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Published: August 26th 2013
Nitin
An amazing guy. Here working in the free medical clinic. This guy gives all. “
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats …
. There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;” The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot “
If your life isn't holy your loneliness says that you've sinned” The Sisters of Mercy Leonard Cohen slip·per·y
adjective, slip·per·i·er, slip·per·i·est.
not to be depended on; fickle; shifty, tricky, or deceitful.
unstable or insecure, as conditions: a slippery situation.
a term to describe that which is self-deluding or cheating one's inner knowledge and logic; where one plays a situation with Lalita Ghat
Here I have gotten into the routine of daily swims with my friend Gopal (holding the pot). a response or action one knows to be not quite authentic or true
I woke up at 5am. I'd like to be able to sleep a little longer but I just don't. No pressure – always time for naps during the day. I meditate for about 40 minutes – its a good time to do it as the house and streets are quiet now. My Guest House is a family home and apart from Deepak and his wife Sanjana (heavily pregnant and looking like a blossoming lotus), various relatives and their children are staying.
The rooftop is lovely for doing hatha yoga – a sweet breeze is blowing in from the Ganga (which is visible and just a block away). I am joined by my three young chelas (students) aged 8, 6, and 3 who, amidst giggling and joking to themselves, try to copy my assanas.
I prepare my breakfast of fresh papaya, curd from Shyam's shop in Assi (Green Lassi Shop) – which has to
Lalita Ghat water line Feb 2012
This temple now completely submerged with small temples above service my Lalita Ghat visit experience. be the best curd in town, and some dried fruits and muesli.
Now is a good time to catch up on emails before having a shower and doing my washing. One important reason why its a good time is that internet connections actually work pretty well before 10am after which office India goes on-line.
The morning is now getting on slowly (its 6.30) but the great thing is how long the morning is. Nothing serious is opening in the market until 10 or later, although there are chai shops if I fancied an early stroll and chai. But I stay in my room and waste an hour answering emails and working on blogs.
I have a plan (always good to have a plan). Its becoming a daily plan (albeit totally flexible at any time). Its important to have a plan – or a structure – to just pass the day with a semblance of some purpose. The plan is what it is – however slippery! I am running too late now to go and have chai with Laloo and
Satish
Sitting in his chai shop - a master of chai and a noble man Norman (an 8am regualar happening at Laloo's). I lived at Laloo's place together with some Swiss friends for about a month in 1982. We were all getting into studying Indian classical music (some more seriously than others) when one of the Swiss friends had a bit of a breakdown and suicide attempt and I had to take him back to Switzerland. I never got back into that music path in Varanasi, but I did look Laloo up again when I returned here in 2009. Norman is from that era but I only really met him in 2010 – he is from the UK but lives a lot of the time in Varanasi and also rides an Royal Enfield (motorbike) around the country when he can.
I will walk through the market, and my plan begins to take form. Now which of my favourite chai shops will I patronise this morning? I have this mythological belief that its important to my chai shop 'friends' that I maintain patronage – what is that? Otherwise they won't like me? They'll go broke? Ha! The idea of 'friend' in India – all a bit slippery and constructed
Om Nama Shivaya Baba
I suspect this baba is quite wealthy - he is always dressed immaculately and it seems obvious he has a decent place to live. But he does like a free chai! around my need to think I have 'friends' and that I am liked. But some of the people here I have known for years – and among them I think I could say that maybe 2 or 3 would do anything for me (well.... come on Paul.... anything?). Those few are people I don't do any business with, which keeps it real.
One such person (well he is a saint really) is 32 year old Nitin. Nitin is just a amazingly generous socially responsible young man who is always involved in a myriad of projects helping disadvantaged people in Varanasi. He runs a toilet-size shop selling this and that in his 'spare' time. His main other job right now is working as a health worker in a free clinic that a local doctor has set up which operates 6 days a week from about 9am till 12. I pass the clinic on my way to the market and buy Nitin and his 2 co-workers a chai. The clinic has about 6 patients lined up for attention to minor wounds (all of which can become toxic if not treated in this environment).
Kahinya housboat at Ranamahal Ghat
Looking out from the only approach now. Amazing to think that last time I walked amidst the temples and steps that are now submerged at least 10 metres below. The houseboat is a constant party for the idle boat wallahs - playing cards, cooking, smoking, drinking. Another exclusive men's club in India! Its just after 9 now. On the way through there is a sweet shop run by Vishnu who I met in 2010. I buy four of my favourite sweetmeats to have in my bag ready to give some unsuspecting 'friend' as a random act of kindness (such generosity!!).
