News from India 3 – January 9th 2009

[Sophie Mason]

Happy New Year!
Where to start? It’s been a while since I wrote anything down and a lot has happened, so I’m forcing myself to sit and set fingers to keys. Please bear the following health warnings in mind: firstly, I’m in a fabulous mood, if any of this sounds sickeningly wonderful, then I apologise for any inconvenience caused (Dad, you especially!) secondly, before editing, this whole thing is about eight pages long (I’m going to cut it a bit) but I’ve written a kind of ‘summary’ at the start, so if you haven’t got the time or the inclination to brave nearly four thousand waffly words then don’t read past the stars!

So, in brief:

Sightseeing in Delhi continues: there is so much to see! Childish delight at Humayan’s tomb where health and safety is non-existant. Digestive problems, wintery colds, and emotional lows overcome, momos can solve anything. Lots of weddings: hefty make-up, disasters and saris, fighting between cousins, lack of communication and (as always in India) timekeeping or organisation, and more monk mayhem (they ended up taking over our ceremony and we packed up and left. Bas!) Life in India is complex, but one good wedding (fights and all) can come somewhere close to summing it up. Teaching and socialising continues as the project is evolving and strengthening, sometimes it feels like we’re going nowhere and then all of a sudden everything clicks into place or something happens which is astonishingly perfect.

Travelling through Rajasthan was incredible. I found my stride and the skin-prickling tingle of kushi (joy, happiness) which comes when all is delightfully well, the warmth of looking through happy eyes. Even the nightbus could only stir not shake the smile from me. Stars, sunsets, piar (love), shanty (peace) and dawns. In Pushkar I wanted to reach out and hug the mountains (no I wasn’t on drugs) and in Jaisalmer I felt like a Maharani (princess). Stories of the fat man who fell off his camel, and the woman who rode hers wearing a sari which got caught on a cactus, came with chapattis of the gods from our camel drivers. I met Ivone, the best travelling companion I could have wished for, and slept under the stars for the last five nights.

Back in Delhi now, I’m ready for the next six weeks or so here, and then a few weeks travelling at the end :-)


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[And now for the longer part!]

Okay, this is going back a while, to November in fact! The weather here got colder, but nothing like England, the sun is still warm though the nights are chilly. I’d been here for a whole month, it’s hard to imagine, but tracing through my diaries I find that I was still nervous and scared of being on my own, and I write about how happy I was that I managed to take a trip to the Red Fort all by myself, negotiating autorikshaws and the metro singlehanded. On the way to the metro in Chandni Chowk I met a Sikh man, he was on the way to visit a temple and showed me around it, giving me his address in the Punjab and saying I should come visit his family! Moving on through November, I bought a green silk sari and went to four or five more weddings, went to the cinema to see a Bollywood film, and to see Quantum of Solace. I taught some more classes, and had an energy-sapping cold which left me questioning ‘what am I doing here?’ a little, but got through the cold and the slump by coming up with the answer: ‘oi! You’re in India! Make the most of it. Get on with it!’ (Thanks to Tom especially for being an inspiration at going out and doing things and getting on with enjoying life!) I went to the International Trade Fair, twice in fact! Thousands of people were there, and stalls from all over the world. Each state of India had their own pavilion, displaying their uniqueness in architecture as well as governing policies. It was fascinating to see all the crafts and clothes (I bought an orange sari among other things) and people, and the music and dancers and .... it was overwhelming! I think I also discovered momos in November – Tibetan dumplings, which have remained my favourite food all this time (Though I’m still vegetarian Keith!). I saw a sign on the way into town that day: “Sewer Rehabilitation” (meaning relocation?) and I still can’t believe the traffic violations! (Also, the McDelivery number in Delhi is laughably “66 000 666”, I have a photo of the sign somewhere). I’ve been learning some more Hindi, my favourite phrase being ‘mai kheer pasand karti ho’ (I like sweet rice). I went to a museum about Nehru the second time I went to the IITF – like Dr. Ambedkhar he’s someone I’d like to learn more about, the history here is really charged. I went to the Sound and Light show at the Red Fort before Christmas, which is an inspired imagining of the history of Delhi.

