A Day in the Life...

I woke up around 6:30AM. I was already an hour late for the morning Kriya Yoga session (which I hadn't attended since I arrived anyway) at my ashram, so I figured I'd just lay in my stiff wooden-with-a-one-inch-mattress-bed for a bit more. The marble floors and walls of my small room were very cold, having been chilled from the nighttime air and the lack of internal heating in the building made everywhere outside of the pile of woolen blankets I had draped over myself cold. After dozing for a bit more, I checked my watch and noticed it was close to 7:30AM. I got out of bed, put my toe-socks on (not a toe-spot for each toe, but oriental style toe socks separating the big toe from the rest of the toes so that sandals can be worn) and wrapped my chattar around me to retain as much heat as possible before going outside. I walked out the main ashram building, put my sandals on, and walked over to the smaller kitchen building. Greeted the Indian cook, got myself a mug and pour myself some fresh chai. It was delightful and warm, sitting in the chilly kitchen room. I moseyed around for another hour until breakfast, and ate a nice small dish. Afterward, I walked down Laxman Juhl road to the internet cafe and chatted with friends back home on Facebook for about an hour--a total of 20 rupees...or 40 cents. As the sun was beginning to peak over the top of the Himalayan foothills which surrounded the little valley Rishikesh town, I began my trek to discover the lost Maharishi Ashram. When The Beatles traveled to India in the 60s, they stayed at the Ashram. However, since then, it's been shut down and closed to public access since someone was caught growing drugs there (go figure). It's apparently been neglected and run down. There's a guard there, but some local Indians informed me that if you give him ten or fifteen rupees, he'll let you in. As I started walking across the suspension bridge across The Ganges River, I could feel the sun beginning to seep into my bones and warm me. I continued walking past the town in the direction which someone had informed me--not entirely sure where I was going. I kept walking and walking and walking. Now I was definitely outside of the town with nothing but Himalayan woods and hills around me. The road was desolate and only one or two Indians walked along the road with me. I kept asking them "Maharishi Ashram?" and pointing down the road and they would respond in Hindi, which I assumed as being a confirming "yes." The road began to get steeper and the climb more difficult. I turned off the main road onto a smaller gravel pedestrian pathway. It was even steeper and no one was in sight--only monkeys. I'd look up in the hills and imagine that a tiger would be creeping along the crest of the mountains. I passed a sign, in the other direction that I was walking, that read "End Elefhant Zone: Be Careful." Looking to the side of the road, I saw a group of peacocks quickly running away into the deep of the woods. I kept climbing, hoping to finally arrive at the mysterious Ashram. Finally, after a nearly vertical climb, I arrived at a small concrete building with a man selling water. I asked "Maharishi Ashram?" and he responded "Siva temple." I looked at him puzzlingly. "No Maharisih?" "No. Maharishi Ramjoohla" he said pointing back in the direction I had came. Ramjoohla was a landmark I knew and it was far away, nearly back where I had started. I sighed and started walking back.

Once I had returned to the main road from the pedestrian path, two student-aged Indians on a motorcycle whizzed by with silly smiles on their faces waving and saying "HI" to the foreign white kid (me). I returned their wave and they sped off. Soon, however, they came back and stopped in front of me. "Where you from?" "US," I answered. "Do you want a lift?" My face lit up. "Yes!" They smiled and I hopped onto the back of the motorcycle. I felt like the scene in Darjeeling Limited (cliche' yes), riding 3-people on a motorcycle through India. The boys were very inquisitive of me, what I did in the US and why I had come to India. "Why not?" I responded and they laughed. Eventually they dropped me off at Laxman Juhla. I was tried from the walk to the mistaken Siva Temple, so I decided to go out walking again the next day in search of the Ashram. That's India for you. You may not get where you wanted to go, but I did find a small Siva Temple, which I doubt many westerners have visited, I had a pleasant walk through Himalayan woods and I got to hitch a ride on a motorcycle with some Indian students.

Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da,
Dylan