I choose to have a chai at Balu's. I would call him an 'aquaintance', but most of all he makes bloody good chai. And watching him throw the used tea leaves across the street and ALWAYS have them land in the same tight corner of the drain is a sight to appreciate – skill born of daily practice.
At Manoge's fruit stand, I present Manoge with my sweets. I choose a small papaya and ask him to save it for me for when I return on my way back to my room.
Ah, my plan which has become a common plan – is to make it to Lalita Ghat by about 10.30 to meet Gopal, a 59 year old milk wallah who spends a couple of
hours there every day taking a Ganga (Ganges River) bath, meditating, doing some hatha yoga, and performing his puja (prayers and offerings). The Ghat is very peaceful with small temples inhabited by a priest and his chela. About 10 meters underwater now, due to the swollen flooding Ganga, is the most gorgeous little temple that can only be seen from a boat during the winter months when the Ganga has receded.
After some vigorous swimming against the very strong current, I sit plus do some assanas with Gopal under the shade of a tree overhanging the ghat.
On the way back to the main market, I visit Satish in his chai shop in the middle of the fruit and vegetable market which is right on the route taken by the funeral marches to the burning ghat. 'Nama Ram Sacta He' is the chant as another body is carried through ('there is no other name than that of Rama'😉. Satish is a chai yogi – to watch him as he prepares the best chai I know is to watch pure form and mindfulness in motion. He serves
Rama Guru
Ahilya Bai Ghat. Nov 2011. First met him Dec 1980. Died Mar 2013. His chai was not always great but what a location! his chai in clean small white porcelain cups (nice touch!).
The question now is where to have lunch. I am careful about a regular and well balanced diet but I tend to only have one main full meal in a day – breakfast as described and otherwise a smaller snack – but lunch or very late lunch is usually an Indian tali or similar. There is a great Nepalese restaurant which does a scrumptious tali for 40 rupees (and although I don't have the appetite to pig out, its one of those talis where if you want extra dahl or sabje or rice, you just ask for it). So its what I do again today. A bit slippery eating alone – and if I were hit with an option to eat with someone I'd take it up if I could muster the confidence to ask them, but no such opportunity has arisen after a week here.
I walk back through the market and greet Mahindra at his small music store. He invites me in and I get to play one of his better guitars that are
Rana mahal and Ahilya Bai ghats
So at the left is where Kaniya's house boat is parked - the small white dome at centre left border of the pic is completely submergerd. The steps at the left of the picture (also submerged) is where Rama Guru ran his chai shop for at least the last 33 years (when I first met him). on sale. I travel with my electronic tuner, capo, and a pick for just such occasions. There are a regular couple of young Japanese girls getting tabla and djembe lessons from Mahindra. So we play together for a bit and have a lemon chai.
On the way back to my room it starts to rain – heavily – but its just a 10 minute shower. Its lovely as it cools everything down. I am talking to myself as I walk (hm.... I have noticed I do a lot of talking to myself these days – a bit slippery that!). And the streets themselves are very slippery with cowshit mixed with fresh rain. My score after a week in Varanasi is two slips (but no falls) and three treading in cowpats. All part of being in this wonderful but very dirty city. However, it is believed that cowshit is quite sterile – and of course it is used all over India to make cowpats that are sundried for cooking fuel.
Sometimes things happen and afterwards you are left thinking “did I dream that or what?”. Carolina and
Wedding prep outside my room door
My room is the door in the middle of the pic! I had befriended a baba on the ghats in November 2011. This man was either insane or enlightened with a pure mind. He would sit for hours each morning simply clapping his hands, big smile on his face, chanting “Om nama Shivaya” (great is the name of Shiva – praise him). Making my way back to my room after lunch, I chanced upon this baba. We chatted in broken hindi for a minute and I gave him 10 rupees for a couple of cups of chai. He had just passed a French guy who seemed to be engaged with a not too impoverished looking bunch of small kids. This guy sees me give the money to the baba and starts to give me a strong lecture about how I should be only giving money to the children – the greatest and real need (having misinterpreted my gesture to an old 'friend' as misdirected charity). I tried to explain that the baba was someone I knew and had not seen for 18 months – but the Frenchman was having none of it. So I pointed to his amazingly huge and expensive Canon camera and said “go and sell this and then
YOU give that money to these kids OK?”. I don't think he got it. Slippery guy!
