose with no shame.
This Nature Cure thing is really interesting. If it really does work, and apparently it does, then
there is a cure, rather, prevention for all diseases. It seems like the owner's manual for the human body
has finally surfaced. Who would put diesel into a Corolla? Someone who thought it would work fine and
do no harm. Why do we not fill the tank when it's full? Because there is already fuel there. Our whole
attitude towards eating needs rejigging. We are not eating for energy, but to replace lost physical
structure.
AGRA
- I wasn't expecting much when we decided to go see the Taj Mahal. Of course it is one of the wonders of
the world, but I've seen so many pictures of it, that the idea of something magnificent didn't even occur to
me. It took us 4hrs30min to cover 198km, bombing down the highway. I was giving dirty looks to the
truck drivers as we passed by them.
- When we finally arrived in Agra, it was sunset, and we were unable to see the Taj that night. Instead we
found a Hotel and got some Gujarati supper, then we went to A government emporium that boasted to
have the largest replica of the Taj. We were expecting to see some monstrous thing when it turned out to
be small enough to fit on a kitchen table. See how it is pretty, how it is clear.
- The next morning we saw the Taj, and let me say, I was completely astonished. Why would a man build
that for a dead wife?
- Inside there was a guard who showed us the details of the Taj, the drip curse, the glow of the inlaid
stones and marble under a flashlight, the echo in the dome, the clarity of the marble.
- The story is, it took 20,000 people 22yrs to complete the structure. The emporer was going to build one
in black onyx as an opposite of his wife. He cut off the arms off all the workers so they could not
reproduce the Taj. The chief engineer designed a curse into the Taj, that it would drip water very slowly
but continuously, right on the tomb of the lady. They have tried to find the place where the water comes
from, but it is nowhere to be found.
- There are artificial tombs on the main level, and just recently they have opened the underground where
the real tombs lie. The four pillars at the corners of the central structure are designed to fall away from the
centre if they ever do fall. There is a mosque to one side and a grand hall to the other side.
- The vultures of Agra drove me nuts "only Rs.95 please sir."
- Hagling was fun. We talked the Hotel down to Rs.400 from Rs.800. the leather whip started at Rs.125
and went down to Rs.20.
- We were trying to find a place called Dayal Bagh on our way out of Agra. We asked people on the side
of the road where Dayal Bagh was. The all responded in Hindi "turn right at bhagwan talkie" I hit the floor
laughing. Then I learned that talkie is the word for movie cinema. Everybody we asked said turn right at
bhagwan talkie. At last, Pankaj asked a man fixing his threewheeler, Bhaisab, Bhagwan kaa he?"
- The Red Fort, Just as the one in Delhi, was an interesting visit. You walk around and see the lavishness
that these emporers lived in. You can also see the empty spots where there once were jewels, until the
british came to loot.
- Dayal Bagh, a little district just a bit away from Agra is completely underrated. The RadhaSwami
Association is building a temple there for 90 years now, they have about 50 to go. It is sad to see people
defacing it already. I don't understand how people can spend five days making one cut in a small piece of
marble. They have their own little village and to the side a stack of raw marble.
Y2 VIRAT NAGAR
Travelling by train from New Delhi to Kalka, Going towards the Ashram, I see Usha, and I see the trees
scattered about, some alone, some in bunches, but never in a crowd. They do not know where to stand in
the cool morning stillness. A mist of uncertainty and unbridled passion cover the roots, the principles of
life.
At the stations during the voyage, a different kind of bird appears. All the birds thus far have been gliding
on the mist, swirling it with a flutter of their wings, breathing the same morning air and whispering a sweet
song as they go to find breakfast. The birds at the station flock around the train, swooping in frenzy, Their
song is a loud metallic whine, "chai chai chaieo"
The incredibly small houses made of cards shelter those who gamble with the morning. Squeezed
together, as if designed on hand-drawn grid paper, the dwellings stand, looking as though the slightest
wind may topple the cards. The people are alive by chance, and the magic of probability shows that they
will die as they were born, in absolute poverty. There are no diamonds; the word is probably unknown.
There are no hearts of forgiveness, and the only spades are those that dig the graves. The clubs beat the
rags cleaner.
Catch a glimpse of Usha before you are masked by uncertainty, how predictable. When you give up, she
shows herself again. The tease is hiding behind a veil of clouds.
The towers of hope reach out to the heavens from the huts and even some tents. They search for a
message from God. The message is an escape from the brutal reality of daily existence. The message
probably comes on DD Metro.
The train ride began at 6:00am on the Himalayan Queen, 2nd class from New Delhi to Kalka. We pulled
out in the darkness and saw the early morning lights of the sun rising and the people of the villages light
their fires for heat and cooking. My first real glimps of village life zoomed past with the solitary trees and
spacious green fields. Finally, after stopping at many interesting stations we came to Kalka, and took a
taxi to Virat Nagar, 30min away. Then, three weeks of enlightening experiences began. The english
lectures were nothing short of excellent, as I expected. The view of India from the Ashram was
breathtaking. The foothills of the Himalayan mountains were to the north. From the Ashram you could
also see the lights of Shimla at night, right along the crest of the foothills. Behind the Ashram was the
world of the seasonal Saraswati river, in its rocky dryness, just over the edge of the cliff. To the south
were the really interesting boxed out plots of agricultural fields. The plots were harvested and then left
abandoned. Grass overgrowth now dominates the squares of dry land that are bordered with bushes.
Our first hike took us through these plots, then down into the riverbed. We walked north, along the rocks,
and came across graves of children, and there were two dogs and vultures battling over a carcass. It was
the body of another child. 6km later we finally completed the circuit after passing through some roadways,
bridges, and the village of Islam Nagar.
- the bunyan tree
- animal carcass
My three weeks at the Ashram allowed me to become too attached to the boys in the Hostile. 50
boys who are without parents are sponsored by the disciples of Swamiji for $365Cdn per year. They are
clothed, sheltered, and fed as well as educated in the Ashram school. The school is for children of the
local area, from KG to 10th class. We played geelee dunda, cricket, and that game with stones and
sticks. I was able to communicate surprisingly well with the children, I'm glad they taught me more Hindi,
but they were unable to grasp much English. Why am I not surprised? They are quite protected from "the
West", and were squeezing me for as much as they could, not to take advantage of me, but rather to
experience some first hand extravagance. The swiss army knife, despite my fierce disapproval, was
quickly snatched and completely explored. I was just afraid of them getting hurt, of course. The flashlight
and the walkman were almost a written invitation to these boys. Everyday they would quietly sneak closer
to the door of my room. They had to be pretty quiet because Kaul Uncle, the principle of the school, was
in the room just beside mine. Eventually, their visits became so expected I bought some candies to give
them when they came. They were treating me with the best of care. I didn't even notice this until over a
month after I left the Ashram.
I'm hoping to continue to sponsor one boy every year, because I've seen what they are getting,
though sometimes it may seem like a reason not to even support the mission. Later! Sometimes I was so
upset by the way the kids were treated, I almost felt like approaching Swamiji. But I have to keep in mind
that these are special souls to be able to live in such proximity to him. They get to do Aarti everyday at
7:00pm, blowing the shunck, ringing the bells, then standing in straight lines down either side of the centre
strip, shortest to tallest, hands together, head up, shoulders back. The bhajans and the clapping thing
were always fun. They will be my dear friends and brothers always, even if they were photo-happy! Jai
Jaga Di Photo Snap.
