Blessed waters...
Trip Start
Apr 29, 2008
1
10
19
Trip End
Aug 03, 2008
Left Mussoorie as soon as possible given the creepy circumstances...and decided to meet the girls in Rishikesh for the day....was planning on visiting the elephant park and go rafting but Lauren got a case of the tum-tum tango( shits) so we called it off and I wandered the streets and ghats... chatted to some sadhus about the absolute reality of truth and manifestations....we tried to philosophically rationalize the existence of ghosts in a universe of reincarnation....then I got to check off #32 on things to do before I die...bathe in the Ganga..
The Ganges is the source of all life in India, it nourishes both physical and spiritual needs, ganga water is holy enough to cleanse one od all sins and ailments if he believes.....today I believe. Anybody who knows me, knows I have had trouble with the plumbing for a while...that and the mystery sickness that attached itself to me while in the city of clouds were weighing me down pretty good by the time I joined the faithful at the riverside. I guess not too many white people do this because people stopped and stared as I stripped down and waded in....the cool water tingled with energy...it was like the whole murky river was electrified. I dipped my head and suddenly a near unbearable lightness overcame me, I though I would float away on the current, but something deep inside kept me rooted to the river bottom. Golden flakes of sunlight flittered along the river surface, as I realized an old man at my side was also bathing and praying....for me. He greeted me and smiled as if he knew me, touched my head and then waded away. I stayed and let the river caress and restore me as Surya slowly crept behind the purple hills and dusk took over.... when I returned to the riverbank there where several sadhus near my gear... The youngest of them, a lean man of maybe 45 silently rose, his ashed smeared body blended in with the sandy bank, lending him a wraithlike quality. He greeted me in perfect english, and offered a blessing....his matted locks swaying rhythmically around his shoulders, the beggar bowl made out of a brahmin skull dangling ominously at his side...he gently grasped my head and smeared threelines of ash from a small pouch onto my head, while reciting a shaivite chant... my forehead felt like it was going to explode but it passed quickly and a cooling tingle coursed through my body, I thanked him offered a donation and reluctantly headed back to the ashram, I wanted to stay and talk with the holy men but I was starving. It felt like I hadn't eaten in years....I showed down hardcore, not once thinking of my guts...I hven't had a problem since....
The Ganges is the source of all life in India, it nourishes both physical and spiritual needs, ganga water is holy enough to cleanse one od all sins and ailments if he believes.....today I believe. Anybody who knows me, knows I have had trouble with the plumbing for a while...that and the mystery sickness that attached itself to me while in the city of clouds were weighing me down pretty good by the time I joined the faithful at the riverside. I guess not too many white people do this because people stopped and stared as I stripped down and waded in....the cool water tingled with energy...it was like the whole murky river was electrified. I dipped my head and suddenly a near unbearable lightness overcame me, I though I would float away on the current, but something deep inside kept me rooted to the river bottom. Golden flakes of sunlight flittered along the river surface, as I realized an old man at my side was also bathing and praying....for me. He greeted me and smiled as if he knew me, touched my head and then waded away. I stayed and let the river caress and restore me as Surya slowly crept behind the purple hills and dusk took over.... when I returned to the riverbank there where several sadhus near my gear... The youngest of them, a lean man of maybe 45 silently rose, his ashed smeared body blended in with the sandy bank, lending him a wraithlike quality. He greeted me in perfect english, and offered a blessing....his matted locks swaying rhythmically around his shoulders, the beggar bowl made out of a brahmin skull dangling ominously at his side...he gently grasped my head and smeared threelines of ash from a small pouch onto my head, while reciting a shaivite chant... my forehead felt like it was going to explode but it passed quickly and a cooling tingle coursed through my body, I thanked him offered a donation and reluctantly headed back to the ashram, I wanted to stay and talk with the holy men but I was starving. It felt like I hadn't eaten in years....I showed down hardcore, not once thinking of my guts...I hven't had a problem since....