The Mumbai bombings sent ripples to Delhi, and the atmosphere was tense for a while. Being foreigners currently so emotionally involved in India, Sahishnu and I were quite hurt by the whole situation and the way it was handled by the media. Ordinary people were hurt too, but the focus was on the celebrities and foreigners. We held a puja for all those affected, including in our dedication the terrorists and their families. A fresh bout of doubt came round me for a while, but I decided that I was no less safe here than anywhere else in the world. I had indigestion problems for the first few weeks of December, and lost the joys of eating in India, which was a massive blow – I’ve been more than making up for it since I got better though! The doctor gave me some tablets and warned me off chai and chawal, I followed his advice for as long as I could, but what good is life in India without tea and rice?

Aside from teaching, December was all about weddings. Lots of the Indian volunteers had relatives who were getting married, Laksha and Amit’s sisters, Prakash’s sister, and Suvidya’s daughter. Sangeets and ceremonies abounded, and my palms were permanently henna-ed. One of the times, I did my own left hand, and I had a go at a few other people too. I tried to tie my own sari on the way to one wedding, and everyone laughed at me – I couldn’t see what was wrong at all. It was embarrassing, but then I have a strategy for this too: if people are laughing at me (which they often do here) then I am bringing them happiness :-D I did a bit better at the sari the second time, but I was still re-wrapped half a dozen times.

One day off in December I went to the Buddha Jyanti park, where a big Shakyamuni statue is surrounded by water. A rock there is carved with the dedication words of the Dalai Lama from the opening ceremony (Sujata: “It’s not a Buddha park, it’s a couples park!”). On the way there on the bike we turned down a quiet road lined with banyan trees, roots hanging from their branches absorb water from the air. There were dappled shadows and monkeys everywhere, it was so calm and peaceful. Another turn, and we were back in the city. Noise! Busy! Horns! Cars! Bikes! Balanced on a steep bank was a tent-house, saris drying on the guy-ropes. You get used to the ramshackle dwellings, but every now and then you stop and wonder what must life be like? And for those with no shelter? There’s lots of moments like that here, where wildly varying pieces of life are smushed together and my poor little brain is left reeling trying to make some kind of sense of things, and is filled with millions of questions.

My favourite sightseeing day was just before going off travelling, I went to Humayan’s tomb. It’s amazing! Domed ruins going through some hefty restoration rise from sculpted gardens, hot sun and cool shade. Several smaller tombs surround a central great one. Like dilapidated castles in the UK, hidden alcoves contain spiral staircases, but no health and safety barriers or even handrails here! The child in me ran and climbed over Everything! It was thrilling! I didn’t have my camera, but was half glad, as so many tourists were there with big fancy ones, and it was lovely just to see it, and Be there, for me, not to take photos of it. There were wild parrots on one of the domes, no others, just that one. I met a man doing a documentary for the BBC about Cricket and India! We drove round the corner looking for some lunch, and got haircuts instead, I have a fringe now! Next door to the salon was a cafe where I had hommous and falafels... oh my! Hommous! The falafels were reassuringly Indian-ly spiced, but the hommous was pretty genuine. Lovely :-) That day I also taught a class, which went really well. I think I really fell in love with India that day, on the way into town I just had an immense feeling – you can see so much from a motorbike (I’m going to get one, one day) – we went over a bridge, up in the air I could see big buildings to the left, and on the right were ordinary streets and houses, crowded and higgledepiggledy, I was thinking about all the people, the buffalo carts, the bikes , roads , shops , confusion and religion (and lack of!), the smells, food and families, poverty and beauty and pride and welcoming. The BBC man said ‘you look quite native’ to me, and I told some jokes to Prakash’s cousin-brothers, and ate monkeynuts. I don’t think you either love or hate India, you feel both – along with frustration, anger, confusion, bewilderment, acceptance and complete calm – each following and colliding in bizarre cycles! No wonder I’m getting so emotional: This is India! Hurry up and Wait! Open your eyes, your mind and your heart and let it all pour in.

The next day was not so amazing, got loads of hassle in Chandni Chowk, and the fuse box in the flat kept tripping. This is India.


