Day of Diwali - Our friends on the roof of kashi guesthouse invited us onboard the boat they rented for the evening.
There was to be a celebration and all of varnasian friends told us through mouths full of paan (chewing tobacco), that a boat out on the ganges would be great idea for this evening.
"very big celebration. Lots of lights."
I had heard it all before and didn't take much thought but agreed to go- excited for an adventure.
Like a trail of gypsy ants we filed out down the narrow stairwell, past the yapping dog tied up in the foyer, and out the tiny door frame (that aaron invariably catches his guitar on when ducking underneath)- and out to the cracked, filth coated, cobblestone streets. A stray dog has her puppies right there among the trash and breaks my heart every day I walk out the door. They still nurse on her swollen nipples as goats, cows, bulls, monkeys and buffalo march up and down- oh- and the occasional person too.
We navigated our way to the ghat. Smoke billowed up to our right into the night sky from several cremations currently in progress.
The cremation procession that goes on 24 hours a day follows the small stones through the town (past blue lassi- our favorite place in the city) and spits out the bodies and families at the burning ghats. Everyone chants together the whole way down the path carrying the dead body high above their heads together "nama rama satya hai" over and over- if you ask someone what it means they say "god is truth" or "the name of
God is true"...
At the true God procession's end, we found colorful saris smashed together at the edge of the Ganges this night.
Tiny candles in impossibly perfect rows created sacred shapes all up and down the ghats. (something that must have taken hours or else vast manpower to set up).
Breathtaken and caught in this ethereal moment of beauty I heard nothing and felt nothing - floating in the beauty of it all... In utter peace staring at the twinkling ghat... until very quickly i was yanked out of the moment as the giant explosion of an M80 exploded next to my face. I felt the heat and the smoke stung my eyes and I went deaf in my left ear.
After a moment of being completely stunned, I shook it off as best i could and crawled on the little wooden canoe boat - there were 14 of us in all- the South Indian host Surinder, Simone, his German vacation girlfriend and trumpet extraordinaire (she's def a younglover)... Some Dutch and French friends, Aaron, Danny, and I... And of course the yogis.
The Belarus yogi dudes splashed the body riddled filthy sacred Ganges water on themselves and flicked it back on us in the canoe too.
I was moderately horrified until I caught a glimpse between our boat and the ghats _ the shadow of a small boy rowing what looked like a gandola in Venice Italy.
The black outline of his body and long paddle glided across the backdrops of ancient, majestic, holy buildings lined with lights, people wading through the beauty of this city.
The image went "chh-chhk." and took a mental snapshot that I will carry with me forever.
I stopped caring that the Ganges water was on my face.
I was so moved by the moment.... Again.
We continued to float down and then back up the river pregnant with boats, people and little floating candles- holding prayers, blessings, dreams. Kind of like the temple at burning man, that we burn at the end of the week... Offering our prayers up in the smoke.
Varanasi has a lot of that energy.
On the other side of the river there was a neon lightshow that made all three of us convinced we were on the playa.
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24 hrs later- back on the roof.
Our last night in Shiva's city.
We spent the morning doing a sunrise boatride on the Ganges. (pronounced Ganga apparently)... Went to our friend raj's family's house and got a lassi.
After eating Malai Kafta on the roof I lay back and though how much I wish Babu and the whole of Kashi's guesthouse would just come with us to Rhishikesh.
I was being inspired.
I realized I want inspiration to follow me- like a procession down the streets of varanasi. I find that I want to run to the new and even though time has proved that I will always find inspiration wherever I go, I feel an urge like i want to drag the past along with me.
Why?
For fear of being uninspired? (no... Never)
It must be attachment.
The thought of bringing this world with me to the next destination is not only crazy bit kind of selfish. I would imagine that tearing them away from what they want- to come be uprooted and follow.
I think I just want the world to see what I see... Taste what I taste... Be where I am.
I forget to just Be. Here. Now.
...share when I can and let people be... I can always go explore their "now" too.
It's both people and experiences I become attached to.
