Team Ashram

So I write one.

Been an interesting few days.

Yesterday I spent a nice day wandering around the ashram (community place of yoga, meditation and discipline) that the Beatles spent a while finding themselves in during the late sixties. It was rather sweet and involved an interesting walk along the River Ganga watching people bathing themselves and giving pooja (throwing flowers into the river for a donation).

The river is beautiful and so varied. In Laxman Jhula, where we stay, the river is calm and shallow and it is possible to bathe. Further along, just a kilometre or so it becomes much wider and areas of shallow water are marked with huge rocks. In these areas the water moves rapidly and you don't see so many dudes making the plunge.

The Beatles ashram (as it is now known) is a huge complex of small dome-shaped stone huts surrounded by overgrown greenery. For some reason the ashram has closed and the place has gone to ruin. We saw just one man there who seemed to be a gardener or something and who tried to make us leave. Giving him just ten rupees each we were able to secure a peaceful day wandering around and singing Beatles songs in a place which inspired many of the songs on the White Album. Then a guy with a trumpet appeared so we focused on Sgt Peppers. And then a guy I met in Pushkar who played guitar also arrived. So we played on. It was quite surreal but rather lovely.

We discussed whether we preferred the fact that it is overgrown to it being transformed into a tourist trap. There is clearly something to be said for climbing over a barbed-wire fence with a sign saying 'No Entry' on it. We were able to use our imaginations. Perhaps John Lennon took a slash in this bush. Maybe Paul secretly received a blowjob from Mia Farrow's sister which inspired/blackmailed him into writing Dear Prudence.

We decided it was probably for the best. No one wants to see a throng of tourists clutching leaflets about how George Harrison found himself while they blare out muzak versions of Mother Nature's Son. It's a good song, for a start.

Last night I had an interesting conversation with a blind guy in the dhaba next door to my guesthouse. I was in there eating a thali which consists of 4 chapati, rice, dal, two veg curries, salad and curd (curd with sugar makes a nice dessert) and all for twenty rupees. It is basically the best value Indian meal. Twenty rupees is about thirty pence and that meal fills you up, providing enough nutrients and vitamins to keep you going. It is full power to the extreme. My vegetarianism continues unabashed. As does being sober. There is no alcohol or meat in Rishikesh. Well, I'm sure there is but you would have to go looking and pay a lot for it. And frankly it's not worth it.

Anyway, the blind dude. He is called Radhiji and a few nights ago he introduced himself to myself, Josh and an American friend, Brian (Bryan?). It seems that each night he makes his way to this dhaba for a thali and each night he will sit beside a foreigner or two and have a chat. The first time we met him he asked us if we were free that night. Being sociable creatures, naturally we weren't free - we had a cafe full of Israeli chicks to play Pink Floyd covers to. One can't go a day without at least some honey going all gooey eyed over you. I'm talking about me. Josh can handle it.

He asked if it were possible for us to escort him to the police station. We looked at each other and made faces of, you know, why not? (a luxury he can never afford as he always wears sunglasses. And is blind). We walked him a little way to the police station where he needed to get a form completed, and then walked him back. On the way back he asked if we were now free to help him on the internet. More looks were exchanged. How badly did I need to feel the glow of desire from some exotic beauty? Quite badly it seemed. But Josh, being a reformed Christian, agreed to help him out. He spent about an hour on the computer reading and replying to emails for him. Which is nice act of charity I suppose.

And last night as I sat in the dhaba, nursing my thali and a confused soul he was escorted to my table. I was naturally concerned that he might make more demands upon my time. God forbid I actually have to do something for someone else on my trip. What a bore.

But no, we started chatting. And within minutes I had begun telling him all about the woman who makes me want to get myself checked out by a doctor.

He was very good at listening and we talked for a while, and when I asked him what he did with his time, he said he provides a 'personal audience'. He's a fucking counselor! He talks to people and offers advice and reads people's emails and responds with kind words of encouragement. And it seems that the only way he continues to do his good work is through using other people's time to help him with emails etc.

Seemed like a nice cycle of benevolence. I think next time I see him I'll help him out...

Today was spent true India style. I have often felt like things have been a little bit too easy so far. Everything I've wanted/needed has always been close to hand - it comes from having been in touristy areas. Today however, I wanted a guitar string. So the entire day was spent finding one. The entire day. This is more like it. True satisfaction from the most simple achievement. It involved a walk around Laxman Jhula to make quite sure that there weren't any here. Then a walk, then a rickshaw for five kilometres to the centre of Rishikesh. Then a walk up and down the main street asking for the music shop. Then once we found what we think was the music shop, we discover it's sunday and the owner clearly has something to do on a sunday. So we ask again - turns out there is another shop. So we look for it. And we find it. And yes the guy does have what we want. And yes I found a string and we celebrated by eating a masala dosa.

Tomorrow. I think I get a massage. It'll be a lot easier.