I was happy with my time in Hardwar, but one night was definitely enough. I was tempted to stay another night just to have an air-conditioned room and a TV but that would have been silly. Since I haven’t been staying in places for as long as I had originally planned, I found that I have a lot of time. What to do with this time. I kept going through my guidebook trying to make a revised itinerary, what else can I fit, what do I want to see, where do I want to go? A few days ago when I was in Mcleodganj I had that realization as well and was looking into flying to the Andaman Islands, it would have been $350 but totally worth it for a perfect beach. However the Monsoon just started there and so that was out of the question. Then I had that note the French journalist left me with the name of the peaceful ashram she recommended. I looked it up and called.
I thought to myself I’ll go for a couple of days, if I like it I stay more if I don’t I leave. It was a bit out of the way and I ended up walking about 2 kilometers with my bag but I found it. This was definitely off the beaten track. The ashram is adjacent to a couple of other ashrams, is in a nice spot by the Ganga. I walked through the gate and under a trellis with vines growing on it into a courtyard. the walls have a pink hue and on one side is a shaded area with columns. A little boy directs me to a woman sitting there. Her name is Mataji, translating into something like “respectable mother.” A very sweet German woman in her seventies who has been in India since her twenties. She lived with a sadu (a holy man) in the woods for 10 years and when he died nine years ago she, along with her three children with him, built this ashram. The place is very serene, felt like a hideaway, a retreat. There is an Indian family that lives here and takes care of the property. It is not so nice and not so simple. Beyond the courtyard is a little garden, not the prettiest but nice, with a little temple in the corner dedicated to her husband. There is a gate in the back of the garden that leads to a little path over a creek that leads to the woods on the banks of the river. Compared to the noise pollution one gets used to in India after 10 days, this place is very quiet. I hear nothing but birds, cows, and chip monks. I like it here. I think this is what I needed, a break from the chaos outside and a place to just be chill and pull away, let go of whatever it is I am holding on to that was taking a toll on me.
Mataji gave me some juice they made from a tree on the property and showed me a room. It was a simple little room, like a cell with the bathroom adjacent. There is a hammock right outside under a hut-like roof.
There are a few people staying here. There is also one of Mataji’s daughters who helps run the place. Most of the people staying here are women. There is a white guy, I think American, in full costume (white turban, white vest, white wrap on the bottom, beads around his neck, beads around his elbow. He doesn’t talk, ignored me when I said hi and stays in his room all day (which has no bed). I guess he is working on something. There was another guy, a German “oh, your name is Mohamed, there aren’t many Mohameds in India, I’m just surprised..” the guy was weird, gave me a bad vibe. He had that dark grey stuff around his teeth. And walked around with a pack of cigarettes. He seemed not to like me very much, I can immediately tell he was thrown off by my presence. To me it was funny looking at this German guy sitting there clearly having trouble wrapping his head around a guy like me (he assumes he knows everything about me by my first name) and what I’m doing there in a kind of Hindu spiritual retreat. He was sitting and right above him is a swastika, the Hindu variety. But I couldn’t help and be entertained by the juxtaposition. I mean couldn’t this guy just shut up and give me a chance before making all these presumptions? I guess I was doing the same but only in reaction to the negativity I got from him. Eek.
Then I met Raven, an American girl living in Rishikesh with her teacher learning the harmonium, the instrument I saw at the Golden Temple (the Piano/Accordion combination). She was nice, we chatted for a long time. She also lived in Brooklyn so we hit it off. After I rested in my room for sometime I wanted to go check out the river and she was on her way there with a bag of flowers. She was very connected to the river and its healing potential, etc. I really liked her so I was trying not be so resistant to this kind of talk. We went, she started putting the flowers into the river. Then she started to walk in it. The current was fast. She seemed to have a moment, a connection with something. I felt again like an intruder so I walked away. When I came back she was totally submerged in the water, fully clothed.
We talked a lot about many things. Life back in New York, life in India. But we were always on two different sides on some things. I don’t know if she was aware of this but I was. She would say: being in India has been transforming for her, that her skin feels different. (I’m thinking its just the humidity) she would say that her intuition is stronger. (I’m thinking its because it is so chaotic that one has to sharpen their intuition to respond to their surroundings, I mean you need a good intuition just to do simple things like crossing the street). I felt like a classic atheist, for the first time. But I never thought of myself as such. I guess this is part of the self discovery thing this trip is supposed to be about. But really? Is that what I came here for? Why am I here, in India, in this ashram? Why am I not in a gay bar picking up guys for random meaningless encounters to satisfy some animalistic urge or to feel better about my manhood. I guess I had to remind myself of why I came, what was I running from? What am I trying to get over? Why are all these people here?
The bell sounds to announce dinner time. The food is served on a tin plates. There is a dinning room where people site on the floor around the perimeter and food is served in front of them. The food is simple, almost bland, like monastic food, but it was still good. There is chanting before eating, people are really into this, I felt like a tourist. I’m just watching, not really participating. I mean, I do the rituals, the steps, I pause with everyone, I eat slowly, but I’m so aware of everyone around me. It was interesting.
Things get even more interesting when after dinner there is a “prayer to the divine.” wanting to be part of the group and not single myself out, I participate. But I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was told in the beginning that I don’t have to do anything, but participation is welcomed. So hey, its my first night, let me try it all. They had laminated sheets with the prayer transliterated into Latin letters from Sanskrit to read with the translation on the other side. I tried to keep up but some of those words had 20 syllables. I was getting sweaty and the mosquitoes were hovering. The main part of the prayer took place around the temple in the garden. There was a lot of repetition, sitting, and standing. Finally everyone, one by one goes up to the steps of the shrine, kneels and offers a flower to the saint, chimes the bell, then walks around the back of the shrine. I went last, it was very awkward for me as I was really just doing the steps. Everyone was so into it. When it was over I headed to my room and listened to music, wondering what a certain someone is doing now. I recounted the day and fell asleep.
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