Chapter 5
The looms of
The breeze blew gently, yet steadily; caressing Tom’s bare skin, while he watched the silent drama unfolding below...as life awoke on the
The seamless nature of existence on the
“Thwap, Thwap, Thwap,” the rhythm of the clothes washers slapping their wet objects against the large flat stones punctuated the dialogue of life.
How they got their clothes so sparkling clean was a mystery to Tom, but they did. As far as he could see, there was an unbroken line of buildings with steps extending into the waters. Whether they were palaces, guesthouses, markets or temples, it didn’t matter--their steps were covered with a huge, brilliantly colored, patchwork of drying saris, shirts, sheets, pants, and bedclothes. Nothing was sacred, while everything was sacred. This was the paradox of
“Hullo Thomas,” a voice spoke behind him, as he watched the river life far below.
“Eh, good morning Colin.”
Colin’s infectious smile and good humor, in a wiry and agile frame, pulled Tom back into conscious awareness. He was an energetic young guy of 18 years.
“And full of piss and vinegar,” Tom commented to himself.
“You’re up bright and early, mate!” Colin said in a crackling, and happy, cockney vernacular.
“Yeah, I slept on and off all night. I gave up trying around six a.m., and been up ever since. Is Luke awake yet?”
“That? E’s a sleeping beauty, that one, e is! Me? I can’t get more than four hours of sleep at a time, and e will go eighteen without a thought.”
“Maybe he’s got a lot to process,” suggested Tom.
“Naw, e’s a lazy bum, that one.”
Colin’s mischievous smile reminded Tom of Oliver Swift. It faded into a melancholy visage however.
“So, what attracted you to
“Well, me buddy moved there wit is family a copple years back, so we wanted to see ‘em. But, after our flights were booked, and everythin arranged, his mum’s work moved ‘em again! So, rather than change things, we just went there first. Jeez, what a place!”
“Didn’t your family worry about you?”
“Well, me mum doesn’t really know the places we’are going, and me Dad moved out a few years back. I don’t see him anymore.”
Remembered pain reflected across Colin’s face; then, just as quickly, was replaced by a bubbly smile. After an hour-long discussion, it became clear that Colin and his dad had been very close until he had an affair, and broke up with his mother.
“E’s a different person now. He lies, e’s mean to my mum; tho e is the one that messes up! Anyway, I don’t want him in my life until I’m strong enough in meself; soes I’m not effected by ‘is behavior. It hurts too much, and messes me up otherwise.”
“I understand what you mean. I admire your strength and intelligence in dealing with him on your terms. You’re doing the right thing; but I expect it hurts both of you, to not be together like you were.”
Close to tears, he nodded. Tom let the silence take over as they watched the activity along the riverside. It put Tom into a reflective mood.
He was in the
Breakfast was ‘pancakes’ with bananas. They were more like heavy crêpes topped with chunks of banana; but tasted good. His lemon pancakes never appeared, so he collared the proprietor.
“Sir, what have you charged to my bill? I only got one of my pancakes.”
“Oh, very sorry, sir. Do not be worried, it will be fixed.”
Placated, Tom tried to reconnect to his thoughts before Colin had arrived; but it was too late. By then Philip and Luke appeared, and began an animated discussion. Weather he liked it or not, the day had begun.
“Might as well make the most of it,” he decided.
“Hey, Philip? Are you up for a day of
“Yeah, sounds cool. Susan wants to visit deer park in Sarnath as well, eh?”
“Sure, we’ll put it on the list. Luke, Colin? You guys up for a tour?”
“When do we leave?”
“About noon--running till 7p.m. The driver will cost 600 Rupees, that’s 120 Rupees a piece; roughly three dollars.”
As everyone signaled agreement, the houseboy appeared with more pancakes. Banana pancakes on two plates, and a lemon pancake on another.
“Jesus, I give up! If their bill is like their service, I’m screwed,” whined Tom, unconvincingly.
“Hungry Colin?” he laughed, passing the plates without waiting for a reply.
He already knew the answer. Colin smiled broadly; and so the day began....
The booking agent told them that they had to walk to the cab. He gave them simple directions, yet as they got away from the guesthouse quarter and into the streets they were quickly confused. The narrow streets, which twisted through the ancient maze of structures alongside the
The streets weren’t much wider than arms length. Tom could almost touch the buildings on either side. The buildings were ancient, tall, and contorted into undecipherable shapes. Tom couldn’t get enough distance from any one building to see the whole thing at once. The height of the buildings, the balcony windows, the ever-pervasive darkness, and the twisting narrow streets obscured full views. The stone buildings were the oldest manmade structures he’d ever seen.
Even with the filth of cow droppings, and mysterious other feces, it was homey and generally pleasant. The faces and smiles were sincere, and happy. Living conditions were brutally simple, and possessions nearly non-existent; but it was a close, warm, community. Little kids scampered underfoot; barefoot, and barely clad. They were dark-skinned little sprites…giggling, laughing, and playing with the simplest of toys.