Before I finally called it a night and went down to my little cement room, my German Goddess girlfriend and International Younglover taught me some German and we called my Dad. Mein Papa!... We got to talk for a little until my phone ran out of credit (for a change)
I really really love these kashi friends! We lay around on the roof and made music as per the usual... Until finally when it was already too late - I listened to Simone jam out one last song in German before calling it, tearing myself away and sleeping for a few hours.
I woke up to Aaron knocking on my door waking me up for the sunrise boat adventure.
We staggered down the alleyways we have become totally accustomed to at this point and wove to the burning ghats. I got speared in the ribs by a headbutting bull who was eating trash and obviously unimpressed with our coming through his hood.
Rude.
On the boat as the light was returning to the sky, we watched from out in the Ganges as the Varanasi locals were on the ghats praying and beating their clothes in the river, bathing, ringing bells, chanting, burning bodies and practicing yoga in the ones they still had...
Danny flip-videoed Aaron and I singing a song the three of us had co-collaborated on to create the night before.
It's called
"I'll meet you in Calcutta this September. (the Ganges)"
It was cool watching the morning ritual on the river we were singing about.
We spent the afternoon wandering, bumping into old friends, making news ones, hanging at blue lassi playing tunes. (the last day of our residency there)
We picked up train tickets that would be taking us away from Varanasi and to rhishikesh.
I felt the sickness.
The wave of deafening frustration.
It sounds like veruka from Charlie and the chocolate factory
"but daddy!!!! I don't WANT this to end!"
I know what Jack Keroac means when he says the mad ones are "desirous of everything."
Thats me.
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I slept to the sound of chanting... Incessantly playing through speakers for 24 straight hours.
Again, we woke up early.
I shuffled down the hall to the shared bathroom with no mirror to brush my teeth.
Then we bid adios to Varanasi and crawled through the city and traffic to find an autorikshaw that would drive us to the Varanasi junction
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I walked back up, squeezing into our nook in the sleeper class on our rhishikesh bound train.
Danny & Aaron were peering up over their books waiting to see my face.
"wow. We just said how it would be a funny story if zani wasn't on the train."
Nah. I made it.
A guy had tapped me on the shoulder as I danced around the platform, pretending like i was a gymnast on a balance beam while talking on my mobile to Shayno who was at Jakarta airport waiting to get to Singapore.
I crawled over the guitar case and bag littered nook in the sleeper class that would ours for the next 20 hours or so...
Danny said he imagined that I was on my phone to Shayno dancing around the platform totally oblivious that the train had started moving.
Weird.
I was.
Exactly.
One week and he already knows me well. I like it. Danny is awesome.
Born and grew up in orange county, California, he finished college at UC santa barbara and joined the Israeli army.
I am so impressed with that.
Last night we sat on the rooftop and drew a tattoo for Danny - a Ganesha made out of sacred symbols.
(a star of David, an OM, the word LOVE with a peace sign in the O like many of our tribe in venice and around the world have)
It's weird how much time I have been spending thinking and talking about Venice and back home. In august, my best friend Jessica and I travelled Indonesia and Thailand together and then after that I spent two weeks with my soul sisters Laura and Cary in Bali and South Thailand, and we really didn't talk about California all that much.
But Aaron & Danny had just been to burning man before coming to India so I think the flavor of that consciousness and group of love beings still lingered on them.
We definitely look the part, I realized earlier as we walked down the steps of the Varanasi Train Station to find the train I almost missed.
We all three have baggy, floaty, fabricy pants on and haven't showered in a few days. Our flip flopped feet are blackened and we smile and sing all the time.
Burners.
I can't wait for Mikey, my Scotish Buddhism camp buddy joins our troup.
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We slept like champs and arrived at 4:30am in Hardiwar. We got chais in the dark and tuk-tuk'd to our new guesthouse up in highgate.
Aaron and I wrote a song while Danny slept and now it's time to explore!!
Rhishikesh- hold on to your samosas. We are here to love ya.
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