Ghandi Writes About Rishikesh...

"I was charmed with the natural scenery about Hrishikesh and the Lakshman Jhula, and bowed my head in reverence to our ancestors for their sense of the beautiful in Nature and for their foresight in investing beautiful manifestations of Nature with a religious significance.

But, the way in which men were using their beauty spots was far from giving me peace... people dirtied the roads and the fair banks of the Ganges. They did not even hesitate to desecrate the sacred water of the Ganges. It filled me with agony to see people performing natural functions on the thoroughfares and riverbanks, when they could easily have gone a little farther away from public haunts. Lakshman Jhula was, I saw, nothing but an iron suspension bridge over the Ganges... the iron bridge is entirely out of place in such surroundings and mars their beauty.

The Svargashram which one reaches after crossing the bridge was a wretched place, being nothing but a number of shabby-looking sheds of galvanized iron sheets... [The aspirants] who were in the main building gave one an unfavorable impression."
- Ghandi, 1915

I went to the Ganga View Cafe again for breakfast this morning, and no joke - the same guy, the same discourse about Shiva's urine! (This time for a different woman, who sounded maybe to be Israeli or perhaps European.)

I think Ghandi did this town justice with his description, but if only he could see it now in this age of plastic! Yikes! The photo above is of one of the unofficial riverside dumps.

Travel Update: Getting Out of Here!

"Drink it! Just drink it!" the young American with dreadlocks exclaims with great enthusiasm. He is sharing his wisdom with a young European woman over breakfast at the Ganga View Cafe, Rishikesh. What's he talking about? Urine, of course!

"Shiva gave a discourse to OUR BODIES," he continues. "Shiva... GOD... is talking to OUR BODIES... telling us that this is very secret knowledge... it's like a magical elixir... our bodies make a MAGICAL ELIXIR!" The discussion continues for a good ten minutes as he expounds on all the wonderful benefits of drinking your own urine and how secret and magical this knowledge is, until finally the honest question is posed to him: "Do you do it?"
"No... 'cause I smoke."
"Why is that?" the innocent European woman responds...
"Smoking's got all sorts of poisons. Otherwise, I'd drink it everyday!" He answers.

Welcome to Rishikesh. I won't even try to argue the logical insanity of his discourse, but I'll leave it for you all to muse over.

I leave the cafe, and while passing by the numerous cows who graze in the streets and alleyways, I come to the jeep station. Here, jeeps cram full of Hindu families to take them up into the mountains to visit some holy Hindu sight (forgive me for not knowing which one.) As the jeeps speed off, there is often one or two older women in the back vomiting or preparing to vomit from motion sickness - the price paid for a trip for God. No one seems to care.

I keep walking, and I see a woman in tears, blood running from her nose, holding a baby in her left arm. The blood is gushing too, not just a couple drops. Her husband holds the other baby in his arm and makes weak attempts to cheer her up - so weak that I suspect perhaps he has played some role in causing this bloody nose. But, that's just speculation. Whatever is going on... again, no one seems to care.

Welcome, again, to Rishikesh. And, this is one of the nicer towns in India! It's actually quite pretty to look out over the Ganges, through the swarms of flies, or walk across the pedestrian bridges. It's probably about 100 degrees in the daytime here, which adds to the pungent rotting fumes in the alleyways.

The good news - I'm getting out of here! Not to say that Rishikesh doesn't have some charm. The Beatles Ashram is pretty cool, and there are some nice tourist conveniences like Italian restaurants and German bakeries. And, it's not to say that the challenge of India really confronts one's concepts of the way things "should" be. But, I'm gladly accepting that it's time to move on.

I was planning to stay in India until the end of my visa in June, but given the circumstances with my grandfather, I will be heading back to the US in a few days.

Ghandi has this to say:

I have found by experience that man makes his plans to be often upset by God, but, at the same time, where the ultimate goal is the search of truth, no matter how a man's plans are frustrated, the issue is never injurious and often better than expected.
- M.K. Ghandi

So, here are my tentative travel plans:
- Rishikesh to Delhi May 16th
- Delhi to Bangkok overnight May 16-17
- Bangkok for two days (oh, curry and mangoes!)
- Bangkok to San Francisco May 19
- San Francisco to Berlin, Massachusetts (And return to SF) May 28 - May 31

After that, the door is open for God to frustrate me further, though of course, my plan is to continue to pursue my meditation practice as priority number one.