I know why I enjoyed it. The smell of the place was enough to make me smile when others
thought I was weird. It was a really nostalgic and a new experience. I could almost get there in the dark
with no light. And I was usually there for some time around 2:00. Where else would Shyam, or Krishna,
or Gopal, or Govinda be? The Gaushala. 75 cows and more to come (!) I would sit under the Banyan
tree and watch the beautiful creatures who are my mothers graze, feed their young (including me) and do
the things cows do. I felt the urge to play the flute occasionally. I was really anxious to milk one of the
cows, but Shyam Brijlal went first. The cow didn't really approve of the idea of strangers touching her
(who can blame her) and she kicked, knocking the bucket over. Well, after that we said no chance and
just settled for a pose for the camera. To mile the cows, there isn't any complex machinery, of course,
just a bucket and two skilled hands that take the milk. The buckets are then empties into the larger milk
container and the milk is boiled just before use. Boy is it rich! Every night we have a hot glass (s/s) of
milk and some sugar. The fields of crop are treated with eh best fertilizer and it is also used in the Huvan
Kund as a floor sealer. I noticed that in order to get the cow to drop the milk from the udder, they first get
the calf to suckle. When the milk is in the lower portion of the udder they milk the cow. I was told that the
cow only releases milk two times day. As soon as the man started milking the cow it would urinate. If you
know anything about the anatomy of a cow, this can be a very dangerous thing. Panchamrit. And for a
good laugh, you should hear a cow's stomach grumble. For an even better laugh watch her blow one, or
find a frog in the toilet, but not as funny as people belching or farting (after the lean) during a quiet lecture.
After some walks when we saw those stumpy trees with no leaves (intentionally cut) I saw how
environmentally friendly the ashram seemed. The leaves were cut by the bush people to make bowls and
plates. They grow most of their vegetables, and during the rush, they purchase it from the market. The
only created connection with the outside is electricity, whatever that means, and incoming calls, and mail.
When I said the ashram seemed environmentally friendly, I mean the experience is basic living. Once,
after I collected a full bag of garbage, I asked where I could pitch it, hoping to hear "in that bin so it can be
taken to the landfill." Then it occurred to me "wait a minute, I'm in
India" which means pitch it
anywhere. It took all my strength to throw that little bag over the edge of the cliff and into the valley of the
river.
With the warming weather I was able to stand the nights, which were once so cold once, SHyam
and I lit candles in the room for heat. Eventually it was t-shirt weather, and Shyams were happy campers.
I made some great friends; Mahima, Shyam B., Laxman, Heather, Shivdas, the boys, the staff,
and many more. We had great fun at Yoga (!?), and the remarkable treks and quests to get Maggie
noodles and Marie biscuits. It was an experience with no equal.
The following bit is the contents of my lecture notes.
The difference between love and lust is that love only gives but lust demands a return.
Sataguna - light - etherical
Rajaguna - movement - (subtle)
Tamaguna - stability - inert (gross)
Infatuations are the root cause of suffering: we are trapped in space and time.
Knowledge and wisdom are useless without devotion to supreme consciousness.
Ram Gita: Urth Panchaka (real nature of God and soul and obstacles and solutions)
The five main questions: Devotion, Nescience, knowledge, consciousness, ?
What is truth? These five questions are the basis of Indian (Hindu?) Philosophy.
You can't remove unhappiness and anxiety unless you know about body and spirit. Knowledge about
body and spirit is the most useful for us.
Virag - Detachment
Maya (Nature) - Nescience - If pure consciousness is residing everywhere and absolute truth is
everywhere (Brahma), where did ignorance come from. Supreme consciousness (truth, knowledge, and
bliss) Root cause of nescience is "I AM". When soul becomes identified with body and its limitations. "I
AM" kshatriya, wife, white, disabled. "MINE" and "I" has 2 facets. Pure I is supreme truth. Impure I is
identified with body. Ignorance leads to infatuation leads to possessiveness leads to suffering.
God is the power which shows immeasurable power into measurable form.
Use your tool box: Mind, Intellect, Consciousness
Visual and perceptible world is a projection of Maya
Conclusion: Nature is necessary to serve as a media for pure consciousness. Cosmic energy (intellect) is
first. Then nature. Nature (matter) is a projection of energy. Nature's first projection is "I am"ness.
MAYA II: Cosmic intellect ->ego (I) -> mind -> ether...
{The whole earth is not a cause of suffering, but a piece of it can be deadly.}
VIDYA - causal phenomenon of nature (unchangeable, eternal energy)
AVIDYA - Effect of Nature, cause of pain due to ignorance, attachment to material. Attachment to nature
is cause of suffering.
SOLUTION: Have knowledge about nature of nature.
What is real knowledge? Infinity is not any number, infinity is zero. "ONE" (1) can't be perfect. Only zero
is perfect. Truth is found when there no one (1). In deep sleep there is no I, no identity. When there is
one, there is always a second. Samadhy. Deep sleep is Tamasic, inert. Samadhy is satvic, and thought
could be rajasic. Duality is due to entity. There is only one absolute truth (Brahma) infinity. Finiteness
can't be perfect.
2 Aspects of detachment:
1. Not good for me but maybe for others
gives it acceptance and some value
2. Gives it no value at all
does not even recognize it. (gold dust story)
God is not a subject of belief but a subject of knowledge and examination.
Acceptance is wrong. Non-acceptance is the way to find the truth.
(This part requires a bit of background. I was not making it to the Yoga classes and morning Hindi
lectures. When I showed up to the evening english lecture, Swamiji asked what happened to me.
Nothing gets by him. I told him I was in my room reading. He asked what I was reading. I told him it was
a book on morality (Lila). He asked what it said. I told him it was the author's search to find morality,
examining European, American, and Native cultures. Then he expressed his opinions on the subject. He
asked me to sit right in front of him, and he talked directly into my soul. Nothing else existed. I couldn't
even back down if I wanted to, but I didn't.)
MORALITY
The concept of morality is based on the truth of the society or culture. NO MORALITY IS CORRECT.
Indian morality is based on food, sex, and behaviour.
10 "Indian commandments"
5 Niyamas - 5 Yamas (see "How to be a Yogi")
correlates the two facets of an individual. Personal/Social.
If an individual is "personally" happy, then he is also "socially" happy.
7 QUALITIES TO BETTER YOU THAN ANIMALS
1. Education - Vidya
2. Austerity - moderation of the mind & senses - penance
3. Charity
4. Knowledge/Wisdom
5. Good Character
6. Divine Qualities - generosity, love, compassion
7. Righteousness
If you don't have these qualities you are worse than an animal, because you have the capability to use
them.
Oneness is the cause of duality, because one can split. Remember, when there is one and only one
entity, it cannot be perfect. Zero is perfect. With zero, there can be no identity, only absolute truth.
What is the difference between God and Soul?
If soul achieves stable wisdom and knowledge, then there is no difference between God and Soul, but
soul is transitory.
The world is not futile, because the effect is just as real as the cause.
God is the cause of bondage because God is the cause of infatuation. Bondage is the shadow, and how
can you have shadow without light? The obstacle is incomplete knowledge.
What is the path of devotion? Direct relationship with Godhead is the best means of emancipation.
If you follow the path of righteousness, automatically you will achieve detachment. This is the basis of
Yoga. Without being a Yogi you can't have pure knowledge. Without pure knowledge you can't be
perfect.
RIGHTEOUSNESS -> DETACHMENT -> YOGA -> KNOWLEDGE -> MOKSHA -> PERFECTION
MASS QUESTION: What is the difference between Saralsobow (innocent mind) and devotion through
Yoga. Just when one experiences God? DEVOTION.