The Interesting Meal: On 11th December, we went to a meal at Mohan Muddan Laal’s house, a man who comes to our services at the flat, and who takes his children to the classes at Laxmi Gardens. He came with two friends with bikes to collect us, and I went on Prakash’s bike. Six of us on three bikes in chaotic traffic, a weaving convoy through the night along the most convoluted route to M-L’s house, over bridges, along canals and through mud. I was bright eyed and over-sensed by all the smells and people, but I’m getting used to that! We had pakora and snacks at M-L’s house in a sort of half-courtyard, on a low hard sofa/bench, surrounded by children and friends. We met Gorab, the youngest, a tiny tiny baby. Sahishnu held an impromptu class and played games with the littlies. Asha and Vishaka are M-L’s other kids, each lovely. Chello? We were taken off to someone else’s house for more drinks and sweets and curried eggs! Namkeen everywhere too – various nuts, pulses etc. Usually spiced, always savoury. We were shown lovely Buddhas and Dr. Ambedkhar photos and statues. Chelleh? Back to M-L’s where we were served very spicy paneer curry and razmah, rice and puri! Farewells and photographs of all, I wrapped up in my shawl and was off. Prakash and I went to his house, in the streets of Ashok Nagar, we passed a wedding parade with Elephants and Camels!! At his house, dozens of relatives were singing and playing the tabla. I hung out with Pooja (his sister, to be wed the next day) and some girl cousins, and had my hands henna-ed. The ladies danced with bells on their ankles, but I was too shy. I stayed the night, sleeping on the floor from 2-4am when the house woke up. Heck it’s cold at 4am! Pooja’s wedding went well, they had lovely food, and an abundance of exuberant teenage boys on the dancefloor, who I managed to avoid. There were some lovely small children there, one who followed me around and asked me dozens of questions: ‘what’s your favourite flower/colour/name’ and remembered all the answers! Piled into the wedding car, and the ceremony carried on back at Prakash’s house, though I gave in and got a lift back to the flat around 2 or 3am.


Sujata’s wedding. Sujata’s ring ceremony: The Night of Infinite Patience! The Monday before the wedding, Sahishnu and I were invited to attend the gift-giving ceremony at the house of Sujata’s husband-to-be. The day wasn’t going well, Prakash’s bike had been impounded so we were quite late back, but we rushed off to Suvidya’s house, where things didn’t get much better. We didn’t leave the house for another hour and a half, and then it took at least another half an hour to load the van (with the gifts for Deepak’s family – the idea of dowry here, and of most things to do with weddings, is something I just have to accept that I will never really understand) in the chilly dusk, with clouds of mosquitos following me, me more than anyone else for some reason. Okay, so we (nine of us) piled into a car, which then wouldn’t start. We broke down. Repeatedly. We got lost. Got there eventually, but weren’t brought snacks or anything for ages. Monk was batty, chanting was... fuzzy? Groom was clumsy with the Buddha (erm, dropped the statue), and then the bartering started up again. Deepak’s family refused the gifts or something, we all trooped out, Sahishnu lost her shoes, found, reconciliation, more money? Sorted. Back up. The food was awful, and it then took us another 30 minutes to gather our carload together and get the driver into the car. We were so relieved to be rescued by Prakash from Shanti Nagar!

And That was only the pre-wedding... the actual wedding was the next Friday. The Day I was Nearly A Bridesmaid. Sahishnu was to conduct the ceremony, and we had been preparing for weeks. Everything was in place, flowers, rings, shrine cloth, Buddhas, bowls for water offerings, candles, incense, wedding scroll... we’d put a lot of time and effort into this! We arrived and set things up, and I was kidnapped by female relatives and eye-lined and lipsticked as I was for Prakash’s sister’s wedding also. I’m quite fond of the eyeliner, but not the fuscia lipstick and black lip-liner... ah well! Just go with it! Anyway, we were waiting again for hours and hours, and a whole bunch of monks turned up. The evening was slowly turning from anticipation and excitement to frustration for me and Sahishnu. We kind of just assumed that Suvidya would have sorted things with Deepak’s family, or at least told them that this would be a Pureland service! We made a valiant attempt to sustain the service, but when Deepak arrived with his entourage and we tried to get things underway, the monks all but stormed the stage and took over. We didn’t give up easily, but in the end we just gathered our things, collected our beautiful shrine together and left. I was so hurt and confused and ashamed, but at the same time honoured to have been a part of it, to be gathered into the family almost, but I was angry that things hadn’t worked. I was hurt by those who insulted our translators and hijacked our service, and I was really pissed off at all the energy and effort we put in! However, it turned out not to be entirely wasted, as when I got back from my travels, we held a Pureland Blessing ceremony in our shrine room.
We have a shrine room upstairs on the roof, and a bit of a balcony. We hold services in the room, and I teach and do my yoga there. Even now, the roof still catches some lovely warm sunshine which I was enjoying earlier today :-)