One child stood by a shop, looking longingly at a jar of candies. The wizened old shopkeeper, with a long beard and frail body, smiled at the boy, opened the jar, and gave him a candy. The child was ecstatic, and ran to show his father. It wasn’t much, but the child’s reaction was amazing...like he’d gotten a large piece of gold. The shopkeeper had very little, yet he shared it so generously. Tom could’ve bought everything in the tiny shop for $10. It was an impressive act of giving. It’s easy to give out of excess; but this gift was more than a sacrifice...it was nurturing at its best. It stunned Tom to experience this on a downtrodden and pitiful alleyway of rural
“We have everything that most people could ever imagine; yet they’re much richer,” Tom observed with melancholy clarity.
Moved beyond words, Tom bought handfuls of candies as an excuse to overpay. It was easy to read the man’s face…. benign acceptance of his barely subsistence life. He hadn’t expected to sell anything, and he smiled at Thomas; with a sense of love…and shared values...even though neither of them could understand each other’s language. Tom’s action wasn’t condescending; it was of the same vein as the old man’s; and, it was accepted as such.
Suddenly, Tom realized that he’d lingered too long and was left behind. He smiled to the man, and hurried down the street to a ‘Y’ shaped intersection.
“Which way did they go?”
The foot traffic to the right was heavier, and it appeared to lead somewhere--while the left-hand branch looked desolate. Tom pressed his way through the crowded street in search of his friends. After about twenty buildings, the street widened into a large intersection of two roads. Vegetable, fabric, and flower vendors lined the streets; and a man stood in the very center of the busy intersection with a cart, selling fried foods. It wasn’t incongruent from the narrow street he’d just left, it was just busier, wider, and sunny.
“I can see the sun!” he exclaimed.
The brightness was amazing, and put a new lightness on life. Tom now understood why one of the old names of the city was Kasi--the city of light. Just as he emerged from the dark labyrinth, he was greeted by Luke.
“We thought we’d lost you, Thomas!”
“Nope, just waylaid at a shop.”
“Itsa wild place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to wandering around. But for now, we’ve got to find the taxi driver.”
A short energetic Indian fellow walked directly up to them.
“Good morning, sir. My name is
With broken, but fair, English the connection had been made.
Taken aback by the easy rendezvous, Tom soon understood why the driver had found them so quickly. They were the only Caucasians on the street! They were immersed within a lively sea of colorful Indians, all speaking Hindi. It was a huge step back in time--into a strange world.
“Yes. Lets go!” Was all he could manage in reply.
Entering the vehicle,
“Tragic conditions,” Tom had thought, until he’d seen someone spit a load of vile red fluid onto a nearby street corner.
Learning this solved two mysteries. First, people’s teeth looked hideous because they were stained by years of pan juice. And second, why the bases of most buildings and stairwells were splattered with blood red stains.
“It’s just another filthy habit which distracts people from the true nature of
As soon as the details for the day were laboriously communicated and confirmed to the cabbie, he launched off into the crazed frenzy of the streets. With incredible reflexes, honed through years of experience, the cabbie honked, shoved, and cajoled his way past street vendors, beggars, children, rickshaws, cyclists, and trucks. He drove with wild abandon. Fearing for his safety, and the lives of those in the path of the rocketing car, Tom closed his eyes, or looked away, during near misses. Then, they came to an intersection. Instead of slowing down to assess a good opening in traffic, the cabbie blasted his horn and floored the gas pedal--causing the car to jump into the mass of bizarre movement, then through it, unscathed; and onto an extremely narrow road. When they went past a temple, where worshipers left their shoes lined-up outside by custom, the cabbie ran over the entire row of neatly situated shoes--only inches from the wall of the temple…in order to avoid hitting an invalid beggar sitting on the other side of the careening car.
“Now I understand why there are so many beggars without legs!” Tom exclaimed aloud.
Then the driver swerved sharply left, to avoid hitting a mother carrying a baby and walking two toddlers. As he gleefully ran vendors with carts into side alleys, the cabbie gained both encouragement and speed. Sitting in the front, Tom totally freaked out…while everyone in the back laughed at his reactions. Susan commented, in a sardonic advisory tone:
“That's why I tell people you can’t explain
“Live it?” Tom yelped. “We’re going to die in it! Or at least, end up like one of those poor crippled buggers panhandling on the streets! I didn’t come around the world to get trashed ina cab!”
“Oh calm down, Thomas. Its ok. These guys are experts. They have highly developed, quick, reflexes.”
"Ok. I believe That!
NOT!!”
Tom was in a panic. If they could see from his vantage point, they’d feel the same way. The driver, heretofore oblivious to everything, joined the conversation.
"Ok, Mr. Tom. You don’t like my driving? You drive!”
At that, he pressed the gas and raised his hands from the steering wheel and up to the ceiling of the cab. Tom grabbed the wheel, and spit back:
“Don’t pull that shit on me! All Indian cabbies do that, to get passengers to shut up. Drive as you have to, but go slower so we don’t kill any children, ok?”
Secretly, Tom was relieved to be in a cab--knowing that they were surrounded by the heavy steel of a mid-1900’s auto, and safer than anyone else on the street…other than the truck drivers.
But striving for compassion, he didn’t want to see the cab covered in innocent blood either. After his rickshaw rides in
“Its always the same guilt of living in
Eventually, they made it to the relative safety of a large road.
