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In December 2006, I embarked on the most extraordinary
journey of my life to date. In one swoop, I quit my time consuming stressful
corporate job, packed my bags and headed to India. I had been teaching yoga
part- time for over a year and dabbled in the idea of leaving the corporate
world far too many times. So finally a decision was made. A decision based on
surrendering to something that was calling from the very depths of my soul- a
calling that probably came from my childhood.
As an Indian growing up in the Western world I had never
really lived and immersed myself in Mother India. I was always fascinated with
her, always stepped onto her soil but never long enough to fully experience
her.
I wanted desperately to go to Rishikesh mainly because I had
heard so many stories from my family and close friends who had been. I was not
looking for enlightenment, on the contrary, I was looking to seek out the ‘Yoga
Capital’ of India and to try and understand why everyone I had spoken to about
this place was mesmerized by it.
My journey began from Delhi where I caught the Shitabi
Express (not so express) to Haridwar. What I was told, and what I encountered
was completely different. I was told I would be taking a train where I would be
able to lie down and relax, where it would be smooth sailing from start to
finish. Naivety, as it turned out, is ever present with me in India. I should
have known not to have had any expectations, for as a practitioner in the
science of Yoga, this is what I am constantly trying not to do.
Delhi train station was in itself complete chaos, but with
the help of a friend I was able to find my name amongst sheets and sheets of
paper stuck up on a flimsy board with my carriage and seat number.
I jumped on board with a massive suitcase (I had just come
from 1st world comfort and a 2 week -long Indian Wedding) and tried
desperately to stuff it somewhere inconspicuous so as not to look out of place.
After settling into my seat, I was ready for what I was told would be a five-
hour journey.
The thing about Indian trains is that there is no peace and
quiet. Regardless of the fact that I clearly look Indian, it was apparent to
those sitting around me that I really was NOT Indian. Not least one that has
lived there. I was just as alien to them as a young Swedish lady a few seats in
front of me with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. And so began the question
and answer game. Not for five hours as I thought, but for seven hours with
three very different Indian men.
Upon arriving at Haridwar I searched for a coolie (porter)
to help me with my bags. These men are fascinating – able hold 30kg straight
onto their heads without so much as blinking. My mission was to get a taxi from
there to Luxman Jhula in Rishikesh. But I didn’t want to seem like a foreign
tourist and so in my broken Hindi started to ask where I could get such
transportation. As I scouted for a taxi, I found a Sikh driver. As a woman
traveling alone I knew finding a Sikh driver would be the safest option as they
are renowned for being honest. I also knew I would have something in common. I
am from the Sindhi cast and we too, also believe in Guru Nanik, the First Sikh
Saint. I established this commonality with him as soon as I sat in the taxi and
as a consequence of such, I immediately felt safe.
The drive to Laxman Jhula was forty-five minutes. A rather
tranquil ride, with little traffic and winding roads. At this point I was
extremely tired but filled with anticipation. The air was crisp, clean and
cool. A complete contrast from Delhi. Refreshing and calming.
Once at the Laxman Jhula bridge, there was another 10 minute
walk to get to the hotel where I was staying. With the help of another coolie,
I arrived safely to my hotel. At last, Rishikesh! The Capital of Yoga!
As the day broke I woke to the sound of Aarti on the banks
of the Ganges. There was indeed something powerful about this place, profoundly
powerful. And all of this was
happening just as I was opening my eyes.
As I walked across the Laxman Jhula Bridge my first obstacle
was a large cow. Blocking the entire bridge - blocking both ends and backing up
scooter and pedestrian traffic at least 200 metres. I could not stop laughing
for this was a typical scene in Rishikesh – a typical scene throughout most of
India. The cow is scared and it was evident that there was nothing we could
really do but wait until it decided to move sideways to let us all pass.
Patience therefore, is highly recommended and is to be taken in the highest
possible dosage.
But as I crossed the bridge, for the first time in broad
daylight, my breath was completely taken away. My eyes welled with tears of
joy. I was above our Mother- the sacred Ganges. As a Hindu it has always been a
longing for me to dip in the Ganges and to be blessed by her. And to see her for
the first time, in all her glory, as the sun beat down making her sparkle and
inviting me to do so, I could not contain myself any longer. I had to make it
down to the bank. To dunk my head in three times, and to finally announce
myself as a ‘true’ Hindu.
I was told that bathing in the Ganges up here was perfectly
fine as opposed to in Varanasi where bodies are cremated and dropped in. I did
not think much of it other than the fact that I would be freezing cold. So off
we went. Down to the banks where I psyched myself up to get in. Not as easy as
I thought. Amongst the group of friends that I had met up there, I was the last
one in. What I can I say, I am not good in cold weather and I blame this on
that fact that I am Indian blooded. But it was joyful, refreshing and extremely
COLD!
As I continued to explore Rishikesh daily, crossing the
Ganges from Laxman Jhula to Ram Jhula, taking in the ashrams, the ambience and
all the power it possessed I was starting to become more and more taken in by
this intoxicating place. That was until I became very ill. I still don’t know
what it was. Perhaps I ate something wrong, perhaps a little water got into my
food or perhaps it was that magical dunk in the Ganges. Whatever it was I was
so sick to the point where I was forced to analyze why I was in a place so far
from home, on a quest to discover the magic behind it, and what my purpose was
on earth. Everything seemed to spiral and then come to a halt. I was ill to the
point where the hum of the fan on my bedroom ceiling was the only thing helping
to keep me conscious. It was almost as if something was making me purge. Making
me purge all the gunk that has built up in my mind and ultimately my body over
the years.
I do not know how I came out of it. As dramatic as it was I
managed to remain un-dramatic throughout. Something that I believe now only
comes with touching the soil of this place. It was almost as if that dunk in
the Ganges purged me of all the useless things my mind would think about. For
in those moments of being so sick, it was only the important things that came
to mind. The people that touched my life, the people in India, my family and
all that made me – ME.
Rishikesh has so much to offer. Rolling mountains all along
the banks of the river, stunning views, a lot of asana, meditation up in the
hills, beautiful trekking routes and the sound of Aarti at dawn and dusk.
Heading to the banks for Aarti at sunset was a daily activity for me and in my
first moment, I knew why so many people came here and why so many continue to
come. There is an energy about the place that is indescribable and upon
thinking about it and as I continued to witness the magic around me, I began to
understand why. Meditation is a powerful thing and the vibrations in Rishikesh
of so many people, meditating, surrendering and devoting themselves in one
place, projects itself straight to the heart of those that arrive. And as so
many people continue to come- for whatever reason, the powerful purity
continues to grow. Even with the floods of Indian and Foreign tourists, even
amongst all the bargain priced malas, postcards sellers, tainted Babas and
hippy travelers, Rishikesh remains pure because of one thing; The coming
together of people - souls, that are seeking something that is bigger than
ourselves.
And if all else fails to feel this, I can say first hand
that a little dunk in the Ganges will turn anyone 180 degrees around, to seeing
what I saw and felt.
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