SUMMARY: Path of knowledge leads to detachment, thereby achieving pure wisdom and eventually
realizing the nature of God. The easier path to get the devotion of Lord is not necessarily based on
knowledge and detachment. The easier path is feeling pure love for God. If pure love is present,
detachment will come. Love and possession are two conflicting forces. They cannot coexist for the same
goal. Scattered love always loses strength. Single pointed love is unshatterable. Knowledge and wisdom
become subordinate to devotion. This unbreakable path of devotion is called Yoga (eternal Dharma).
Without the grace of a saintly person, one cannot travel this path of devotion. The process of this path
does not involve Yoga postures, Japa, Rituals... it's independent and needs no support.
Saralaso Baw - Innocent mind, tender, stainless, truth towards oneself, absence of deception.
contented for whatever you got by your own effort. See things for what "is".
Approach learned people - without this, how are you to know what your duty is?
PATH OF KNOWLEDGE
Path of knowledge can have two facets
1. Theistic - quest for supreme cause. Aim to realize ultimate truth.
2. Atheistic - analytic process, leads to vacuum.
Path of devotion is filled with divine love, leads to ocean of bliss.
Sadhana Bhakti - Causeful love. Disciplined way. not just of free love.
Siddha Bhakti - Causeless love. Sahajaa. *not for everyone
knowledge must have an object.
knowledge has limits, diversities.
God is beyond description of knowledge and
diversities of knowledge.
No need to believe in treatises.
SADHANA BHAKTI - Follows Bhagavat Dharma.
a. listening to divine discourses with divine
company.
b. reciting divine glory, pastime as above
c. Service of all beings
d. all activities become worship of God.
e. salutation of God always.
f. Believe you are servant of divine
g. Being close to God. Friend of God.
h. Eventually surrender to God.
Lord is like the ocean and cannot quench thirst.
Saint is like a cloud, water from ocean that lets you drink.
Be
Lord is like a sandlewood tree
Saint is the wind that carries the fragrance.
Saint is greater than God? Maybe to actively enlighten you.
God is the source of suffering, saints provide means of refuge, but saints must be obligated to keep
teachings pure or clear or you end up with the mess of Christianity.
DUTY: Student
Householder
Austerity
Monk
Path of passion has 8 elements
Path of devotion has 9 elements. - extra is complete surrender.
Thought is not the property of nature, but of the soul. Thought is property of knowledge, and thus of the
soul. If your thoughts are with God, then your soul is with God. Thought is everything. If there is no
thought then there really is nothing.
"Whatever and wherever your thought is, you are the same and you are there, because your soul's
property is thought. Thought is not the property of nature, my dear. Though is not [the] property of body.
That is the property of the self, because thought is related with knowledge, and knowledge is the property
of Godhead, and incarnation of Godhead is called your soul."
Bhagavat Gita Ch 16
There are two kinds of people in the world (HDW!)
1. Demonic - greedy inside and out
busy with sex and food
2. Divine - believe in Karma and God
able to achieve highest good
Karma Yoga is the devotional path (Hanumanji)
- do without desire
- lustless love, desireless service, doubtless knowledge
LABOUR vs. SERVANT
desire vs. devotion
Passion, greed, anger, pride, delusion, and disguise will prevent one from reaching God.
Limitations of a Lifetime
In this Life, at this point in time, I am wondering whether or not I have the tools, the wisdom and the
maturity, to see these teachings as truth. I must be sure not to take this in blind faith. If I listen to a
lecture and understand everything, I may want to say it's the truth, if I think it is. Maybe I'm missing a
critical loophole. Actually, with me, I think I'd be way off the path, following the leader. I should be careful
not to be sold on something. The question is HOW DO I KNOW FOR SURE WHAT TRUTH IS? WHAT
IS TRUE? I understand what Guruji says to be the truth. Some other Guru's lectures may also be the
truth, but they are different. All truth is absolute and cannot be contradictory. PHIL 145.
After a lecture, some people stayed and sang some Bhajans. Mahima sang a nice one, then there was a
lull. I told Dadima to sing some songs and she said she had already done so at the Mandir. I told her to
show the people how wonderfully she can sing. She said they already know.
There is a conflict between "objectivity" is it?!?!? wait.
There is a conflict between seeing things for what "is", and the "illusions", or rather, "non-material".
KRISHNAMURTI vs. SANYASI
If you use drums and dhoons and songs to remind yourself about God, is your vision or ideal of God a
hallucination or a de-hallucination? Removing any inhibitions and allowing the self to surface. Are your
connections with the supreme truth based on things unreal? (Wait a second Shyam, what's so unreal
about a trance? It is a perception, is it not?) Is the whole think like the Dholak? "high" and fluttery on one
side, the romantic side, and that is responded by the smack of "bass" which is hard, scientific. But you
listen to the beat together, that is when it becomes music, when there isn't a dualistic antagonism. Maybe
the trick is to not hit the drum at all. Maybe you have to participate in both to understand. Right Om
Prakash.
The Tools
Listening - How the drummer fits in the band, but more important (?!) how the others are sounding.
Where do drummer's learn material, from within? What is the true test of the drummer? For fill-in or for
how long he can play standard beats, or deciding when fill-ins are required.
Morality is based on culture.
Sheel is morality. Sheila is to be moral?
The Om Prakash Files
Why did the Red-Head Didi tell me Om Prakash has a father who will teach him tabla when I told her I
wanted to send him to music school. She said he comes from a wealthy family.
Does power corrupt the Didis too?
Does it reach Swamiji? God Forbid!
What actually goes on in the hostile?
Was Minaxidevi's behaviour towards Om Prakash strictly due to her ego problem, or is it a general feeling
amongst the people at the Ashram to belittle the Buchoos?
What is the competition between the Didis really like?
J. Krishnamurti - Atheist
V. Bawraji - Monotheist
The difference between Krishnamurti and Swamiji is that Krishnamurti's teachings are based on
thoughtlessness of the mind and emptiness and stillness of the mind. Swamiji teaches us to have a mind
full of love.
Is this waffling from "firm determination and "absolute devotion" a cowardice means of keeping your
options open. Am I too afraid to fight the good fight of rationality vs. total absorption into God? (Wait a
second Shyam, isn't that what you're doing now?)
The Adventures with Swadharmanandji.
"When you are in my company, you will love me, as I love me"
God can be found in the same way we find relationships. Devotion first, then knowledge, or knowledge
first, then devotion. Eventually, both are present.
The Entrepreneurial God.
Apply the theories and principles of entrepreneurship and marketing and management to spirituality.
During a hindi lecture at the Yoga Education Centre in Chandighar, there was some feedback in the sound
system. The person who set up the system conveniently placed the microphone almost directly in front of
the speaker. Guruji didn't seem to be disturbed by the problem, but I was quite irritated. Then I looked
around and saw that nobody was even reacting to the feedback. Nobody was showing any difficulty in
hearing the lecture. That is when I started whincing in pain. Then, at a moment when Guruji's intonation
hit a high, the feedback went from a pulsing low hum to constant high squeel, and finally somebody else
noticed, and it was the right person. Guruji looked at the mic with a disdainful headshake. That was all I
needed. I lunged forward, moved the speaker and aimed it wider. The problem subsided, but it was still
there. I turned down the amp a bit. BINGO. Guruji watched me as I took my seat again, with an evidently
relieved expression. He smiled at me. The same thing happened in the Dhyan Mandir with the fan.
Guruji has told someone else that "he" will take birth one more time. (He's apparently in his 27th birth as a
Yogi) He is the closest manifestation to God (God's knowledge) that I have. Guruji is the closest to
Godhead. But if I wanted to talk to God, why wouldn't I talk to my "self"?