“Why are we going to
“That's where Buddha gave his first lesson over 2,500 years ago.”
“And good sir,” interjected
“Sounds good.”
Everyone gave nods of agreement, were pleased with the itinerary, and generally happy.
They took their time wandering around the temples and through the museum at Sarnath.
Tom was captivated by the large carved stones and statues, which were randomly scattered throughout the museum. Most were torn from ancient temples, and unidentified.
“It looks like many of these were stolen, then put here for safety,” commented Luke.
There was no discernable pattern of presentation, timelines, or cultural segregation among the priceless objects; and they lay upon the floors in disarray. Tom’s favorite was a huge statue of Dancing Shiva, with arms flying everywhere, and odd weapons in every hand.
“Wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley, eh?” commented Luke.
“Kind of scary.”
“I think that’s the idea” Luke joked. “Shiva is dancing within a flaming nimbus, and is stepping on the demon of ignorance. He periodically destroys the universe so it can be reborn again.”
Tom silently studied the statue, and then Luke. He was an interesting one…quiet, and yet very intelligent.
“Maybe that’s a reflection of his intelligence?”
Tom instinctively trusted Luke. That was reassuring, and his feelings were reciprocated; so they walked together throughout the museum.
“His dad’s a professor at
“I think those two are my favorites,” Tom said, as he pointed to a statue of four lions, and a large Buddha statue.
“Mine too! That’s a capital from one of the sacred columns that the Emperor Ashoka put up all over India in 231 B.C.E. I think it’s the only surviving one. The columns were at least sixty feet high, and made from polished sandstone. Edicts of Ashoka, who ruled the entire Indian subcontinent, were carved into the columns in Greek, Aramaic, and Indian dialects...so all the people he ruled could read them. He was a unique Emperor, who became a benevolent ruler and spread Buddhism everywhere. He was so upset by the people’s suffering, as a consequence of war, that he embraced nonviolence to consolidate his empire. The four lions symbolize the four quarters of the compass; and, Sakyamuni Buddha, who was known as the lion of the Sakya clan. They are standing upon a wheel that symbolizes the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. The Buddha’s ‘turning of the wheel of law.’ You know, the cycle of Samsara. The cessation of the suffering from continual rebirth…through the practices of right thought, right speech, and right action-these eliminate desires, and release us from Samsara. Attachment to work, self, power, and material things hold us in the cycle of Samsara. Desires bind us to a countless succession of rebirths. This attachment can be dissolved by methodically eliminating desires, and becoming selfless.”
“Fascinating. Each time I hear it, it’s different--but always the same in principle. Thanks for the info, I’ve never heard of Ashoka before. I guess the Hindus destroyed most everything associated with him when Buddhism was overrun by Hinduism.”
Luke smiled in appreciation of Tom’s compliment, and nodded--but said nothing.
“That’s his way,” thought Tom, admiringly.
After the museum, they drove around many temples.
“It is said that
Tom began to believe it. The Tibetan monastery was a letdown. It was fairly new, and lacked monks. The whole area felt a bit contrived. Sarnath had been a great center of Buddhism for 500 hundred years before, and after, the time of Christ; but had been destroyed over time. Many people believe Christ traveled to Varanasi as a boy, when it was unsafe for him in Judea after his challenging of the Pharisees in the Jewish temple. Tom hadn’t realized the age of the area that he’d come to visit. Nor could he describe why he came to
“One must not question something so strong. Just because it is not explainable, or understandable, does not mean it isn’t very real…only that our understanding has not been as fast as our hearing. You must learn to trust your inner voice,” his host in
Although, the massive excavations at Sarnath hinted at its former glory, the present structures were relatively new, ‘said’ nothing to Tom, and were therefore unappealing. It was an archeological dream, but dead to life.
“Lets go to Hindu University next,” Susan suggested. “Then, I want to go to a bong shop.
“Yes, miss I do,” he answered, puzzled.
Susan was from
“What the hell’s a bong shop?”
“Its a place where they sell hashish cookies. They’re great!” answered Susan sweetly.
“Ugghh, o.k..”
Everyone was nonplussed, except Colin.
“Cool. Lets go. Can we take some home?”
“That’s the idea, silly!” Susan replied with a mischievous grin.
It was clear to everyone that Susan planned on bedding one of them that night. The Hash cookies were to eliminate inhibitions.
“It’s going to take a lot of Hash cookies to get one of these guys to sleep with you,” thought Tom. He caught Luke’s and Philip's eyes. They had the same thoughts, and grinned conspiratorially. Colin was clueless. Then, Philip’s visage changed to that of a trapped rabbit.
“You’re going to have to come up with something creative to get out of this!” Tom communicated non-verbally.
Susan was a nice, but rough; and very raw from living in
Philip was a cultured University guy from
“Won’t it drive you mad to hike for days, then look up to find nothing changed? It’d go nuts!” Tom had asked him.
“Not me,” Philip had replied serenely. So Tom had let it go.
After Susan’s advances on the train, and her insistent forced bonding upon arriving in
Tom communicated he wasn’t interested when they first met; but Philip loved flirting with everyone, and craved attention. Tom warned him that his unwillingness to be forthright about his feelings would acerbate the situation.
