haridwar & rishikesh

i was glad to get off that train... it had been a long, hot and tetchy trip to haridwar. i was greeted with a big statue of shiva in the station forecourt, a reminder that haridwar was a big pilgrim destination and one of the 4 holy sites of the kumbh mela gatherings.

i found the bus station and got the bus to rishikesh, yoga capital of the world. from there, i got to the road leading up to the jhulas. all the rickshaws were going to ram jhula, and from there, i got another to laxman jhula. the hotel where yanti told me she’d be staying was full, and so i just stayed at the top of the steps leading to the bridge. i checked my mail and i got an email from her which said that she was now staying at the ganga niwas. i looked high and low, literally, trying to find it... ganga hotel, ganga guest house, ganga this, ganga that, but no-one had heard of the ganga niwas.

i had crossed the bridge and looked for somewhere else to stay, but i had no luck with this either. every place was full. then a girl comes up to me and asks me if i am looking for somewhere to stay. she had seen me before at one of the ashrams asking for a room. she and her fellow israeli friend led me to a place: ” i stayed there last night... it’s pretty small, but cheap...”, she explained. i was glad for her help. it was a small room alright, but it would do for me. near the river, right in the heart of laxman jhula.

the next morning, i walked around a bit and without looking for it, i found the ganga niwas. typical! unfortunately, yanti was out, so i wandered about, soaking up the atmosphere of this holy place, and got my bearings. i enjoyed watching the monkeys getting up to their tricks at the start of the bridge, and watching the hordes of pilgrims and tourists crossing the bridge over the holy ganga river.

and then from nowhere, yanti greets me. we talk about our respective trips since paradise beach. maike was in jaipur buying stones and stuff, and yanti had come back to rishikesh to say goodbye to it and india before their trip to nepal. we took a walk to the river and having bought some incense and candle lamp and flowers, she gave blessings to the holy river and took a dip in its freezing cold water. the ganga has the ability to purify you of all sins, it is said. i preferred to stay dry on this occasion. she told me of prem baba, a holy man giving satsangs at his ashram on the opposite bank near the jhula. she had been one time and was not impressed. we met her friends and played some music on the sand of the river bank, watching a constant stream of kayakers and rafters drifting past.

one day, i walked up the road following the river upstream. i wanted to see the waterfalls along the way. i stopped at the first and then continued to find the second. it was a bit of a trek, i had been told, and was looking to hitch anything going my way. a moped passed me on one occasion and i shouted after it. it stopped and i asked the driver if he could give me a lift. he was from poland and took me on. he told me he was going up to neelkanth mahadev temple, the sacred site where lord shiva drank the poison in hindu mythology. i decided to go with him.

when we got there, we waited in line to visit the holy place in the temple where the priests were sat guarding the symbolic lingam where the pilgrims would pour the milk and offer flowers as a blessing. the priests would then plant an orange trident tikka on the foreheads of the visitors ( back in rishikesh, i could easily recognise who had been to neelkanth from this tikka mark). we went further up to see another two temples, and were told about a baba living in a cave. at the top of the hill, we were told the baba’s cave was a further 2 or 3 kms along the way. we decided that the baba was not worth the walk. “he probably doesn’t speak english in any case”. the guy we had asked directions asserted otherwise, but still we turned around and took a tea at the chai shop instead.

we rode back down the windy road to rishikesh and i thanked him for taking me up to neelkanth. i met yanti later and we had dinner at the hilltop hotel restaurant, scene also of a nightly jam session. yanti began to play her bajans and soon we were joined by other diners.

another time, i had walked the path down to swarg ashram at ram jhula, another busy hub of a place where a lot of temples and ashrams were located. i sat soaking up the atmosphere in the gardens of one ashram. walking back from ram jhula, i saw three young western women coming out from a side road. there was nothing special about this as there were many westerners here in rishikesh, but something made my eye rest on the middle one of the trio. even so, it was just a fleeting glance and i stood watching the ganga.

and as i turned back round, this woman had turned from her friends and come back towards me. “i know you”, she said. a familiar phrase, and i looked at her intently but i couldn’t place her. i felt a little embarrassed. she was speaking in spanish now: “yes, i know you from spain, i slept in your tent one time, we walked around this community together... maybe around 5 years ago”. now normally i don’t really forget anyone who had slept in my tent, even if it was 5 years ago... but still i could not place her. she had mentioned alicante but for sure i had never pitched my tent anywhere there. as i was grasping at memories, it suddenly came back to me. “charlotte?”, i asked. yes, it was. the spanish had thrown me, as well as the alicante thing. “yes, now i remember. you are french, no? we met in beneficio... not alicante. and we ate that rice and pulpo meal the first night in the eucalyptus forest.... when we borrowed some rice from our neighbour in the forest...”. yes, it was all coming back to me now. her friends came to join her and she explained who i was. we talked a little more and i invited them to the hilltop hotel jam night that evening. and then they were gone.

walking back, i contemplated this latest coincidence of meeting an old acquaintance. it was happening to me on a fairly regular basis, and always, always, it was the other person who would recognize me first. it seems that my appearance hasn’t changed that much over the years.

the purple dhaba turned out to be my restaurant of choice... they did a mean special thali with tandoori rotis and shahi paneer. special!! time came for yanti to take her train connection to varanasi and meet back up with maike. i accompanied her to the station with her huge backpack in the tempo rickshaw.

we survived the bumpy squashed-up ride to haridwar, and dropped off her pack and guitar at a hotel’s left luggage place after the train station’s office refused to take responsibility for an unlocked and unlockable backpack. we took a bicycle rickshaw to the river bank and straight away, a trio of young street kids began begging from yanti. yanti gave them some of the snacks she was eating, but they were persistent for more. we managed to lose them and got to the place where the evening aarti was being performed. lots of people were gathered there, placing their small lamps and flowers and other offerings into the ganga waters.

we found a cheap dhaba near the station to have dinner... amazing tandoori rotis again... and then to the station. we found her carriage and berth, and it looked like she would have pleasant travelling companions. i left and got the bus back to rishikesh and back to my little room in laxman jhula.

i had a stress-free time to book my onward ticket to varanasi;  however, the guys would have left for their trip to pokhara by the time i would be in varanasi. i saw nata one time when i was sitting at the top of the steps overlooking the bridge, checking out the cheeky monkeys waiting for food from the tourists. she was going to prem baba’s place. i decided to go with her but there was no satsang that day... instead, there was a guest speaker giving lavish praise to prem and vice versa. 99% of the devotees sat in the hall were westerners, i imagined, looking around at all the white faces there. however, like yanti, i got no special vibe from the man or the place. maybe i was not open enough.

i told nata that i was leaving for varanasi that evening, and she agreed to walk down to ram jhula with me. as i waited for her on the street, someone else recognised me. “weren’t you at the estonian ting gathering?”, he asked me. yes, i was. “you’re tom, right?” it was. we chatted a bit before nata came back. nata and i took the path to ram jhula and we hung out at one of the ghats there.

nata and i had met at one of the jam sessions – she was in rishikesh taking a yoga course - she wanted to be a yoga teacher, but she was not certain whether to carry on travelling or return to russia. i gave her the wisdom of my experience on the road. she was also on her way to nepal and it was possible that we could meet up again there as it was on my itinerary too. it was a pleasant evening and i left rishikesh with a warm feeling in my heart.