Crossplanet

En cet fin d’après-midi du mois d’août, je me trouvai à Haridwar, ville sainte de l’Uttaranchal, point de départ des pèlerinages vers les sources du Ganges. J’avais passé la journée sur les ghats, ces marches qui descendent dans le fleuve sacré, au milieu des ces milliers d’hommes et de femmes, pèlerins, promeneurs, adolescents en mal de baignade.

Mon tour était venu de me plonger dans les Ganges, Ganga mâ, la « mère Ganges » des Indiens. Descendant les marches, j’entrai dans l’eau et je sentais l’eau gonflée mes vêtements. Deux jeunes couples se baignaient aussi. Une des jeunes femmes, reconnaissant mon « étrangeté », me tendit la main et c’est avec elle que je fis mon baptême. Une fois dans l’eau jusqu’à la poitrine, elle me dit : « la tête aussi, la tête sous l’eau ! » Je n’avais pas parcouru toute cette distance pour être timorée. Je pris une grande inspiration, et tête sous l’eau, plusieurs fois, au milieu des rires et des paroles rassurantes de ces jeunes gens. Un vrai baptême du Ganges.

Puis je remontai sur les marches et me laissai sécher au soleil de cet fin d’après-midi. Tout simplement heureuse d’être là.

I remember one day in Dharamsala, after lunch, I went for a long walk up the mountain, following the small road leading to Dharamkot, where the Vipassana meditation center is. It was a misty day, village and mountain wrapped in mist, creating such an atmosphere of "enchanted forest".

The road was climbing up quite hard, 500 m higher in only 3 km, I was walking peacefully, quietly. I was alone, but far away from being lonely...

Silence all over, allowing the nature to talk... Birds singing, branches cracking, trees whispering with the light wind, animals animating the forest, the rain chanting... I felt very impressed to walk among those fierce deodars, the Himalayan cedar trees, so tall, standing so right.

Every now and then the rain was falling, and despite my umbrella soon I was completely wet, but I wasn't cold. It was raining and I wasn't sad. I don't remember crossing other people on the road.

It took me more than one hour to go all the way up, to Dharamkot. On the way back, the rain started to fall harder. Walking with sandals became slippery. I took off my shoes, and continued to walk barefoot, all wet under my umbrella.

At some point I stopped. There I was, in the middle of the enchanted forest, feeling  the silence deep inside, every inch of my body feeling the atmosphere, every part of my being fully living this beautiful moment. At that moment, I had a glimpse of what awareness is and the happiness that came with it is forever mine.

Last summer I've spent a few days of peace in Dharamsala, an important moment of my travel in Northern India.

I didn't know exactly why I've put this place on my itinerary until I arrived. When I reached the village, after nearly 10 hours of a chaotic journey on a noisy lousy local bus struggling on mountain roads half-destroyed by the heavy rains, when I felt the chilled air on my face, when I smelt the atmosphere of the Himalaya mountains, then I knew I had to come. It was so peaceful there that I could feel a general different state of mind, a different "spirit" animating the people in the streets.

Right from the start, I felt at home there and it was funny to notice that in just a few days I had already picked up some habits : my favourite place for meals (Tibetan food is really delicious!), walking the Kora (the mani path around the temple) to start and end the day, meditating at the temple, a long walk in the woods around after lunch...

Right for the start also, I met some nice people, like Tom, a Dutch man living near Bangalore, who shared most of my days and taught me so much about life in Dharamsala and Tibetan culture, and Tashi, a young Tibetan painting teacher.

Many happy memories of the stay there. I've gathered some pictures in this album here.

More on Dharamsala and the Tibetan government in exile :

The government of Tibet in exile: http://www.tibet.com/

The official site of Central Tibetan Administration: http://www.tibet.net/

The office of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama: http://www.dalailama.com/

Many thanks to Lou who sent me this link and made me discover Roger Bella, a talented photographer who published really nice pictures about a stay in Pushkar. More pictures are here.

I will definitely put Pushkar on my wish list for the next trip in India.

After 2 weeks in grey Paris, I miss the cheerful colours of Rajasthan...

Officially I came back a week ago, but I'm still half here half there. I cannot really write about it yet, but here are some pictures.

It was a wonderful journey and I'm ready to start again, actually already thinking about the next trip.

The clouds gathered again over Rishikesh around 4pm, more and more threatening, at 5 it was almost as dark as night. Then came the first drops, heavy ones. Soon after it was pouring, heavy rain, like if the sky had just opened on top of most. I took refuge under the plastic roof of a tea stall and I had tea laughing and chatting with two saddhus, a young woman and her son.

The rain was impressive, the sky so dark, thunder and lightnings. In less than one hour, there was 10 cm of water in the streets, and it was still flowing from everywhere, sweeping everything away. The power of water can be very scary. And it went on and on. 

The Ganga aarti took place just the same, and it was funny to sing under the rain, the atmosphere was really merry.

When it was time to go home, it was still raining, it seemed it would never stop. The power had went off at the beginning of the storm. I bought a local raincoat, which is little more than a plastic bag with sleeves, took off my sandals, useless with so much water, and started on. Here I was on the dark road, only lighted from time to time by a car passing by or by the occasional  lightnings, 2 kms to reach the hotel, in a pitch dark night, under the pouring rain, soaked and barefooted. And guess what? I had a wonderful feeling of freedom! and I was smiling.

I reached home half an hour later. The rain had temporarily stopped, people were once again cleaning up the mud of the streets. It rained heavily almost all night.

Lunch on the terrace over the river. It's raining and sunny, it's hot too. People are crossing the suspended bridge, going from one bank to the other. Women in colourful saris. Sadhus almost naked. Monkeys. Boys and girls in school uniforms, playing in the rain. Cows, holy or not. Bicycles and motorbikes. Dogs, of size and colours. Tourists with rucksacks. Rajasthani pilgrims. Mountains in the backgrounds, all green with so many species of trees. The jungle, as they call it. Summer rain. The white Ganges is flowing wildly below. Some drum music coming to my ears. The wind is playing with the bells of the temples. I can't believe I'm here, still it's me, fully aware, fully living these moments. I'm happy. The gods are smiling.

I've started my journey on the banks of the Yamuna, I'm ending it with the Ganges. I would say that I've kept the best for the end, but then... I could have said the same every day of the last weeks, I've kept the best for today.

Meeting mother Ganges was for me a very special moment. In every language I know, the river Ganges is masculine, but in hindi it's feminine and the mother of all. The meeting took place in Haridwar, a holy city, at Har-ki-pairi ghat, the starting place of the pilgrimage to the four sacred rivers of India. 

I had imagined a quiet and sweet mother... in fact she's pretty wild with very strong currents. The water is white grey, a bit like milk. I took a bath on the ghat, along with hundreds of men, women and children. It's a strange feeling to enter a river by walking down the stairs, fully dressed. People around me smiling and laughing to see a non-hindu joining them. A nice woman, holding my hand, told me to go on completely, head and all, so that was my baptism in the Ganges.

I stayed on the ghat for the Ganga aarti, the salute at sunset, when thousands of wows, greetings and prayers are given to the river, along with flowers, incense and candles. Beautiful and unreal.