“So the bong shop it is!” said Colin.
Philip gave Tom a desperate look. Tom’s response was a shrug, and a look of: ‘its your problem, dude.’
They visited
“
“Just how many Gods do you guys have?”
“Between 300 and 400. You have one son of God in Christianity, his name Jesus. We have one God, Vishnu, who had many many children...all like Jesus!“
Frustrated, unable to assimilate the strangeness and harshness of the scenes in the
“Well, you could have one for everyday of the year!“
“No not one for each day, one for each aspect of human nature and for each animal, like that. We don’t deny the true nature of humans. We acknowledge the good and the bad in people, and have Gods that represent those things. An avatar is a manifestation of a God, in which he performs a necessary function on earth.”
Intrigue replaced frustration, and Tom asked:
“Then what is Shiva?”
“Oh Shiva the warrior, defender, the God of deception.”
“You admire deception as a virtue?” Tom asked amazed.
“Yes it is a human trait, is it not?”
“Well yes, but one I shouldn’t want to promote or cultivate.”
“I don’t understand what you say, Mr. Tom. You must ask a more learn-ed person than my humble self.”
This response surprised Tom as much as anything else.
“
But, there it was. He was a changed man in the large and impressive temple, and felt unable to fully communicate his own religion. This put him into a reflective mood. Then, his flash of humility disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Let us leave now, Mr. Tom!“
"Ok, no problem. But I have one more question. Who is Hanuman?“
“Oh, the Lord Hanuman is almost as popular as Ganesh. He is the monkey God, where Ganesh has the aspect of an Elephant.“
“Will we see temples to Hanuman?“
“Yes, it is getting late; but we can still see the Sankat Mochan Temple and
“Good. Thanks for your help in explaining things.”
“I feel I don’t do so good job.”
“Oh, no you have. You’ve done the best of all the people I’ve talked to. Thank you. A most interesting religion!”
“Yes, very interesting. Very real.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
The
“Oh my God, look at all the monkeys,” Tom kept saying.
“You sound like a broken record, mate.”
“Yeah, like on the train from
“Sorry, I just love the little buggers. They’re so much fun.”
“Yeah, fun! Look at those spikes on the light poles and rooftops. They have those because the fun little monkeys like to pile up and bounce. They bounce until the light falls, or the roof gives in,” commented Philip laconically.
“You don’t sound like you like the cute little guys,” Tom teased.
“I set down my camera lens while I was taking pictures of some ‘cute little monkeys,’ and one swiped it before I knew that he was even there! He ran up a tree, quick as lightening, and played with it…teasing me. When he got tired, he dropped it to the stones where it shattered. So, yeah, they can be annoying. Watch your shiny things.”
“That's too funny. Sorry about your lens; but they’re smart little blighters, eh?”
Smiling, Philip conceded.
“Yeah I still like them.”
They explored the grounds of the temple, walking counter-clock-wise around the temple, circumambulating it like the pilgrims and locals.
“
“Yes, you ready to go?”
“Almost, but I have a couple questions. There are two weddings here. Does that happen often?”
“Yes, very often. There are sometimes fifty a day!”
“No way!”
“Yes way, Mr. Thomas,“ he replied seriously. “
“Wow, that's quite a contrast to the funerals on the
“It’s all part of life, no? Happy new marriages, new life with children? We live, and we die. It’s all the same. Part of life. Is it not the same where you come from?”
“Not exactly, but close. Only we’ve removed ourselves from facing and experiencing death. So, it becomes scarier to people--when it’s only natural.”
“Death is a time to rejoice. Your spirit leaves the pains of this life, to be reborn better. It is best to die in
“That’s very helpful
“You want to drive back to guesthouse?” he joked.
“Nope you drive. I’ll try to keep quiet.”
“It will not be so bad. Almost night. Not so much cars.”
“Great!”
They drove into the darkening evening, navigating through the city without incident. Suddenly,
“Bong shop here. You still want?”
“Yes, great!” said Susan, bounding out of the car.
The men reluctantly followed
“Looks spooky to me,” noted Colin.
“Quiet, mate. Just follow,” instructed Luke.
As they entered the building, they went from the blackness of night, to a gleaming new room full of light. It was a huge bar with expensive seats, beautiful lighting, and refrigerated beers.
“I ‘eard ‘at! I could use me a pint or two!“ Colin said joyfully.
“I’m with you, a few cold ones sound good to me.”
“We buy and leave. What is it that you like?” inquired
“Just some beers; about three each?” Tom asked.
“Just right, I’d say. But how much r they?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m buying…my treat!”
“Well definitely then, mate. We can take ‘em back to the guesthouse, and put ‘em on ice. The old geezer said we could use their icebox. I wouldn't mind getting a bit pissed meself,” said Colin.
“Great! Then it’s twelve beers. Unless you want some?”
“I don’t drink,”
“I want a few cookies,” interjected Susan.
Within minutes, the transactions were done and they were back in the car.
“The place looks like a speakeasy from prohibition.”
“Well, Hindus aren’t supposed to drink alcohol,” added Susan.
