I knew i had to leave today. This feeling has been growing inside for a few days. Restlessness. A prompting. At yoga this morning it felt like a fire in my bones. I could not stay. I woke up mid class, ran down to my room, packed a satchel with my tooth brush, soap and an extra change of clothes and left. I did not know where i was going, or how i was going to get there. I just had a strong desire to be close to the Ganges and to follow her close to the source.
I took a Rikshaw to the Rishikesh bus stand. The bus leaves every morning at 7:00am and 10:30 am to Uttarkashi. I learned this at the bus stop. I paid Rs155 and hopped on the bus for a 7 hour ride. There was a swami ji already on the bus. He looked a little dark and unwilling to socialize so i let him be. I had to wait an hour for the bus to leave and was getting hungry so i bought some bananas. They sell for Rs 30 for 12 in Rishikesh. I bought 6. I hopped back on the bus and gave the swami ji one. He smiled and accepted it.
A very friendly character hopped on the bus soon after. All smiles and laughter. Some sunshine in a dark place. :) Uma. She walks in with some fruit and sits in my seat at the front of the bus. She did not know it was my seat at the time. The bus tickets come marked. I learned later that nobody really ever follows the seating arrangements. Its usually a free for all. The bus started to move and i asked her if i could sit next to her. "Sure" she smiled.
Pleasant creature. Turns out that Uma has been in India for more than 2 years. French girl. Lawyer by profession. She was in India once before for some time. She then went back home, quit her practice and decided to stay in India indefinitely. What an interesting person she ended up being: So many wonderful stories she related. How well she got on with the locals at every bus stop; drinking chai, buying more fruits, sneaking in some delicious Indian sweets. She spoke the language so well and with so much respect. The local people that we would interact with at each stop simply adored her.
"Vishalin, if you open yourself up to India: If you give a little every day with all your heart, whether it is your time, your money or food to those here who are in need, India will give back to you a hundred times more than you could have ever dreamed." She said these words to me with such passion and conviction. I believed her. I have seen her with the children and with the street vendors, with the police officials and the restaurant owners. She made herself no different from the people that she related with. She gave herself completely. Like the incense that burns only to leave behind a fragrance. Her giving created so much joy, in her, in me, in those that received her. For that moment in time, she was Ganges, sitting next to me, walking with me, teaching me, playing with me, loving me, guiding me. Much love. Much laughter. So much generosity. We talked. We talked about the Ganges: Uma told me how the Ganges heals; how it had healed her externally and internally. She too, it seemed, had a mystical love affair with this amazing river. We talked about Reiki and healing. We talked about Love and the Longing, Radhe Shyam. We talked about Shiva and the Source, complete in the Self, unborn, without a second. We shared funny anecdotes. We laughed. We paused in magical silences. I learned so much this day. It made the bus ride seem too short. How lucky i am to have met someone like her.About an hour before Uttarkashi an elderly man who looked to be in his late 60's jumped on the bus carrying a heavy bag of sorts. He jumped on from a rural district and was heading to the city. I turned and caught his eye as he jumped on the bus. He looked at me and smiled. We kept each others gaze. A warm and familiar sentiment came over me. Many people entered and left the bus that day but no one grabbed my attention the way he did. There was nothing special or unique about him. He was a plain old man, he looked poor and the wrinkles around his soft, gentle eyes told stories of many a hardship and difficulty. He came over to the seat next to me and sat down, still keeping my gaze. I felt like i knew this man. He paid for his ticket, turned his gaze from me and looked down at the floor with some sadness in his eyes.
I wanted to connect with him. I wanted to reach out and establish something that may have been lost or broken or forgotten. I got up, quietly approached the fare collector and asked him to give the old man back his money as i would like to pay for his ticket. He did so and the old man looked up a little confused. I asked the fare collector, before he gave the man his money, not to say anything and he did not, but the clever old mans eyes scanned the bus, looking for me.
I sat down next to the fare collector at the back of the bus. I tried to hide my face but to no avail. He saw me, quickly realized what had happened and immediately a look of embarrassment seemed to come over his face. He was not comfortable with the money in his hands and he looked like he wanted to give it back to the one who placed it there. Not the fare collector, but me. I sat there in the back for half an hour, too shy to move back to my seat, also a little awkward about the situation.
He kept staring at me, trying to get my attention and i pretended not to notice. I later moved back to my seat, a long while after i saw him relax. As soon as i sat down he approached me, money in hand and gestured to me saying the word: "Beta." (A term of endearment meaning "son.") He smiled at me, a sad smile, shaking his head in a typical Indian fashion, pleading with me to take the money from him as if it was causing him great discomfort. Given another circumstance i would find the situation a little funny, if not weird, but this time it was none of that. It was awkward. A part of me wished that i had not done that. That i had disturbed the flow or the natural order of things and was causing confusion. At the same time this blunder seemed to have come from something deep and filled with so much of yearning. Something to connect. Something to show us that we truly belong. Sangachatvam. I politely refused the money and after two requests he put the money in his pocket and looked down at the floor again. Still with sadness in his composure. I felt the disconnect again. I felt the yearning again. We sat there for the rest of the trip in silence. Uma, drifting off to sleep from time to time and the old man in contemplation.
The bus finally stopped at Uttarkashi and all i wanted to do was ask the old man to come with me for some chai. I would let him pay. I wanted to give him the chance to contribute, to ease the discomfort that i may have caused. I knew from his gaze and his body language toward me that he wanted to. We jumped off at Rishikesh and the man came toward me. He spoke some words in Hindi and i could not hear his sentence in full. We were interrupted by the honking of a car horn and Uma came by taking me aside to talk. I turned to look for the old man but he was not there any more. I ran to find him but the streets were too crowded and it was impossible. I was left there again with nothing but the longing. Unfulfilled. Raadhe Shyaam.