But what is more interesting is my own reactions to these sorts of confrontations around the giving of money to people in India. Obviously I, like everyone, am unresolved about my amazing wealth amongst the constant 'in your face' relative poverty. I have often said to people in the West that what India teaches you (among many things) is that you are kidding yourself if you believe you are a generous person – so get over it. You happen to be born into privilege being a Westerner, making you extremely rich and free in India. If you gave everything away (and then qualified as a totally generous person) you would only add yourself to the poor of India. If you don't, then you need to realise your position in this world, accept it, and let it go. Nonetheless it is a great pastime deciding how to give some of your money away. Anyway, its all a bit slippery!
I run into Saisi who is a clothes shop owner in the
market. We have had many good conversations about life the universe and everything – I like his sense of existential acceptance of the light and dark. I have not done business with him, just been a 'friend'. On this occasion he is talking to a Swiss couple and he invites them to dinner at his house that night. As I leave, I observe my reaction to never having been so invited to dinner by Saisi. I am a little indignant and disappointed. Perhaps its just because I am not doing business with him? Paranoia? Or another reality about the slipperiness of 'friendship' in India? Whatever. I let it pass.
I get back to my room, take a shower and nap – needed and great – for about 20 minutes before setting out again.
Kahinya is a quite well known boatman in Varanasi – known for his strength mostly. He won several boat races they have between the two bridges of the city. He is a simple man, and quite alert to 'friendships' with a select few amidst the pretty impersonal high end of the tourist trade
Ghats Nov 2011
See brown building middle left - water now covers the lower third of that building! whereby he makes his money. He owns several rowboats, one motor boat and manages one houseboat. Despite his simplicity, never having much cash at hand, smoking way too much ganga, and now also into whiskey, you'd have to say he was asset rich.
I have his address still from a time I had been in Varanasi and invited on a picnic by boat across the river with a dozen Varanasi 'gentlemen', and I later sent him some photographs by mail. With the river so high, its impossible to walk the ghats (where I would usually just find him). So I spend about an hour trying to decipher the amazingly illogical street numbering system of old Varanasi.
Eventually I find his friend who leads me to Ranamahal Ghat where the houseboat is moored as a kind of all day (and night?) floating men's club for monsoonal unemployed boat wallahs. Its a joyous reunification and I am quickly feeling at home as I ditch my pants and shirt and apply my gumpcha as a lungi and sit comfortably in the Ganga breeze. I am invited to stay for freshly netted fish which have drifted down from the mountains. They are cooked to perfection on the boat together with thick chapatis and rice. Perhaps the least slippery event of the day? I'll see how it pans out over the next week. I am invited to spend the night but can't quite picture it so I decide to go back to the Guest House.
It is then too that I learn from Kahinya that Rama Guru died about 5 months ago. Rama was a chai wallah parked on the steps next to the Ganga at Ahilya Bai Ghat back when I first came to this city in December 1980 and used to spend a lot of time at the ghats swimming and washing and taking it all in. When I returned to Varanasi after a 28 year absence, Rama Guru was still parked in that very spot serving chai! Will he be missed? I don't know if it works like that in India. His daughter will take over the business once the water recedes.
On the way back, I buy a small sweet lassi and 100 grams of dahi (curd) from Shyam's shop at Assi Ghat.Then one last lemon tea at Kashi Cafe before heading to bed (which I do by around 10 pm).
Only small problem is that there is a wedding the next day next to my Guest House – friends of Deepak and Rajana – so they are availing the area right outside my room to the preparation of sweetmeats for the event – a rather noising undertaking which keeps me awake until 12.30. What to do?
I am still standing (well before I went to bed that is) and thinking about my place in the world, despite all the slipperiness!
There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;” The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock T.S. Eliot “
If your life isn't holy your loneliness says that you've sinned” The Sisters of Mercy Leonard Cohen slip·per·y
adjective, slip·per·i·er, slip·per·i·est.
not to be depended on; fickle; shifty, tricky, or deceitful.
unstable or insecure, as conditions: a slippery situation.
a term to describe that which is self-deluding or cheating one's inner knowledge and logic; where one plays a situation with a response or action one knows to be not quite authentic to true
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Sarita
non-member comment
Karma teaches you not to plan
I am glad you have a plan Paul (though slippery), difficult for your plan to work in India as Karma teaches us not to plan but to wait in anticipation for things to happen?? Loved reading it gives me a taste of Varanasi.......