“But hash is ok?” asked Tom incredulously.
“Yeah, Vishnu says its ok to get high. An altered state is closer to letting go of earthly things, or something like that,” commented Philip.
“Whatever! I give up on trying to figure out this religion. It seems like there’s a God to justify any kind of behavior. You can just believe whatever God who represents what you want!”
“Well, that could be said for all the types of religions, couldn’t it?” queried Luke.
“God, you don’t say much; but when you do, it means something doesn’t it?”
“That's me boy!” said Colin proudly, and they all laughed.
Before long, they were back to the Vishnu guesthouse, and seated on the rooftop. The sky was alive with stars, and the waters of the
“Lettus know what we owe e for the tour, Thomas.”
“Sure.”
“You gave ’em a big tip didn't ja? E was great, ‘at one. What a fun bloke!”
“Yeah, I did. He was good; although I thought he was going to kill or maim us all at first.”
“You were frickin hilarious, Thomas! You were soooo scared! God, we’re all laughing our guts out.”
“You’re lucky you sat in the back seat--it was scary!”
“The back seat weren’t no picnic either, govner. Squeezed tight as sardines, we were. Me willy thought ‘ed got ‘is plums mashed, e did! But there was nothing better that seein you flip, mate. What a trip!”
Tom laughed. Susan got out her hash cookies. Colin was eager to try one, and Philip went along. Being Canadian, pot held little stigma; so he took one, as it were another beer. Tom and Luke politely declined.
“Oh well, that much more for us!” Susan said snottily, accentuating her disgust of their reticence.
“Jesus, she’s jumping on my last nerve,” thought Tom.
She still had her plans for Philip, or maybe Colin; but Tom didn’t have the patience or stomach to watch the twisted thing play out. He didn’t predict a good ending, and therefore he felt bad for her ultimate humiliation. It didn’t bother Tom that she craved intimacy, sex, or close attention; that’d be normal, and understandable. The issue was that it all was a game to her; and she mistook the clever men as putty in her hands. Being around her was uncomfortable, because her manipulative behavior made her very unattractive.
“Too bad she’s so blind,” thought Thomas. “She’s acting just like the lecherous guys on the train.”
He didn’t feel that she was going to be hurt too badly, because she was playing a cold game of manipulation. It was just pitiful to watch. She had no clue as to the depth of her targets.
“Its not worth wasting anymore time,” he thought.
“Goodnight, you’all. I’m off to bed. It’s been a good, but long, day. I need my beauty sleep. And, I need time to assimilate everything in this place. What an experience in different cultures!”
“I’m heading to bed too,” interjected Luke.
“Don’t stay up too late, party-boy,” he advised Colin.
Tom barely got his clothes off, before he fell into the large bed. He wasn’t too hot, because of the ’air cooler’ in the window. It was a funny affair, with a metal cabinet that looked like a real air conditioner; except, it only had a fan and a shallow tray of water inside. Silly as it was, it did help cool the room, and Tom felt comfortable under the sheets.
He drifted off to a light sleep. Not too much later, he heard Philip come into the room; and felt him fumble about with the covers, as he climbed into bed.
Tom thankfully slept the sleep of the dead.
*************
Tom awoke early, and found Philip sound asleep beside him. He’d gone to bed fully clothed, obviously overcautious about sleeping so close to another man in the same bed. Tom laughed at his caution, because he’d nothing to fear from Tom. Again, Tom wondered why many men were so hung up on being physically close to other people. It was evident that Philip needed, and desired, to remain close to Tom--this being their fourth night together. But still, he seemed confused.
“Why can’t he just relax?“ Tom wondered.
“Men!“ Was always his final conclusive remark to himself, an exasperated statement of his ongoing frustration with silly hang-ups.
Philip's face had an angelic look. He was relaxed, safe, and peaceful in his deep slumber. Tom felt good about that, and was happy that he could be there for him. It also eased Tom’s mind to know that he had someone watching his back; and it was someone nice to talk to as well. He recalled a much different Philip when they’d met in
As Tom lay in bed, he perceived small movements near the toilet. The ‘toilet’ was simply a hole in the floor of a small closet, which led directly into a stream far below. The movement was subtle, and hard to discern with Tom’s still sleepy vision. The walls were white, and slightly dingy--with streaks of blackish-gray across them. Squinting, to see what his peripheral vision had detected, he looked for a big bug. In
“God, I hope this place isn’t as bad as
He slowly propped himself up on his right elbow, so not to alert any cruddy visitors prematurely; and peered over Philip's prone, and silent, body.
Searching the walls and floors with a more acute eye, Tom realized that there weren’t any big bugs in the room. The gray and black streaks on the walls were actually thousands of small ants. That was the movement that his bleary morning eyes had noticed. Immediately he relaxed, and smiled at his unfounded fears. He watched the mass movement of the ants ebb and flow, from floor to ceiling. He’d never seen so many ants in a house before, and was amazed at how fast they had appeared. He knew they hadn’t been there when he went to bed last night. Since they weren’t really bothering anyone however, he was fascinated by their progression. Stretching to look up, he noticed that they were on the other walls as well, and had reached the ceiling.
