The Himalayan rain brings us all things.
Quietude. Clarity. Inner contemplation. Surfacing confusion. Cleansing.
It is much like the feeling of hearing thunder and anticipating lightning. Everything is in this tentative exciting balance.
The baba's and the sadhu's on the streets with their fingers brandishing red powder in the general
direction of your forehead. Some beg, some graciously accept 10 rupees in exchange for a small blessing.
The cows. On your doorstep. On other people's doorsteps. In your way. In somebody elses's way. Their
wafting morning digestions decorating the walkways. Their freshly licked fur shining beneath shop lights in the
alleways.
Motorbikes. Weaving between the cow excretion, the baba's, the cows and the tourists. Never failing to lightly bump into people as they move along; beeping all the while that they do so.
Us. Somehow managing to sidestep all of the above, gleefully trotting on the uneven surfaces, miraculously avoiding cow shit, dodging a holy man's searching finger, a school kid asking for sweets, the motorbikes and scooters constantly on your tail. This is not a place to be oblivious. Awareness is practically forced upon you!
Rishikesh is like an International Yoga & Meditation College. Everyone is learning here. Everyone has their mindbodysoul sinking into some or other intriguing and enriching esoteric modality. I pursued Holsitic Massage incorporating Ayurvedic techniques and reflexology (acupressure). Other's pursued an exhausting array of yoga streams, meditation techniques, emotional body language talks, satsangs, you name it.
The atmosphere of learning is unique and powerful and it feels a privelege to be immersed within it. It's a motivation to continue to learn, expand and fill life with those things that speak to the passionate parts of you, motivating you to pursue, to seek , to listen, to teach and to live.