Pinjore is a neat little town. It should be evident that I don't mean neat as in tidy. Pinjore is the typical
Indian town, with one major road, along which lies a garland of wilted shops and homes. There is actually
a half decent general store and a very inaccesible post office. I could not believe what we went through to
find that post office. Walking up and down the road, always passing it, and always asking for directions to
the post office. It ended up right on top of the General store, but was hidden because of the narrow one
way stairs up to it. These steps were so long and narrow that you had to shout out before going up or
down so that there would not be two people going in opposite directions in the middle of the stairs. There
was a sign in front of the building that identified the Post Office, but of course it was dirty and rusted over.
Ridiculous as it sounds, there was an amusement park in Pinjore. It was erected by the Haryana State
Board of Tourism. There is a bit of a garden, a four chair ricketty ferris wheel that is powered by a
modified bicycle, a camel, and of course a little ice cream shop. It was excellent fun when we went there.
Not because the men that took us (Brijlal and I) there kept trying to hold our hands as we walked through
the park, but after, as we were leaving the park, the car got a flat tire. I was excited by this prospect of an
adventure, and jumped out of the car, into the trunk, where I found a spar tire. There is a God. There is a
nice God too, because he gave us a jack and a lug nut wrench. After a good laugh, Shyam and I were
through with the tire, had it repaired and back on, in something just short of two hours. Five to take it off,
five to put it back on, and the rest to find the tire repair dude, who no doubt was on his chai break. On the
way back to the ashram we were rewarded with, Coca-Cola!!!. It had just been re-introduced to India after
a 20 year bann. I was told that India could not pay its debt to the U.S., so the only form of payment
possible was lifting the bann on U.S. corporations.
Chandhigar
- Brahmarishi Yoga Training Centre
- the private lesson on contentment of Indians.
- Sector 19c bizzare.
- It was designed by the French. The roads are nice and wide, the whole city is clean by Indian standards,
Imagine what Brampton would look like if it were run over by Panjabies.
- 4 glasses of fresh squeezed O.J. for Rs.10
- corner store barbar, crate with a cracked mirror nailed to a tree.
- temples like phone booths
Panjab
- agriculture
- dirty
- guards
- Mad Max 3 wheelers
Ludhiana
- pollution, people
- traffic, hoseries, wide load trucks, concentrated marketing
- Bal market - Nutso, sarees!
- Purana market - all wholesale, kurta.
- Dall Market - Blouse
- narrow streets
- the boys hanging out, getting grub.
- open sewers, patang
- EATING - Jyotiji's mother's, sister's
- MTV, gameshows, Ankadee
- 3 centres, vishwa niketan K-10
- Rs.350 (15.21) 6 months tuition for Med School. Rs.15 (0.63) month for regular.
- riding scooter 1*234
- complaints from the Me section (Heather - Hedder)
-university and mandir tour
Y3 BENARES
- day 1. Feb 17. Waiting as usual for Guruji, no problem.
-open sewer with depository.
- Packing like mad into the bus.
- Bumping down the highway to Vrindaban in a bus meant to seat 20-22 children, but sitting 25-30 adults.
- Jammed into the corner with an out of body experience. (I will always love you. Sept 7, 7:31pm, what's
Usha doing?)
- 12:20am, reach some hall, throw down some rough beddings and begin to write. I wonder about the
commotion we caused outside the building as we entered. Banging, horns, and shouting in the middle of
the night.
- told to wake at 4:00 and take a bath to go to the mandir's
- Shivdas makes a suggestion to ask Krishna to allow us to see in our minds, what it would have been like
in his pastimes instead of the "new" Vrindaban.
- day 2. Vrindaban. Saint
, a great devotee, was told by God in a dream that the Lord can be found in
idol form in three places. - 1st place. the temple had an interesting entrance, squat and narrow tunnel into
the larger cave like room. There were bats hanging from the ceiling.
- 2nd Bihar. Incredible the way people are just entranced by the energy of the room. The man behind us
was wailign away, crying for mercy. People were throwing flower at the alter, and then dashing to receive
one in return.
- The gardens of Radha's dancing. The trees looked like giant bonsai. The monkey troops.
-temple dashing
-everyone selling prasad Rs.2
-Birthplace of Krishna in Mathura
- Where Krishna played flute
- Radha was thirsty and krishna made a river with his flute
- monkeys, pigs
- where the lord's idols were found
- Sleeping in the open in Etawa
- day 3. "one thing I've noticed, there are no roads in India, just holes with tar in them." - Shivdas
- Bumbling along some road towards chitrakut.
- incredible scenery of sandground scattered with bushes and trees.
- dried up ravines and shacks have grown from the ground.
- towns, god only knows why, are found here and there.
- the timely blowout of the tires. 1st pop-hiss. 2nd bang, 1st stop in Jaspura (would take too long), 2nd
couldn't do it, 3rd pretty busy area. Took quite some time, manual tire change, I could not step out of the
bus and I think it may have been the tree there.
- stopped in Jaspura, chai, washing, taking a leak, perfect teeth lady, I could live there.
chitrakut
- Ram spent most of his years of exile here.
- Hanumanji told Tulsidas of Ram
- Swamiji walked from Ayodhya to Chitrakut
- Stayed the night in an Ashram, sharing a room were Shyams, Shivdas, Anirud, Laxman, and Guruji.
- not to put feet pointing south or east.
- day 3. Sphaticshila, bath on the bank of the Mandakshani river. When we were all so parched, we were
able to drink from the spring mouth of the river.
- Ansuya ashram. Source of Mandakshani, Gupt Godavari river.
- Ram's natural cave home, bats
- Janki Kund, Sitamata's bathing spot.
- laundry with Mahima
- The rivers I bathed in. Yammuna, Ganga, Saraswati, Mandakshani, Godavari.
- day 4. Cold bath, barefoot,
- Kamadha Giri Parikrama. The saints with the rocks doing body lengths, the nude saint, the monkey
fights.
- Lakshman Dila. Laxman's lookout point over Ram's territory. Stairs to the heavens.
- Lord still resides in the mountains.
- There are enclosed caves in the mountains.
- Ayodhya was a very long drive
- Feb 22. Bathed in Ram Ghat.
-Maniram ke Chowney, all 10 laks (1,000,000) shlocks inlaid into the walls in black marble. 6 kunds, 77
ch/kund
RAM JANMABHOOMI
- too many security guards, too little security.
- Who was in the cage, the monkeys or us,
- the temple and idol of Ram were about 50ft from the path.
- There were no obvious signs of the mosque
- tensions grow between disciples.
- Heather Bananas and Hindi lessons
- Went to Gyanpur, Guruji's Birthplace.
- 23rd, ill most of the day.
-24th went to Benares, took boat across Ganga, bathed strong currents.
- congested skyline
- shopping in the little flea market
- Kashi Vishwanath
- The story of the Shiva Mandir
- Pravachan after, sideways, no toilet paper.
- 7up COLD!!, chocolate, SWEET!!
- 25th. Bathed in Ganga at Vindyachal Ghat. Ashtabuji- Mahasaraswati, Vindyachal-mataSaraswati,
Kalikho-Kali, all three make parikrama. (to go to these places?)
- The spot where Guruji gave his first lecture.
- Thousands of people crammed onto the steps and the surrounding area.
- Ashtabhuji, Kaans tries to kill Yogamaya (baby girl) and she flies into the sky transformed, claiming
Krishna was in the village and would still kill Kaans. Vindyavasani Temple. Sidhpeat, or blessings were
bestowed to Guruji here. His main penence for the mission was done here.