“For itty bitty ants, they sure move fast,” he thought with admiration.
It was quite a distance from floor to ceiling, and they moved with a group consciousness. He knew that wasn’t true, but he believed that the willingness to give up independent thought was a requirement for such group dynamics.
“When there’s no sense of self, its amazing what a group of life forms can do,” he commented in a whisper.
Then, Philip rolled over slowly; and opened his eyes dreamily. His smile grew, as his eyes and mind registered where he was, and how he felt with Tom. Tom was caught off guard.
“I must’ve woken him with my ant musings,“ Tom thought, stupidly.
Feeling a bit awkward, literally leaning over his sleeping friend, Tom tried to recover his composure. Philip, for his part, wasn’t concerned. In fact, he was happy.
“Tom’s a great guy,” Philip thought as he awoke, half in a dream state.
“I wonder why I like him so much? I guess because he doesn’t want anything from me other than companionship, and he really does care about me. He respects who I am, and we have great talks. Does this mean we’re too close? Jesus, I’m not my sister! Just because she’s a lesbian, doesn’t mean I’m...”
Seeing Philip's face change from a state of serene peacefulness and comfort, to a growing sense of panic, Tom realized that he hadn’t been worried about Tom when he went to bed with all his clothes on, he’d been worried about himself--what might happen in his sleep. To stem his panic, Tom spoke up quickly.
“Shhh. Look up on the walls behind you. I’ve been watching the ants move in…see?”
Thankfully distracted, Philip turned and followed Tom’s gaze to the walls and ceiling. He laughed silently, and lay still a longtime watching the ants.
“Do you think they’ll carry us away?” asked Philip, teasingly.
“Maybe me, but not you.”
“Why not me?”
“Because you aren't sweet enough!” Tom joked.
“Sweeter than You!” Philip replied too quickly, without thought to Tom’s double entendre.
“Oh, O.k. You’d know better than me!” Tom jibed with a laugh, and tousled Philip's hair into a mess.
Continuing on, so not to spoil the moment with unfounded anxieties, Tom quickly got out of bed and pulled on his pants.
“Hey, you’re still half asleep. I’ve been awake for a long time, and am really hungry. I’ll see you outside on the patio for breakfast when you wake up...or the ants bring you out! Regardless of how you arrive, I’ll see you later. Take your time, and relax, ok?” Tom said with a big endearing smile.
“Sure. Thanks, Thomas,” was his happy and dreamy reply.
Tom knew just how much to tease, and when to let go; and Philip appreciated it.
“Its like he can read my mind and feelings, and he still cares for me. Just as I am inside,” Philip mused sleepily. He drifted between half-awake, and half-asleep. It felt good, but panic threatened to creep in.
“Am I that transparent to people?” he wondered.
“No, big guy. Just to me,” Tom answered his unspoken, but obvious, question.
It was written all over Philip’s face.
“And you know what?” asked Tom.
“What?” he asked, as if the whole conversation had been aloud.
“Its o.k. I’m on your side, o.k? So, go back to sleep!”
“Yessirr!”
Tom left the room, and quietly closed the door behind him. He knew Philip needed the sleep. The train ride from
“I don’t know how I’ll ever get to
She didn‘t whine or complain, but was frustrated and lonely.
“Surely they won’t leave without you,” countered Tom sympathetically.
“Oui, but they must! Our break from University is very limited, and they won’t have time for Trek if they don’t keep schedule.”
“We got train tickets to
“They are sold out, and no more trains to
“I know what you mean about the trains; but you shouldn’t travel alone, it’s not safe for women.”
“c‘est la vie,” she replied with a wonderful smile. “let us have our breakfast, no?”
“Oui,” replied Tom. “More tea, s’il vous plaît?”
She poured him tea, and they had a wonderful breakfast. A Dutch couple sat next to them. They were pleasant, if obsessive, and the woman described the wonderful silks of
“Do you not know?” she asked, as if Tom were a cretin.
“From the looms of
“It is for this reason that we traveled here on our holiday!” added her husband.
“You must stop by our room, and see what we have purchased.”
“That would be nice,” replied Tom politely; all the time looking at Margret. Both stifled outright laughter.
Tom thought about Margret’s travel problem again. He wasn’t ready to commit to anything, but he knew he didn’t feel like leaving on the midnight train. Something nagged at his consciousness;
“I have an idea, Margret.”
“Oui, what is it?”
“Why don’t you ask the booking agent in the office if he has any other alternatives? Then, I’ll meet you at the Dutch couple’s room.”
“That sounds good,” she agreed happily.
On the way, Tom ran into Philip.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!”
Philip grumbled something inaudible.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes! Must you always ask so much?” he replied testily.
“No, I don’t. Excuse me for living. Sounds like you got up on the wrong side of the bed!”
“That's my affair, isn’t it?”
"Ok, whatever...”
Susan suddenly appeared. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, she pointedly ignored Tom and spoke directly to Philip.
“Lets go eat breakfast now, huh?”
“Sure.” He walked away from Tom with surprising abruptness.
Tom decided that he was done with Susan. While inept at her games, she was still a drama princess; and he had no desire to have his growing peacefulness disrupted by her incessant games.
