Oh yeah, this is New Age

Rishikesh.
The very heart and soul of India's yoga studying, meditation realization, Ayurvedic massage, satsang rejoicing, ashram visiting, and general OM-ing. And the Indians have the Western mindset accurately and precisely pegged. I am impressed with their industriousness and ability to survive in an area where otherwise there might be little more than a few ghats near a bend in the River Ganga.

And for some clarification: Ganga is the RIVER and Ganja, well, you smoke it. Bang is what your tire does when it pops. Bhang is what makes your mind pop when you drink it. Both are probably best avoided as India provides quite enough mind-altering experience. I think I might otherwise go insane and float down the River Ganga after drinking a big Bhang Lassi while smoking Ganja - all the way to the Bay of Bengal.

OK - I will preface this by saying a few things. First, I try to have an open mind for the experience. Just be. Absorb the place. The people. The sights and sounds. The beautiful river. Tons of Europeans, Aussies, Israelis, Japanese and Chinese (to clarify Asian) partaking in spiritual and holistic modalities of self-improvement. I agree and live part of this life myself. That is when I'm not partaking of eating meat, such murder, but such delicious murder. Oh, and my Scotch. Why does the world of OM have to exclude the highest food group from holistic ways? Vegetables are good. I like vegetables. I eat vegetables. Tasty. Yum. But cows eat vegetables. Cows digest vegetables. We eat cows. Therefore, we eat concentrated vegetables. And there would be fewer cow pies on the street to slip, trip, and fall. Fewer health hazards as we yogis and yoginis exit our yoga classes, barely able to stand on wobbly legs. "Oh, these legs? Yeah, I think those are my legs." Although I kinda like that set of legs over there better...

So I'm staying at this Omkarananda Ganga Sadan guest house. Yes, my first ashram stay! NO! It's actually only a guest house that's attached to an ashram - so the rules are a bit relaxed. No shoes, no alcohol (except the 14-yr single-malt I smuggled in), no meat, generally be nice, and the Iyengar class is totally full - all week - so sorry about all your problems:) Hey, the rooms are nice, the two bathrooms are shared amongst the Sadan floor dwellers. Ok, dig.

Details, details, details days later. I take a few Ashtanga yoga classes. Mornings have felt this good very rarely. It's like an internal Himalaya. Beautiful recharge.

Then here is the second part of my observation: A growing, gnawing, what Angelica (at Cafe Madrid) calls "Angry Matt" starts to emerge. The New Age trinkets for sale are overbearing. Shivas. Ganeshas. Natarajas. Buddhas. OM Hare Hare music. OM Shivaya music. Bells. Singing bowls. Who knows what else. Stuff. Motorbikes going 40 kph across the FOOTbridge honking their presence - and fuckall if you don't move out of the way. So I basically started cussing at the BDLDMFs and waving my arms at their heads. Slowed 'em a bit. Made me feel better. I don't think I slept for 3 nights due to the crazy roar outside my window each night. Yelling. Coughing. Singing. Autorickshaws. Trucks. Honking. Hot in my room. Open the window. Dust in my mouth.

I'm filling my Cipro bottle with single-malt just to calm my nerves. Prescription bottle. Just changed the contents.

Now here's the rub: Perhaps this place, this Rishikesh, this place that is the New Age heart and soul of India is the heart and soul. It's just how you deal with it because this is what it is, this is not something else. Buddha meditated for 6 years before enlightenment. I use this example only because of proximity. We go to great lengths to sit and neither think, nor not think. To not have thoughts, push thoughts away, pull thoughts toward. The Rishikesh that was outside of my window, with all the judgements, the trinkets, the chaos, there was also a mirror out there.

Well, the chaos was out there.