- Where Bhagirati built Tapasya, Valmikis ashram, Sita Mandir, where Sita sat under the Bunyan tree she
planted. Akshaybhat, Lawv Kush Janmabhoomi
-where Valmiki wrote the Ramayana on the bank of the Ganga. Sita planted the tree there, sat by it,
meditated, and eventually was taken into the earth there.
-26th Day off at Gyanpur. Take a bath and do laundry at the pump for two, scrubbing and smacking,
rinsing rolling and squeezing.
- eating cane in the tree
- walking through downtown at night shopping with Heather and Shivdas
- beautiful moon over bathing ghat.
- the bus runs out of gas
- 27th. Taking a bath in the open air at the well, no problem, lost toothbrush down the well.
- Ye Zindegee He
- Lazing like a big Sunday
- the sun is really coming down
- The best experience for thrills I've had since Nikhil and I took the Sentra. I climbed on a Rajdoot 128,
2stroke, 1 cylinder, with Amit. Considering the experience I've had with these things, I did pretty well.
One down, three up. After putzing around for a bit, we decided to refuel. There was a problem with the
accelerator cable sticking (flooded), I should have known better than to expect a key, so we are just
supposed to use a switch and the kicker, or pop the clutch. With no helmets, I took the bike to Manpura,
whick is 21km from Gyanpur (Kowol). The presence of Police scarred me a bit, but we were okay. I
couldn't believe Amit expected me to ride through such a congested area. It was quite busy on the roads.
Then on the way back he decided to ride it and stalled it, I think it was flooded. Pushed it to a mechanic
who opened the plug to let it breath. After we got it started, I took it to a safe walking distance from
Gyanpur and then he took over. He didn't see the speedbumps and applied brakes at the last minute,
fishtailed, and almost flipped it. I almost killed him. We made it back okay, but he got hell from Rajdevji.
- Once again there was a sangeet, but this time it was not so long and the music was incredible.
- 28th. Told to wake up at 6:30, and for some reason we listen. DOn't even attempt to board the bus until
8:00.
- The bus gets stuck in the mud. Two feet more to go back, and fo rsome reason they decide to go
forward. Then they get stuck in the middle. The use bricks and planks to no avail. The get a neighbor's
tractor which breaks the rope. Take it forward using steel cable. Cronered once it's out of the mud. Make
a U-turn in a space 8" shorter than the bus. Revs and barrels over the mudpit, and crashes it into the
ditch by the side of the road. By 11:30 it's finally on the road. We still don't leave until 12:30 with all the
goodbyes. Six hours late?
-24+hrs later, and miles of tensions mounting on the bus, we arrive in Delhi, with the only delays of a one
hour gas pit, and the bull cart accident.
- The wonderful contrast of M.P. and U.P. The dry and almost barron to the luscious green right beside
each other.
- day 4. The water pump on this bus is on the frits. So we stop at every town and refill the rad. Where's
Indian Tire?
- The towns here and there have the most distinctive clay red drawings on the walls outside, almost like
graffiti. BJP and lotus flowers.
-Notice some of the buildings. Sometimes you can see a wall made of bricks, but are not set in any
mortar; they are just free standing. Shops are made with wood stands or boxes, and little thin poles
elevating them about a metre off the ground. The canopies are made with straw weaved into a frame of
sticks, (Three little pigs?). deluxe ones have a canopy of half-pipe clay. ?
- are the bhes rabid? What with the foaming mouth you hideous mudda cont.
- Oh ya, as if wasn't crowded enough, tey decided to add a money to our guest list.
- where did Dingus come from?
- love the autoshops in this joint.
- Moomphaly 200gr. for Rs.4 Pig out!
- MOONYASI - yuk yuks in Allahabad. Poor Shivdas minding his own business, started to get picked on
by Shyam B.. Shivdas responds that he didn't come here to be insulted, Shyam says "where do you
usually go?" and there began the night.
- day 5. The bus is in to be fixed so we get to sleep in. The mosquitos almost killed us.
- walked into Allahabad, saw the Bungalaman on his bike trying to fly. Took the rickshaw back.
- Went to Sangam, the juncture of the Gunga, Yammuna, and Saraswati. Beautiful sunset, flutes, Guruji
dunking us in as usual.
- Mahima is doing my laundry.
- During the first evening sutsang we had, I was remembering the time I asked Guruji about Krishnamurti.
It was the first time he gave me such a kind of choice. "Krishnamurti's philosophy is based on empty
mind. I proport a mind full of devotion and love" now you choose.
- Maybe an empty mind is necessary for full intellect?
- The Indian mosquitos are interesting beasts. The females wear saris, and the males wear dothis. You
can't feel them bite you, but later, the bite itches a bit, then turns almost into a pimple. Once, in Allahebad,
we were staying at an ashram, and the room was absolutely infested with mosquitos. We talked to Guruji
about it and HE gave us a fumegating spray to use, along with a flying saucer device used to deter the
mosquitos. We sprayed the room, and 20 minutes later walked in to see most of them dead on the
ground, and the remaining few in a flat spin heading for the ground. After about 30 mins of hilarious
laughs, as Shivdas was asking for God's mercy, we got some great sleep.
Ayodhya
- day 6 feb. 21st Well, how can I write this to sound interesting and new. I can't. We were scheduled to
leave at 7:00 and left at 9:00. The trip was supposed to take us four hrs, it took us six. We were
supposed to be in ayodhya at 11:00, we showed up at 3:00. Wow! we're in Ayodhya! Can you believe it?
We're at an ashram that is about 200m from Hanuman Giri, the main temple, and the most important in
India. That's where guruji spent 2.5 years beginning in 1953. Everyday doing the Ramayan Paat. The
site of Shri Ram's birthplace is only a 5km walk. And here we sit on a wall, overlooking Ayodhya, writing,
scratching mosquito bites, and watching monkeys.
- Manu, our pal from chitracout, was attacked by a huskey monkey, probably the local leader, because he
was a foreigner. Poor guy was scared out of his mind. The he escaped, and we all chased him, or he
would have been killed. His leash was eventually caught on a nail on the roof, and Minaxidevi was there
to snatch him, she too was out her mind, aside from her usual I mean. The monkeys are fantasically
agile, I was walking along with a bunch of bananas and they just jumped me from behind and took off with
everything. At least I had my lukewarm 7up.
- our first destination of the evening was the Ram Janmabhoomi. We were stopped by the police at a
barracade. They close the road to the temple at 8:00pm and we arrived a bit late (surprised?) Instead,
we went to another one of the 5,000 temples in the city. Sat and sang Bhajans. Magnetic character of
Guruji. Took a tour of the upstairs museum of artifacsimilies. I saw lots of wierdos, and for some reason I
thought that some of them may have resented Guruji's presence, when we went up for the tour and there
was a blackout. My mind was racing and I wanted to pray that nothing would go wrong. I raced down the
steps and saw everything was teeck.
After the first Mandir we went to the Hanuman Giri. Guruji spent 2.5 years reciting the Ramayan
eveyday for Hanumanji. It took him 16 hrs./day. His other duty was to cook for 5-6 other swamis, then he
went to the roof where there was a lamp to read. As it turns out, I was at a disciple's home in Holland on
the way home, when Jyotiji pulled out the very book Guruji studied from. He gave it to her as a present.
When she opened it, a piece fell to the ground which I picked up, and Jyotiji said it was prasad from Guruji
to me. At Hunuman Giri, I saw where he studied, the spot he slept on in the corner of the large room.