For My Grandfather

As I stood in the bookstore, holding "The Devotional Poems of Mirabai," I flipped through another couple pages when my eyes landed on this poem:

Whatever thou seest twixt earth and sky
Will perish.
...
Take no pride in the body,
It will soon be mingling with the dust.
This life is like the sporting of sparrows,
It will end with the onset of night.

- Mirabai

It seems that Mirabai was singing to me again. Earlier that day, I had discovered that on May 5th, my grandfather Russell Hawkins passed away. He reached the impressive age of 95, and was well loved. I feel grateful for having him in my life.

So, Grandfather, I chose another Mirabai verse to share with you now. Please enjoy...

Go to that impenetrable realm

That Death himself trembles to look upon.

There plays the fountain of love

With swans sporting on its waters.

- Mirabai

My family has organized a gathering in memorial of my grandfather and also in honor of the passing of his generation on my mom's side of the family. Many friends and family will attend, and yes... so will I. In 9 days, I will be on an airplane back to the US!

More on my travel plans soon, but for now:

"Annica!" (things change)

With Love,

Daniel

Mirabai Sings For Me

I started this journey with a longing for simplicity: sit, breathe, and be present from moment to moment throughout the day. I really wasn't looking to replace the clutter of busy San Francisco life with the clutter of India's spiritual scene - more gurus, more techniques, more fast tracks to Enlightenment. In fact, I was a little resistant to come to India for this reason, and I was admittedly resistant to the world of Hinduism, Babas, and Swamis.

I walked into the English language bookstore yesterday near the Lakshman Jula Bridge, and after a couple of minutes of just looking at all the books, I thought to myself: "Wow, human beings really like to write stuff!" - more gurus, more catchy titles, more books books books. What was I doing here?

Well, a certain Hindu saint has been helping to melt my hardened resistance, and her name is Mirabai. She was part of the Bhakti (devotional) renaissance of India in the 15th and 16th centuries. I found a book of her poems in the corner of the store and soon discovered why I was in the bookstore.

I read the following poem and thought that it was the perfect description of the last couple months of my life (although maybe exaggerated a bit with poetic license). She has saved me the trouble of finding words and now she sings to me...

O ye saints and holy men,
I have seen the world and it's ways
I left brothers and relatives
And all I possessed.
Dispensing with worldly shame,
I came to sit with the holy men.
I felt joy in the company of the devotees,
On beholding the world I wept.
I planted the creeper of love
And watered it with my tears.
I churned the curds
And drew forth the ghee:
The butter-milk I rejected.
The King sent me a cup of poison,
I drank it down with joy.
Mira's love has set in deeply,
She accepts whatever comes.

I must give credit to Open Dharma for softening me to the joy of a truly "open" dharma. During the 40 day Sat Tal retreat, they read from Mirabai, Khabir, the Yoga Vashisht, as well as many other non-Indian saints and sages. I'm now enjoying all the diversity of these teachers as music against the backdrop of a still present simplicity.

I'll quickly give some of the meaning of this poem for me, even though I could just let the meaning stand on it's own for you. Here goes...

"ye saints and holy men" - All of you out there reading this
"I left relatives" - yup
"I came to sit with the holy men." - Wonderful teachers I've been blessed to meet so far!
"the company of the devotees," - oh, such lovely friends too!
"On beholding the world I wept." - Free Tibet!
"watered it with my tears." - Not many tears on this recent retreat (except maybe day 29)
"I churned the curds" - Meditation
"the ghee" - Wisdom
"The butter-milk" - The more-than-enoughness of life.
"The King sent me a cup of poison," - The 'gifts' of the world, like stepping in cow shit or the smell of burning plastic.
"I drank it down with joy." - Oh, India!
"Mira's love has set in deeply," - Post-retreat bliss
"She accepts whatever comes." - Oh, India!

And, coincidentally, right now, in the internet cafe, they are playing a really funny song that the teachers decided to play at the completion of the 40 day retreat, the lyrics shout out enthusiastically: All Izz Well!
Here it is, enjoy~