Wandering the Earth. Varanasi has been a serious journey. Perfect to follow up after visiting Bodhgaya and the place of Buddha's awakening. Varanasi is the awakening fast track.
It seams that I am settled in here. That means I must move on. Don't want to loose my ability to be the only coconut (that's my new name "the coconut" because the kids think, well you get it, my cabeza is a freaking coconut) at train stations and buying tickets and going to 17 different only to manage to miss my train anyway; jostling through autorickshaw row exiting any bus or train stop; getting used to the new scams in a new place. It's all good. Frustrating as all frack...but good.
I've been patiently waiting for the mountains and now I am going to inject the mountains into my being. I leave Sunday to Delhi. Then spend the night at the airport - hopefully security is down with that. On Monday fly to Dehra Dun's Jolly Grant Airport. It's the bestest name ever for an airport in the Himilaya foothills?
The plan is to explore some of Dehra Dun, Mussoorie, Rishikesh, Rajaji National Park, Corbett Tiger Preserve, and Haridwar. The final step is the Shatabdi Express from Haridwar to Delhi. Explore Delhi a few days then fly to the USA.
You know in Pulp Fiction when Vincent is talking to Jules about going to Amsterdam. He says, roughly paraphrased, "it's the small things that are different." "For instance?" "Well, they like their fries with mayonaise. They drown them in that shit." "Yuk." "And when you go into (was it a movie theatre?) they serve you beer. And I don't mean no beer in a paper cup. I mean a beer in a glass."
India has no small things that are different.
I'm looking forward to the mountains. Small things indeed? India has to do everything in superlatives. USA has 14ers (feet). Uttarakhand has the "lower" 7,000 meter Himalayan peaks - especially well-known is Nanda Devi (7816m) - ok, so it's not a lower 7,000m peak, it's an exception, an "outlier." What? What?
Cheers, love, peace, Target beer to all.
ps - thank you all for any and all comments. Those are much appreciated links back to my friends and family. That is another constant topic of Indian discussion - importance of family and friends. So thanks you wankers! Ciao.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Burning is Learning
I have no pictures for this. Only mental images. Only what I can paint divided by 1,000 words. Varanasi is a place to become lost, yet strangely you find out about what you "think" (which is another construction), what you own, what you did with your life, whatever karma, sins, goodness, job, loving, hating.
I've seen at least three dozen human body cremations. It's just supposed to be carbon and water, but it makes what we are and how we live and breathe and communicate. Then your physical body ceases to live. It's wrapped in cloth, dipped in the holy Ganga (not misspelled), wood is carefully weighed out, a fire that's been burning continuously for thousands of years is used to light the individual pyre. All you are goes to smoke and ash. It's open for the public to view. Tourists alike can stop to gaze, gander, pray, whatever motivates them.
Last night, and the night is the most spiritually tidal and head clearing, yet surreal. The fires are set against the dark ghats - Manikarnika is particularly smoke-stained black. I spoke to an Indian gentleman for about two hours. At first I was all porcupine-hair raised waiting for the rupee-vortex to form. It never did. We spoke about this 4,000 year old Hindu tradition taking place at select places on the Ganga. I was able to contrast that with our Western traditions of death and burial/cremation. I can't go into all the details because I was transfixed by the scene and the mere conversation taking place by an Indian Hindu who was there cremating his grandfather. Not once did he express the usual grief we do. I had complete emptiness - a good, cleansing emptiness - that after all I've seen in India, here in Varanasi, with death (and death is curiously never mentioned), this is finally the Incredible India that I thought existed. Just some small town somewhat isolated from major population centers. There is no Taj Mahal here. No Ajanta rock carvings. Just watching the reality of flesh burn away and the remainder of the big bones, the pelvis, sometimes the ribs, are placed into the Ganga.
I have heard from one vendor that when he can't sleep, he wanders to the main burning ghat and meditates for a time. Then worries vaporize and perspective shift - it's called "Burning is Learning."
I've seen at least three dozen human body cremations. It's just supposed to be carbon and water, but it makes what we are and how we live and breathe and communicate. Then your physical body ceases to live. It's wrapped in cloth, dipped in the holy Ganga (not misspelled), wood is carefully weighed out, a fire that's been burning continuously for thousands of years is used to light the individual pyre. All you are goes to smoke and ash. It's open for the public to view. Tourists alike can stop to gaze, gander, pray, whatever motivates them.
Last night, and the night is the most spiritually tidal and head clearing, yet surreal. The fires are set against the dark ghats - Manikarnika is particularly smoke-stained black. I spoke to an Indian gentleman for about two hours. At first I was all porcupine-hair raised waiting for the rupee-vortex to form. It never did. We spoke about this 4,000 year old Hindu tradition taking place at select places on the Ganga. I was able to contrast that with our Western traditions of death and burial/cremation. I can't go into all the details because I was transfixed by the scene and the mere conversation taking place by an Indian Hindu who was there cremating his grandfather. Not once did he express the usual grief we do. I had complete emptiness - a good, cleansing emptiness - that after all I've seen in India, here in Varanasi, with death (and death is curiously never mentioned), this is finally the Incredible India that I thought existed. Just some small town somewhat isolated from major population centers. There is no Taj Mahal here. No Ajanta rock carvings. Just watching the reality of flesh burn away and the remainder of the big bones, the pelvis, sometimes the ribs, are placed into the Ganga.
I have heard from one vendor that when he can't sleep, he wanders to the main burning ghat and meditates for a time. Then worries vaporize and perspective shift - it's called "Burning is Learning."
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