Teaching. My favourite class is the Buddhist class at Shanti Nagar, I love doing the meditations, and the stories about the Buddha, and the atmosphere of the class is wonderfully calm and nourishing. Minor setbacks have not shaken us completely. The classes at Natu Colony and Seelampur have both faded away, sadly each ending in unpleasant ways. The Natu classes were getting out of hand, and with no support from the community, it was hard to manage the unruly boys. We armed ourselves with a plan of keeping the class more occupied and moving quickly between tasks, breaking them up with games and songs, only to arrive at Natu Colony and be told ‘There is a ceremony today. I have cancelled your programme.’ by some bloke. We left, and haven’t been back. Seelampur is a largely Muslim area, so the weekend before Eid was very busy and we didn’t go, and the next week there was a ceremony in the temple. Missing two weeks meant that the next week, there were very few children. A handful of cheeky lads turned up after half an hour of our waiting. We ran the class with them, but when they came the next week and put off some of the other students (girls and littler ones) from coming, we asked the monks to help us re-establish the class. The next week, no help, and only three boys. We held the class, but during the lesson 1500 rupees vanished from Sahishnu’s bag, along with her phone. We’re not going back there either. Instead, we have some new classes forming in the next week, so we’ll see how they go.


Travelling! At first I was fairly afraid. I had been getting pretty depressed in Delhi, feeling alone and useless with the odd moment of smiles, but mostly fairly quiet and down. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to cope on my own and everything, but there was no need to fear! I spent an afternoon wandering around Jaipur on my own, and in the evening I ordered a Thali at my hotel’s restaurant, wandered over to a large table and asked to join them. Turned out to be a big family from Australia – Indian returnee traveller dad, first time India mum and five daughters – they were great people! Had a fabulous chat and lovely dinner, learned a fair bit, talked about Delhi, India and all sorts of stuff. The next day I went on a whirlwind daytrip around the city. I met a girl called Ivone from Argentina who was invited by the Indian Government to do some social security training in Noida! Now that’s the way to travel! After seeing some majestic forts and palaces, complete with intriguing restoration projects that seemed to be making it like new, not just displaying the original, I had a nap, and then had dinner with Ivone. We ended up banding together and heading to Pushkar together for Christmas, and carrying on to Jaisalmer! It was great to travel with someone, cheaper to share rooms for one thing, and Ivone is the most wonderful person, independant-minded, trusting, kind and understanding.

Pushkar was glorious. I was so busy enjoying myself that I filled my days from dawn to midnight. Packed with tourists and the most amazing shops I have ever seen, like a festival bazaar that goes on and on and on without end. Cows and wild boar and wading birds are all over too. Brahma dropped a lotus and thus was Pushkar born. Here you can really believe in legends and magic, the dawns are blissful, the mist flowing through the valley and curving around temple rooftops, children running and the skies filled with kites and sunshine. On Christmas morning I climbed the taller of two hills to reach the temple at the top, where I also found a record shop and an interesting sign (“oof your shoes”) and relaxed for the morning. The views from the temples are fantastic, I felt like reaching out and hugging the hills (no I wasn’t on drugs). On boxing day morning we climbed to the other temple, where we came across a handful of cheeky children collecting firewood from the desert. I shared some fruit with them, and played some games, they were just excited energetic children, but also cynical hard-worn and somehow adult-minded. It was a happy-sad time with them. And the sunsets... uplifting. Each one memorable, beautiful and unique. I was trapped by some pushy priests on the first day at sunset and performed a puja, was blessed with long life for my family, for a good husband and travels, given a saffron and rice bindi and a red and yellow wrist string, for a donation! Hah! There were so many tricks there. We stayed at the Pink Floyd hotel, which was Something Else! I didn’t know places like that still existed! A hammock hung outside my room, and the rooftop restaurant was calm and blissful, a cinema room showed cult films in the evening, and the owner was more than slightly gorgeous. The rooms were named after Pink Floyd songs (ours was ‘animals’) and the decoration of the place just... fit! It felt so good there, I can’t describe it in any better way than ‘it had really good vibes’ however hippyish that sounds! I only went to an internet cafe once in Pushkar, for half an hour – I was too busy being blissful!

