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My Spiritual Journey, India: Day 5

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This morning I thought I was dreaming when I glanced over at my alarm clock. It was 4:00 A.M. when I was awakened by the faint ringing of cell phone. Its always an unsettling feeling out when the phone rings that early. Not to mention, I’m sharing a room with five others–which is normal behavior in Indian culture. It was my husband, Rick on the phone. His father has pancreatic cancer, so I immediately assume he may be calling with some sort of update on the progression of his disease or worse news. With no light on, I’m frantically feeling around my night stand, moving my hand back and forth searching for my phone. I find it finally next to my water bottle that I knock over and it drops onto the tile floor with a loud thump. Thankfully, I didn’t wake anyone. Quietly, I text Rick back and at the same time am trying to cover the bright light that’s illuminating from my cell phone. He responds back and thank the good Lord, his father isn’t worse. Rick was just feeling lonely. I remind him to check the world clock next time he calls so as not wake everyone in the room. I’m laying wide awake now. I can’t fall back a sleep. We have quite a few people sharing the bathroom this morning, so I might as well get up brush my teeth and wash up before my walk. It’s early morning and still dark outside when Manny, Surekha and I are off for our three-mile walk. It’s really baffles me how India has such extremes living conditions–you’re either very wealthy or poverty stricken. As we start our morning walk, we’re in a gated community with two guards standing at the entrance. There are so beautiful homes and roaming stray dogs. There is one that has puppies and my heart aches for her. I can’t stop wondering the likelihood of those puppies surviving. We cross the road and we’re in an entirely different neighborhood, one of horrific poverty. There is a bull standing on the corner eating garbage. I can’t help but wonder how he got this huge disgusting sore on his backend. Walking along I get people who just stare at me like I have three heads. I think maybe they haven’t seen a Caucasian woman because there a a handful who come close to me and just stare. I bow my head and greet them with ‘namaste.’ They smile at me with a look of surprise that I even acknowledged them at all. Manny speaks Hindi so he asked a man assembling cow pies if we could take his picture. The man is so thrilled, he poses with a smile from ear to ear! The townspeople are all active doing their chores and work. There’s a man milking a cow, a woman sweeping the sidewalk and cows and dogs roaming freely. I’m noticing everything in India seems to be one extreme to another–polar opposites or is it in perfect balance.

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My Spiritual Journey, India: Day 3

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Early this morning, I went for a three mile walk near the Ashram. There are no street names, so the townspeople give directions off the cuff; “turn right at the end of the street, look for the blue house, then pass about ten more houses and you’ve reached your destination.” Oddly, it works. There is such extreme poverty, it left me speechless. On one street there are starving cows and dogs roaming free, eating garbage. The cows in India are considered sacred, yet when they’re old, people set them free and most often, they starve to death. In my mind, it’s better to put them down, but like so many other cultures, they’re attitude toward death is different than ours. Their attitude toward life can be, too. As I’m walking next to this open field, a car rushes past almost touching my arm. I’m forced to step onto the field when I notice a man pooping, holding his clothing out of harm’s way with one hand and swatting the flies away with his other hand. His house is made of blankets and there is so much garbage scattered everywhere, I can barely see the ground. I smell this disgusting odor. At first, I thought it was the garbage, then my nose led me to a low brick wall with twenty or so cow pies lined up across the top. I did my best to wipe the look of disgust off my face and asked what they use them for. It turns out that cow manure is quite a commodity. In Africa, India and other underdeveloped countries, cow pies are used for mosquito repellant, fertiliser, a replacement for firewood, insulation for clay huts go keep the cold at bay and in this case, because of the high methane content, it is used to produce biogas to generate heat and electricity. The poverty here tugs on your heartstrings, then you turn the corner and there’s beautiful homes that display the names of the people who live in them: doctors, surgeons, bankers, etc. In the major cities in the United States, you can often walk from the ghetto to the upper crust homes in a few blocks, but seeing such horrific poverty right next great wealth is baffling and quite unsettling. It’s 8:00 pm and I’m totally jet lagged. My head keeps bobbing during prayers. Everyone sits on the floor, very close to each other. So close that I’m feeling just a wee bit uncomfortable. I have my eyes shut and am taken aback by this woman’s screams and groans. She’s on her hands and knees, raging and bending her elbows as if she’s cursing the statue of Prabhuji Ramlal Maharsaj. She stands up and spins around a few times and goes into another room once occupied by the Guru and falls to the floor. I know this is a tranced state called samadhi, however I’ve never seen this taken to such extreme in America. Later, I was told that when the kundalini rises, if an individual isn’t properly prepared when this happens, sometimes, you get unusual responses. Mental illness being one of them.
cow eating garbage in India
cow pies in India
dog on street in India

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