“I didn’t come here to get caught up in some juvenile drama with Ms. Tex-Ass, and Mr. Conflicted. I really like Philip, but I’m not putting up with mood swings from hell, just because he has intimacy issues. Shakespeare said it best: ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.‘ I’ll give him an intimacy experience, and take care of Ms. Bitch at the same time,” he resolved with a laugh at his brilliant resolution to the situation.
Tom met Margret at the Dutch couple’s room. The silks were impressive. They were brilliantly colored, and shimmered with gold as they undulated with the slightest movement. They were delicate, yet extremely strong; the most beautiful fabric Tom had ever seen. He wasn’t into fabrics, but he found himself just wanting to touch them….to experience their silkiness. They’d purchased a significant collection, and were becoming self-conscious about showing their treasure trove to strangers. They quickly wrapped everything into plain paper bundles, and stowed all in torn-up backpacks; thus disguising their valuables from prospective thieves.
“You can’t be too careful in
They seemed relieved, and said their goodbyes.
“Did you find any alternatives to
“No. Dhere ize nuth-ing! It is im-poss-e-ble! I must stay a while longer here,” she said sadly.
“I have a ticket on the midnight train, but want to stay. You can have my ticket, yes?”
“Really? Is that ok with you? But, I must pay you for it, no?”
“Sure. You can have it for half-price.”
“Oui, that is most sweet of you. I shall never forget your kindness.”
“That’s ok. You shouldn’t be traveling alone in
“Thank you so very much,” she said with a flourish. She gave him a big hug, and feather-light kiss.
"Ok,” he said, blushing. “Let me introduce you, they’re having breakfast.”
As they approached, Philip grew wide-eyed and his face lit up. He obviously appreciated Margret’s beauty, and graceful bearing. Susan was sitting very close to Philip, almost on top of him, and smiled at Tom with an evil grin.
“WhatEver! Girl, you’re ruthless, and totally clueless--not a good combination,” he thought to himself.
Outwardly, he was pleasant…and as detached from the mess as he really felt.
“Philip, Susan, this is Margret. She’s from
Philip beamed with a big smile, and Susan’s seethed with unconcealed hate towards Tom. Margret, being a most adept French woman, smiled at her new prey. Tom laughed at it all, and headed for the narrow, steep, stone steps that led down to the
“’Youth IS wasted on the young,’” he groused.
It grew increasingly hard for Tom to see them throw away, or seriously postpone, life--in favor of a fruitless and painful road. It was troubling to watch their awareness being blunted, rather than honed, by turning down the wrong crossroads in their 20’s and 30’s--choosing societal games, rather than trusting their innate instinct for life. He tried to communicate that it wasn’t a necessary, nor desirable, thing to do. He believed their misdirection was the beginning of a disassociative process from nature, and their true nature. It’s society’s biggest betrayal-to convey acceptance and reward when people blindly follow conventional ‘wisdom’ in current societal practices; dissuading them from developing their own ability to learn real wisdom.
“I’ve got to learn to let them go,” even though he saw the struggle in their eyes.
It wasn’t easy to accept, and it troubled his spirit.
“They have to live their own life. I can try to help, by showing them a fulfilling path; but some can’t hear, and have to go a longer and harder way first,” he lamented.
“There’s always hope,” he reassured himself.
Yet the tragedy of their loss still stung him. Amazingly, it was easier to accept in older people who were already years deep into denial and destructive attachments to banal things. For in them he perceived the dawning hope of redemption from their self-inflicted distress…where anything was an improvement. But in the young and innocent ones, it seemed easily avoidable; and always led to a painful, unnecessary, trip…always a big loss, before hope of any long-term improvement. He’d come to realize however, that his was but a lonely voice in the wilderness, and therefore hard to trust.
He spent the day wandering the many markets of
“You’re such a mess, Philip!” Tom said--to address Philip's silently churning emotions.
“Don’t worry, I still love you man!” he joked.
“Anyway, being considered ‘a mess’ is term of endearment in the South. Well, sort of...”
“I’ll be at the Tibetan guesthouse in
“Sure, I’ll stop in.”
But they both knew that the premature break-off was the end of their fledgling relationship.
“He just can’t cope with it, yet. He’s got a long way to go,” Tom thought sadly, as he rationalized Philip's inability to be honest with himself, and be comfortable with his feelings.
Tom had been through the scenario too many times in his life, and was thankful for his new pro-activeness in severing ties first--before they really betrayed his trust, and hurt him worse.
“Guess I’m learning!” He congratulated himself. Finally he listened to, and constructively responded to, the warning signs that appeared…ones he had ignored before, ’just in case.’
“He’s just ‘at’ where he’s ‘at,’ its no reflection on me.”
“Its better I realize it, and deal with it responsibly from my end; because they never seem to do so on their own.”
Tom waved, as Philip walked towards the two waiting women.
“Always leave them in a better place, and let them think that they did the leaving,” Tom reminded himself of his golden rule.
“They retain what they’ve learned; and can move forward.”