Hanuman Giri was built on the spot where Bhagwan Ram offered Hanumanji Moksha. Hanumanji
declined and asked to be given one promise, to be alive until there is at least one person reciting Ram's
name. Hanuman has been here ever since. Could this be why the person doubting Morari Bapu was
disappointed.
- 1:18am 26th Feb. Twilight. Watching Shyam B. can be the funniest thing in the world. Like when he
wants to sleep, but is interrupted continually by others who are maybe, I don't know, singing, rather wailing
at the top of their lungs at 1:19am. His eyebrows go higher and higher with each song past his bedtime,
until his eyebrows are just below his cerebral cortex. Jeez!
- I was going to pick up some pictures I had to get developed at the Pinjore Photo Shop. I jumped on the
Ashram school bus, which had people hanging out as usual. I was doing this dash alone, because
Shivdas was too chicken (sensible) to jump onto the bus while it was moving. After the task was
complete, I walked back to the bus stop, hoping to get a ride back. I waited for a long while, and decided
to walk the 11 clicks. No more than two minutes later, I was greeted by Bobby and his friend as they
stopped on their scooter. Bobby was on the national highschool cricket team, and he is a tremendous
bowler. He asked if I was heading back the Ashram, and I was, and so were they, so they asked me if I
wanted a ride, and I did, so he said to get on, and I did, and we went to the Ashram, which is were I
wanted to go, and so did they. Riding three on a scooter, the first time I was on a scooter in India, was a
terrific feeling, no helmet you know. Which reminds me of hitching a ride on a homemade Rajendra jeep.
Which reminds me of the time we were coming back to Bhaiji's house after the program in Gyanpur, and
the bus ran out of gas. So, some people piled into a Tata Jeep, others waited for someone to decide to
go get more gas. Why would the Jeep not go for gas is beyond my comprehension. But I found two
people I recognized, who had stopped to see what was happening. They were also heading to Bhaiji's
home. I jumped on the back and we had a wonderful threesome for some miles, and then the driver
decided to stop. He told me and the other passenger to get off and walk the rest of the way, about 2
clicks, while he went back to get more people. So here I am, walking down a dirt road in the middle of
absolutely nowhere, and the moonlight was so brilliant, I didn't need to use my flashlight. But I grabbed
my Swiss, just for safety, even tough the man I was walking with was not even intimidating. I have never
felt my senses at such heights before, or since. The air was sweet, the light reflecting off the moon was
threw haunting shadows across the fields. All I could here was the sound of our shoes shuffling the gravel
on the road, and the whisp the earth as it spun in it's orbital dance.
The monkey from Chitrakoot, back seat of the bus. Morality clash.
Well water is comfortably warm. What is it with these designs though? must have 2 people or a bucket.
Y4 GOING SOUTH
- I just noticed how awstruck Pankaj was that I'm going to Madras by myself. He's never done this. He's
never been given the opportunity to see. I thank my parents and my country.
After the Yatra to Benares I felt pretty comfortable with uncomfortable situations. It was time to go south,
so I planned a bit from the "Rails at a Glance" by Indian Railways, and the Lonely Planet. I just jumped
into a 3 wheeler and shot off to the train station to book my ticket. There was a huge mess if I waited too
long, so I decided to go immediately. I booked the ticket for the following day, much to the dismay of the
family. I could not believe how ridiculous the service was at the foreign tourist booking office. There were
two terminals, and two clerks, but only one clerk was working at a time. The other clerk would of course
be on chai break.
Standing in the link of the train cars by the lavatories, the heavy steel door opened, I'd stand cautiously,
with both hand fixed on the bars and occasionally peep my head out. The wind felt like the air that comes
out of the oven when you are baking something and open it to check. Just below me, right beside the
train is a smear of ground. As I slowly lift my glance the earth slows to a blur. Rocks whizzing by, placing
me in a dizzying trance. Further outward, I can see the little villages cool in the mercy of the towering
coconut trees, which courageously do battle with the unrelenting sun. The homes are quite large
considering, probably made with some type of building blocks, then smoothed over with mud. The dry and
hardened mud is then whitewashed. The villages are scattered along in little clumps of coconut trees.
Are the villagers planting and protecting the trees, or are the trees already in clumps and the villagers go
to them for protection? The rest of the tress in India seem to grow in some kind of physical isolation from
the other trees, maybe these do too.
After bumbling along the track southbound for 42 hours we finally reached Madras. I stepped off the train
carrying my heavy baggage, and I knew that I was in trouble if I was going to walk for a long time. Next
time Shyam, remember, travel lighter! Grevise, my Australian acquaintance, and I were trudging along the
platform which seemed to go on for miles. When we left Delhi, I could have sworn that we were in a car
near the front of the train. Now, I think we were second to last on a train with over 100 cars! Then I
remembered that we had to back track a bit because I was told that there was a derailment in front of us
and the had to find an alternate route. Over the stretch of track from Delhi to Madras we switched to
overhead electric line and then back to using a diesel engine.
So I finally get to Madras after about 42 hours on the train that was more like a hospital. Grevice and I
stood at the open door for the last half hour watching our final approach. I grab my belongings and head
to the platform which proved to be the longest I had ever seen. And I was on the wrong end of it. I could
feel the heat begin to penetrate my flesh until I was perspiring heavily. There was a revolting stench in the
air that shrivlled my nostrils. Keep in mind that fish is a main component in the South Indian diet. Keep in
mind that, like all areas of India, there really isn't any planned sewage system. Keep in mind that in the
south it is considerably warmer than in the north. Now combine these ominous forces of doom and you
have a noxious gas that permeates the air and corrodes your tolerance for anything. After, I oriented my
head to Madras, I found where the tourist office was in the train station. I proceeded to book my day tour
of Madras with the very attractive clerk, and she spoke English very well too. As I stood at the TamilNadu
Tourism Development Corporation counter, paying for my tour, there was a remarkably friendly man
standing right beside me. I sort of figured he was a tout but I was not really preparing myself to be hit on.
I realized he was trying to arrange my entire schedule for Madras when he asked me where I was staying
and so on. Now I was pretty tired at this point, and rushed also, because the tour would start in one hour.
I needed to find a hotel, a shower, a meal and get back to the station in one hour, so of course the smart
thing to do was use his help. Wrong. He took me by rickshaw to his uncle's tour company, and for some
reason tried to talk me out of going on the TTDC tour and join him. When I laughed in his face and told
him he was crazy, he tried to talk me into taking his uncle's SUPER DELUX HIGHWAY COACH to
Banglore, I just told him I want to get to a hotel and get a shower, so he took me to one, took me back to
the train station for the tour, and took Rs.100!
The tour of Madras lasted the entire afternoon, bombing through the streets like Anna Salai, and
spending the majority of the time in the government emporiums and museums. At the end we went to the
waterside where I saw the clams fighting the waves to get back under the surface if the sand. The sun
was setting and there was a consistent breeze coming off the water, which firmly held several dozen box
kites in formation above the sand. There were ladies selling corn and other roasted vegetables, just as
one would find peanut vendors in the north.
The tour of Mahaballipuram
-the monument for the five pandava brothers
-the stupid idea of haggling with the locals selling their moonstones and soapstone carvings.
- the heat of the sand was melting the bottom of my sandals
-the shiva temples by the water where the salt was eroding them
-that's where conrad, the belgian artist decided to stay.
-watching the heat rise off the land and leaving everything parched and dry.
-Met Conrad the artist from Belgium who goes to India once a year to find inspiration for his work.