Even the nightbus couldn’t shake my smile off for long; cold and nearly nightmarish, it would have been pretty awful on my own. The back of the bus was filled with local boys, alcohol and bhang. The road was dreadful – bumpy doesn’t come close to describing it – and it was So cold. Ivone and I were trying to keep warm and not fall out of our little compartment, I don’t know if I’d bother with a sleeping compartment next time, though it does give some privacy. Ah well, we survived, and managed to escape from the first hotel we went to, which was rubbish. Fortune scooped us up and dropped us in a brilliant hotel in the fort, 150 rupees a night for the room, we had views of the city, the dawn, the sunset, the palace, the lake, the fort, and the guys who owned it were amazing people. We were shown around the fort, shared food and drinks in the evenings, and were taken to the lake on motorbikes to feed the fish! I’ve never thought of myself as lucky before, but it was almost too good to be true. I could have stayed there for a long time. Jaisalmer shook me up and showed me the stars. I slept on the roof in the city, rising with the sun to chilly mornings and a cup of chai. Ivone and I went on a 2 night camel safari over New Years Eve, avoiding the hassle of big parties to sleep under the stars. I did a lot of thinking while swaying along on Mister Bean (my camel), ate the best chapattis in the world, and told stories and sang songs by the fire. Sunset on New Years Eve was perfect. I was so happy there, and right now I am so happy!

Coming back to Delhi was hard. I booked my ticket through an agent, and decided that I was ignored the stress of train travel and though the train was late, trusted others who said it would be on platform two. There were no guards to check with or anything, and I had no idea if I was in the right place or not, but just trusted what was going on and got on the train eventually. Turned out to be the right one, and I was in the right seat. Positive thinking can do wonders, but I suppose it helps if you Are on the right train! Fog delays had stopped many other trains all over the country for dozens of hours, so I was quite lucky that mine was only 3 hours late or so, though adding that to the 19 hour journey, I was glad to have some sandwiches and pastries with me! The train stopped a lot though the night, and there were some strange people on the train, soldiers and staring men, and also cockroaches and some awful smells coming from the toilet. It was very weird. There was also no-one to check where we were, and I had no idea when we would get to Delhi, or if mine was the last stop. I eventually asked some ladies in the morning ‘Kidar hai?’ (where?) at a station and was pleasantly surprised to find it was Sarai Rohilla – the station before the one I wanted! Coming into Delhi was hard though, the poverty by the railway tracks is shocking. I have no words for my emotions or thoughts as we came into the gray smoggy city.

In 12 days, I saw so much, felt so much, met so many people. I was inspired and recharged, as well as tried, tricked and tested a little too. I feel older and younger, and excited about the next few months :-)

Plunged back into Delhi life, I did shut down again a little bit, but I was expecting it so recovered quickly. On my second day back, we held the wedding blessing ceremony at the flat, and I was exhausted, though I did very little. I bounced back the next day though, with a sightseeing day to Qutab Minar, it’s beautiful, and a wonderful class with the Buddhist group at Shanti Nagar which lit up my smile again. Life is kushi!

[JANSARI DAYARAM HARILAL]

good morning.

[Kaspalita]

Thanks Sophie, it took me a while to read the full post, but I'm glad that I did. It sounds like quite a series of adventures you are having. It's really nice to be able to read about your experiences and your reactions, so thank you again,

namo amida bu