It was, however, never easy for Tom. But it was easier knowing that he’d done them some good. He walked down to the river, and watched the rippling waters in the moonlight. A little, thinly clad wisp of a girl walked up to him from the shadows. She smiled a beaming smile, as she held out butter candles to him in anticipation. He looked deeply into her dark eyes, and saw incredible strength within her. She eked her way through life by selling tiny memorial candles. Tom smiled, his problems were trivial; and he handed her a wad of money. She gave him a spontaneous hug, pulled a match from nowhere, and ran to the water’s edge. She lit all of her candles, and swiftly set them adrift on the pitch-black river; whose waters lapped quietly, yet incessantly, against the myriad of stone steps.
“Its all good,” Tom concluded.
**********
The days passed, and Tom found himself perched upon his favorite location…the solitary table on the rickety third-story riverfront balcony of the guesthouse. The sun had risen an hour before, and the activity on the
Tom sighted a group of young men, all soaped up and goofing about, as they took their morning bath together. He descended down the many steps to the water’s edge, and sat on the lower ones so he could enjoy their infectious silliness. Within minutes people began to congregate all along the steps. They smiled serenely, as they sat down around him. Soon he was surrounded, but he felt comfortable because the spontaneous group of people openly accepted his presence. Thus silently ‘invited’ into their world, he smiled as a warm feeling swept through him.
“This is life,” he reflected calmly upon his inclusion.
A wooden fishing boat was tethered to the shore, and it contained ten brightly dressed beautiful women in silken saris. Alongside, the water was full of young strong men, doing their daily ablutions and getting clean before going to fish. One fellow didn’t think he needed a bath, but his friends were sure that he did. Covered in soapsuds, five of them plucked him off the steps and carried him into the water. They were alive with good-natured laughter. Once in the water, he enjoyed the fun of the moment and the kind amusement of his friends. Lacking any inhibitions, they cavorted in the water to the enjoyment of all watchers.
As Tom watched the interaction, the clothes washers started beating their wet bundles on the rocks. He felt that he was ready to join in, and swim himself. As he set aside his journal, a small child suddenly appeared in front of him-blocking his view. Then another child appeared to his right side, a larger child to his left, and a crowd of adults and children assembled behind him. Fighting back an urge to bolt, Tom looked into the eyes of those around him with an uncompromising, yet compassionate, countenance. The eldest man, about 70 years old, addressed Tom quite abruptly.
“They wonder what you are writing in your book?” he asked with genuine interest. His voice also carried the unmistakable statement of: ‘we are not here for anthropological studies.’
Tom smiled, and responded in a very relaxed tone of voice.
“I feel the Buddha’s words, and his fathomless compassion inside me; yet I can’t quite integrate it into my life--so powerful is his message. So I try to write, in order to understand more fully.”
The old man smiled and responded:
“Patience and meditation will help.”
Then, without a word, the whole group dissolved into the surrounding scene. They appeared, and disappeared, like apparitions--drifting off into the light morning fog. Tom wondered if he’d imagined them, such was their ethereal nature. All thoughts of swimming were overridden by a strong desire to share his experience with Luke and Colin.
He ran up the many stairs, then up through the cave-like stair tunnel into the Vishnu guesthouse, and directly to their room. He knocked loudly, and the door opened by the force of his knocking. He found his young friends lying in bed, barely awake, and the room in total disarray. With a jovial smile, Tom gave them a little ’of the piss.’
“Hey get off your lazy arses, and come down and swim in the
Greeted with vacant stares, and minimal comprehension, Tom knew that while he wanted to share his important insight into life with them, it was meant for him alone. Hopefully, in time, they would have a similar revelation--but it wasn’t going to be today. They were two blokes on an extended holiday, and oblivious to everything but getting more sleep.
“How can we be within two feet of something inspirational and invaluable, yet we focus on the inane?”
As Tom realized the impact of his experiences, he also felt the shocking blow of how few people actually looked for increased awareness or enlightenment. Additionally, the small minority that were lucky enough to be exposed to the circumstances which could help bring it, often walked past it with blind eyes and closed hearts.
“We’ve insulated ourselves from seeing what’s right in front of our eyes, and have thereby blinded ourselves to life--in favor of the enticing distractions of a material-centered existence. We have T.V. feeding us our perspectives; instead of gaining them through experiences and reflective thought. We have huge houses, multiple cars, and emotionally cold and detached concrete cities--instead connections with each other and nature.”
The revelations ran through his consciousness in rapid succession. At that moment, he experienced an epiphany; and finally understood the true riches and mystery of
He knew that his time in
He was beginning to learn another way to live life.
Below are some interesting links on
fairly accurate description vid on cremation in Varanasi
The blessings of life and weddings in Varanasi, a video
A travelers blog on travel in Varanasi
Cautionary tail of unsafe travel in Varanasi
Wikitravel thumbnail on Varanasi
example of bodies that float up from time to time
©Tibet, Lamplight Unto a Darkened World…the American Delusion, a Parody of life ( L'illusion Américaine, une Parodie de Vie); is copyright protected, by author, Patrick Mahoney. Online Internet Reproduction/Propagation/Quotation Encouraged, with this citation. Any Printed reproduction, other than for personal reading, requires written permission by author, patrickm at http://patrickm.gather.com/ or patrick1000000000@yahoo.com
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