- met the nice family who dropped me off at the state transport bus stand at the end of the day, so I could
take the bus to Banglore. When I got back to Madras, I asked the nice man who had moved there from
England, how I could get to the Krishnamurti Foundation. He tells me unless I'm realLy `
- KANCHIPURAM
-Ekambareshwara, Indiana Jones, shot of light in dense darkness
- 500yr old Mango tree. Shiv marries Parvati
- fascinating south STYLE
- music
-just missed head shaving day.
- on that specific day only, the rays of light pass over the shoulder of the bull and on to the Murti.
- 3rd spot. Lizard of purity. 100 pillar tomb.
- The spot rajiv Gandhi was killed after honouring his mother.
- Madras City, big but clean compared to New Delhi. The only problem is the river that of course turned
into a sewer, Good God! Fish poo puree
- It's like the Indian Markham
- Wealthy, Healthy people
- Lots of technology
- every village has a medical research institute
- the university
- the girls
- highly educated people.
After the tour was finished I had to take a threewheeler from the drop-off point to my hotel. It was
rather unfortunate that I had to get a hotel so close to the "slums" of Madras. The threewheeler dropped
me off at the corner of the main street and an inroad street which he said would lead me to the hotel. So I
get off, give him the Rs.5 and make my way in, but not before I took out my swiss army knife. It didn't
bother me that it was dark, or even so much that I was in a really bad neighborhood. What really
frightened me was when I turned around the last corner to go to my hotel, it wasn't there. I was lost.
Remember that this was the first night on my tour. I retraced my steps to the main road and followed the
directions again. I ended up in the same place. At this point there was a group of guys hanging around at
a corner, laughing and acting very boisterously. They knew I was lost. Just as I was beginning to get
really scared I saw an old man standing in front of his shop. He was watching me intently. For some
reason I decided to trust this person, and went up to him for help. He looked at me coldly then just
pointed down a road before I could even ask him where the hotel was. I of course thought that he didn't
want me to speak to him, so I started to walk away from him, when he grunted and pointed down the road
again, but this time he added a little gesture of a right hand. Then I realized he was giving me directions.
I didn't even think to stop and thank him, or even question whether or not I was being led into further
trouble. I just got to my heels and scrambled in the direction shown to me. I found a little gully on the right
and passed through it, and there, to my relief, I found the little hotel. Once I got inside, I got to my room to
make sure everytihng was still there, chained to the bed. When I found myself back in the security of
myself, I suddenly realized that I hadn't had a bite to eat since the awful meal on the train early that
morning. I was famished and dehydrated. Now what. You don't expect to get room service in a joint like
this, so I became a bit creative. I went down to the front desk and asked the person behind the counter if
there was any one of those idlers would run down to the local whatever and pick me up some bananas
and a couple bottles of water. I handed over Rs.30 and he took off. Well, if he came back, that would be
wonderful, but I didn't mind risking Rs30, over risking my safety. He came back with a few of those itsy
bitsy bananas and two litres of the clear nectar. He handed me the bag of loot and to my utter
amazement, he gave me a handfull of crumpled notes in change. I gave him back the change and topped
it up with a Rs.10 note. He gave me an undeserving bow and walked away. Ithen went to the front desk
and asked if someone could knock on my door at 5:30am. I had to get to the tour office again for the tour
down to Tirupati and Mahaballipuram. The clerk at the desk told me that it would be their pleasure. So, I
went up, knowing that I need sleep, and prepared for bed.
- security chairs
- itchy blanket
- sleepless night
- listening to music, miss home
- hungry, no food
- 5:30 rolls around, everything is still dark
- 5:45 still dark, nobody shows up
- 6:00 packed and attempt to leave.
-getting lighter, still too dark to walk
-use minimag to illuminate passage
-huge German Sheppard sleeping in the hall, don't want to wake it.
-once again take out the knife and prepare to walk.
-wake up dog and give it a banana thinking it would keep it from breakfasting on my leg.
-doesn't take the banana, but I decide what the hell go for it, and -keep the knife ready
-people are sleeping on the floor everywhere
-get to the gate and there is nobody by the desk
-wake somebody up and he gets me the key and opens the gate
-I walk down the street and find a threewheeler who takes me to the tourist office.
-remember walking down the street when there was nobody around, sunrise in Madras.
Going to Banglore
- There wasn't going to be a train for about 36 hrs.
- decided against state buses when I saw the condition of them
- went for one of those many tour companies on a threewheeler accompanied by a tout.
- he took me to a place where there was one of those air-con super delux highway coaches. He asked for
Rs.100 which blew me away, I should have pounded the guy. I will remember the incident for the rest of
my life and swear it shall never happen again. I just feel sorry for the dude who tries that to me again.
- I thought I was going to die on that coach where there was a constant shrill of high-end blasting in my
head from the God awful movie flikering on the screen. No air-con, window seat with the exhaust pipe.
ear plugs.
- motu sprawled beside me.
-Madras interstate transit 25 paise for the reservation form
-ride back to the coach company
-tiff with the tout
-can't call home because no phone trunk
-Super Delux Video Coach!!!!!!!!!
-fat man sitting beside me
-Thought I was going to die
- I keep seeing in my daydreams the humbling temples of the South. Particularly the one that was so dark
on the inside, and has light penetrating the rock roof through cracks. It seems like something one would
find in a very authentic enactment of Indiana Jones.
Banglore
-arrive in Banglore at 6:25
-tour of Mysore
-visiting the palace of Tippoo
-Vrindaban Gardens
-this is where I met Chad and Fletch
-details of the trip are to follow
-short little tour guide
- arrive in Banglore at 6:25am. the tour to Mysore started at 6:30. I take a threewheeler from the bus
stand to the train station to purchase my ticket for the tour. Can you believe it, the bus is waiting outside
for me.
I met two guys on the tour bus from Banglore to Mysore. They had been travelling around the world and
had just finished working at the olympics and travelling through Afghanistan. Of course I listen to a
foreigner's accent before I approach them, and these guys were definitely from North America. I began to
chat with them and they were asking me questions trying to piece together what they could about this
strange country. We talked about the upkeep of the buildings and monuments of the country being a
direct reflection of the condition of the country, maybe the other way around. When we were going
through the zoo, all of us were completely disgusted by the way the animals were treated. The crying
elephant with the chains on his front and hind legs giving him the total of one meter to move, though he
was still trying to get free. And this is supposed to be one of the majestic and revered creatures in India.
I'm surprised they left his tusks on. Feeding time at the lions cages was breath taking. The cats were
definitely hungry, and the eldest male lion's eyes were glowing an emerald green with the refraction of the
light. The animal keepers came through with a wheelborough full of animal pieces, probably from a
buffalo (bhes) but just as dead as any other piece of meat. The beasts were given the meal through the
bars of the cage and immediately began chomping and salivating all over them, using their paws and the
cold concrete floor to keep their prize in place. Oh ya, before I forget; what's with all the crocodile and
snake parks? Along the tour, somewhere in Mysore, we had lunch, and that's when the discussions really
began to get interesting. We got out of the hot bus, walked through the heat of the sun towards and into a
cool restaurant that was not air conditioned, but had a mud and straw roof to keep the heat out, sort of like
a hut. We sat down and I could see that the guys were flustered with the Indian names. I tried to help
them out and we all enjoyed our meals. The table talk was mainly about the different books that we had
read about spirituality etc. The one guy had recommended Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. I sort of
chuckled and told him it was one of my favourites, then recommended Jonathan Livingston Seagull by
Richard Bach, which has the same sort of light hearted effect. He was astonished by this, and of course it
is to be expected, because his mother had given him the book when he was small. His name is Fletcher.
I was quite amused, and in this small world frame of mind, I also recommended the other books by
Richard Bach. I also told them about my growth through Robert M. Pirsig's work in Zen and the Art of
Motorcycle Maintenance and Lila. Both had said they had begun reading the first. Chad, the other guy,
had recommended The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra, and the movie Mindwalk, based on the book.
Then I recommended The Tao of Pooh. Through this amicable interchange I learned that Chad was
interested in researching Hinduism to draw some parallels to Buddhism. I gave him my opinion on the
parallels. Buddhism is the same as Hinduism in almost every way, primarily in surrendering the individual
self for the all pervading source. I'm not too sure about Buddhism, but Hinduism has undergone a
massive change in the last 300 years with the implementation of rituals and tradition. And in this light I
gave them the reference to Krishnamurti's work, and Fletcher expressed a desire to find "his own" religion.
Well, when I left them, they were going to Bombay, and then Nepal. I wonder if we will ever fly together.
Fletch Avery
8084 S. Syracuse St.,
Englewood, CO 80112
U.S.A.
EngLit Major
"own religion"
Chad Conover
801 Palm Trail #9
Delray Beach, FL 33483
U.S.A.
Humanities
researching Hinduism.
Then there was the British couple who were doing the whole tour for three months continuously. The man
had sacrificed his job at a printing shop to travel with his wife, but didn't like the job and wanted to get a
new one when he got back.
-arrive back in Banglore at 11:30pm and now its time to look for an air-conditioned hotel room. I figured I
wouldn't find anything near the train and bus station so I took a three wheeler to the MG Road area. I
found a few decently priced hotels but of course they were booked. I ended up staying the night in a really
nice hotel where the fee was Rs750. Thank god they did my wash.
-The most awesomest book stores, Motilal Bandassaris, and the other one where there was no room for
movement.
-HMV Banglore.
-MG road in Banglore is very nice, almost American style.
-The girls walking through the streets into the MALL! and the record shops. Definitely spoiled with a lot of
money.
-I walked into a computer programming business and asked if they could give me some prices. 14"SVGA
Rs17,000
-I Went into a small version of Kelsey's called the night watchman. To have something cold to drink. I
heard some good music coming from the speakers and decided to pop in, even though I was not dressed
very well. As soon as I sat down and ordered a drink, I was struck with a energetic sense of connection
with home. These are the exact words from my journal.
"Hi Kay, Now you won't believe what I'm going to tell you. I miss you a lot and I think of You quite
a bit, but I wanted to dance with you so badly once, it makes me want to cry. I went into a pub in
Banglore, my first time in India, on 031794. I sat down, ordered a drink and the place was quite nice. Sort
of a green Kelsey's. Anyways, the waiter poured me my drink (orange soft drink), and on the really good
sound system, so far the only one with real bass, comes Die Without You, and The End of the Road
(BTM). What could I do? I ordered some lunch and now I'll sit here, thinking and believing that you are
with me, even though you're on the other side of the planet."
"Banglore city market WOW! Again the concentration of like shops. I walked around and the
people were all but too friendly. Computer shop! Pricey!! (Duties). Cinemas, sidewalks, fleamarkets. At
the night watchman there were some really wired guys singing to Whitney Houston. Excellent food.
" Kanniyakumari 04653
Hotel Tamil Nadu (257)
city market was absolutely busy, but that seems pointless to note. There was a hint of something
different from the other big cities I've seen. I won;t call it order, but a lesser chance of something really
weird happening. It's not even a positive feeling, or negative, but just different."
"Spoiled kids everywhere. Nissan Maxima '93. There were definitely fewer coconut sellers in this
area. Interesting, the most healthy and beneficial drink just for peasants. Normal sidewalks VS. whatever
the hell you call that in the city market. Bumps, stones, upturned slabs of killer concrete, shit, piss, trash...
Spent a lot of money! Banglore-> Jr. Madras Nice experience. Good call not to go on the day trip of
Banglore. British girls! "
" Comfortable begin alone. Taking a Bath at Berry's after the few days in chaos. Imperial Book
Shop"
" On to Kanniyakumari. This is the first time I've been loaded in a long while. 2nd class, 3 tier for
almost 21 hours. Roaches the size of hamsters. Humid, Hard seat (bed) I may have been able to go 1st
or air-con 2nd, but I'd miss the experience. Bottom bunk, window, not too bad. Next morning I realized
that nothing was gone and I slept pretty well so read the rest of the way to Kanniyakumari. The day was
long and the sites were fantastic.
Parli, Bharatpuza, trivendrum, wadakancheri, Pukannam,
trichuririnjalakuda, chalakudy, alwaye, kottayam, ochira."
" Send Coins to
V. Anto Carter
s/o Varluvel
Uvari, 628658
Nalli Dist.
Tamil Nadu
South India (My pal at the S.T.D.\P.C.O.)
" In my 22 hour journey from Banglore to kanniyakumari, I had no timetable for the stops in
between, so I could not tell how far behind schedule we were. Upon my arrival at Kanniyakumari, I looked
at my watch, 3min 27 seconds late. From Kanniyakumari to Trivendrum the puke bus left to go through
the small side streets 2min early. Small miracles."
Kanniyakumari
- threewheelerwala tells me that The Hotel Tamil Nadu was full. (yah!)
- wonderful, air-con, view, nice.
-shower, then go to EAT!!
- ordered two dosas, oh, my rass!
- buying junk from the locals, bags, shells.
- get some shut eye, wake up just in time for sunrise,
- excrement on the rocks, but the beaches didn't have excrement, but sand hills.
- Vivekananda memorial, meditation room, aum, well kept, membership
- pack up and walk to bus stand, swaet, try to get to Trivendrum, then Kollam, No dice, too late.
- Come back and book room then check for train.
- NO TRAIN FOR A MONTH!! (you can imagine my fear)
- come back to the hotle to check out then go to the bus station.
- take bus to trivendrum (2.5 hrs.)
- vomit incident
- get to trivendrum, at train station, try to get ticket to Kollam, not for a month, to Bombay not for two days,
to Delhi next morning, hook me up, then the questions from the staiton master about getting VIP quota.
- Then finding a hotel, at the S.T.D., making calls, unable to get through to any hotel. Man suggests one
and I take it. Nice place, air-con, reading, chocolate cookies and coffee!!
- walking through Trivendrum
- Dosas, stationary shops
- Then, the next morning, the hell ride to Delhi. (54.5 hrs)
- I'm thinking, amybe I should have stopped off at some places. But then a lot of it is the same.
Y5 The last leg - coming home
- after Pankaj, Foi, and Deepti left me at the airport, my head filled with new, but not new news, I tried to
find a foreign exchange counter. Nuthin doin. So I clear my bags and I get in line not even thinking that I
haven't cleared customs yet. I wait in line and the agent taking the boarding passes tells me to back and
check through customs. I smile at my last blunder in red tape before I leave this wonderfully complex
country, and make my way to the customs. Now God has funny ways of doing things, and I wasn't even
surprised when I saw Jyotiji and Bhramritaji. Jyotiji was flying back to Canada, with Amit, and I realized I
was flying on the day my ticket was originally scheduled. We arrive in Holland and are picked up to
freshen up and a devotee's home, and have something to eat.
- Panorama
-Denon stereo
" Holland!!
Den Haag - Scaffanigen
mandir - size 6 steps
nice cars, good standar of living, the penetrating energy of the cold wind, peanut butter, you can
feel Europe here, Nice airport,
-giving the girl in Vrindaban two Coconuts
- the way the people smoke cigarettes. They make a fist, place the chigrette between the middle and ring
fingers, and then inhale from the hole between the thumb and the index.