Que Sera Sera; Whatever, Delhi Delhi

My adventure in Delhi seems to have begun back in Varanasi. After I wrote that last blog posting I was tremendously hungry for something without curry, without dahl, without naan; something maybe to remind me of home. I walked around for a while and, as luck would have it, I found a pizza place right beside the banks of the ganges, secluded by potted plants, bamboo shoots, and vines. Real romantic for a dinner alone. After I ordered (a garlic pizza, of course, and a big bottle of non-fatal water) I sat quietly observing the night's religious practices: corpse burning, music, dancing, more swimming, etc. Then I noticed that one of the potted plants among the group was a stunningly large marijuana tree. The waiters took notice of my taking notice and for the rest of my time there I was under the watchful eye of the staff. Nervous from the terrible stories I have been told along the way both about tourist druggings and weed-related arrests (a life term in jail), and motivated by a confident drug-free (pro-meditation, pro-yoga, pro-healthfulness, pro-awareness) approach to life, I ate each slice of my pizza slowly; waiting for some unwanted side-affects to kick in. None did and I left the restaurant feeling a bit foolish. I sat with this feeling for a while by the river; reflecting on my time here and my growing love for this place and this adventure (with all of its highs and lows, its tremendous moments and its mundane moments, its confident feelings and its foolish ones too). I thought back on my time at the commune and looked for to my time at other ashrams and something clicked in me: I had planned this whole trip (three months doing both India and SE Asia) before knowing what I would find here, and since what I have found in each place is so tremendous that leaving each has been burdensome I had to make a change so as to salvage the journey and restore to it a greater freedom. As such I have dropped going to SE Asia. Though I apologize to Chelsea the most for this - as she was SE Asia's greatest advocate, and rightfully so - I also thank her the most for giving me a truth before I left that applies to this situation: "If you find somewhere you really love, stay there." I have found many such places and one such country, and so now this trip will be purely India. I left Varanasi the next afternoon with a huge smile and a stronger sense of direction. I had breakfast with some kids from Sacramento who, after returning from SE Asia for only a couple of weeks, supported my decision whole heartedly...then I had meditation with my Osho friends down the street and, looking at them, I further understood the importance of such a change: I took this trip into my hands and made it my own; its real now, not pre-crafted. Early the next morning I arrived in Delhi and confidently strided through Paharnganj's Main Bazaar street - like right out of a movie, with merchants and shops and ominously narrow streets and cows walking down one way streets with cars and rickshaws and people all trying to pass eachother and get ahead. I had chai and breakfast at a cute little mom-and-pop (more like pop-and-pop), reading my Lonely Planet (like everyone else in there) to find a good place to stay, rubbing my freshly shorn head (unlike everyone else in there...dreadlocks seem to be popular amongst dirty seemingly-angry israeli neo-hippies), dunking my sweet chaphati in my tea..yummy! I got a room fast as there are like one hundred in each building and all the owners are brothers somehow; then I was off for the day: I dropped off my laundry, I went to citibank, I took a long walk, I bought an awesome handkerchief...whatever. Delhi became magical the minute I met Valario (an Italian 22 year old) and he then introduced me to his new friend Andy (a 36 year old Australian, ex-self-made-millionare turned drug abuser/hardpartyer turned yoga-junkie/world traveler). Since that time I have paled around with these two for the last four days (except when I went to Agra). We have seen all the sites, gone to yoga together, done our own impromptu yoga sessions, had wonderful meals, chaced beautiful girls, purchased beautiful crap, stayed up all night telling stories, getting into all kinds of trouble...having so much fun. We did, as Andy put so well in one of our post-dinner chats, "whatever made us happy." In the time together Andy became more and more, as we got to know eachother, a wonderful friend: a phenomenal role model. Thats all I really can say about it, not only because some of the things we did are potentially incriminating, but more so because the experiences I had with him are stored safely in my heart, in a place where words mean nothing. Tonight, Andy and Valerio and myself had a really nice dinner (rooftop garden/swanky restaurant...cloth napkins!)with a 50 year old Italian artist who is living in southern India Andy met and connected to like I met and connected to Andy: Claudio. To sit with two generations of inspiring male role models (Claudio to Andy and Andy to me and Valerio)was indescribable: I smiled the whole time in the purest way. We must have sat there for hours, talking, drinking, eating, laughing, loving. Then late night chai around the corner, hugs and handshakes, and again I am on my own. But that is too simple: I am always on my own even when with such company, and also, I am never always on my own because I always have such company...all my life...all of you...so much love. I walked home through the ganj and took in the moon and came to the computer. I am so thankful to be alive, and also I am so at peace with the blessed life I have been given that (as I was saying to Claudio in our last moments together...until next summer, of course!)if I were to die tomorrow I would have no regrets, no doubts, nothing left...only love for what has been and what I have seen and who I have known and who I have loved and who has given me love and all of it...fucking all of it...its all. I dont mean to be too gushy, in fact I have tried to keep such things- personal things - to myself while I keep this blog strictly a retelling of events. I suppose I just had to vent a little. I continue to have an amazing time. I continue to see amazing things (the Taj Mahal is beyond words and I will post pictures as soon as I can). I continue to meet amazing people. I continue to find my words hoplessly shallow in the face of such substantial experience. Tomorrow I go to the Golden Temple in Amritsar; then to Dharmasala to kick it with the Dalai Lama; then Manali to do some yoga; then Leh to see the Himalayas; then who knows...? I should shut up now and go to sleep. Love, A

Making it to Varanasi: "Its like being on acid without any acid"

I cant quite find an internet cafe that is strong enough, technocomputationally, to allow me to post even a single picture in under ten minutes. So I am currently attempting to at least post a few of the better ones while I have the time. Enjoy! As for where I am: I am presently in India's holiest Hindu cities, Varanasi (southeast of Delhi). And, much to my own surprise, I am loving it here. Its filthy and crowded and smelly, but charming in a way...maybe its all of the spirituality in the air, or (more likely) something in the water. Varanasi is so holy because of a handful of reasons. Most importantly it rests on the Ganges; the mother of India! The ganges is amazingly beautiful and yet also incredibly disgusting (a statement about much of India itself): it is the most polluted body of water Ive ever seen and yet people flock to it throughout the day (thousands) to bathe, pray, do yoga, swim...but also dump their garbage, cremate their dead, or dump their dead like garbage. No joke. I took a boatride at 5am down the entire length of Varanasi to see the Ghats (temples that were constructed by kings throughout Indian history..gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous...and historic!), it was just me, my boatman Babu (a grizzly Indian who, underneath the grizzle, is a sweetheart) and the ganges at sunrise; amazing. As we passed the ghats people started showing up seemingly out of nowhere; stripping down, jumping in, soaping up, praising Vishnu (or Krishna or Buddha or the other 22 incarnations), playing, splashing, washing clothes, etc. Fine. But then the cows and buffallo show up and they do the same, only more deficating and less soaping. Then we passed a "burning ghat" where I saw, fo real, a body placed on a pyre and lit on fire while a crowd around it danced and shouted. Out of respect I took no pictures but that image was - for lack of a better way of putting it- fucking rediculous. But not the most rediculous/amazing thing I saw. After the burning passed by and I thought Id seen it all I noticed a large white floating mass in the water, "could it be one of the infamous ganges dolphins I had heard about" I asked Babu...he laughed (like a grizzled-sweethearted jerk) and as we approached I noticed it was a (again, apology) fucking corpse just floating there. A fucking corpse...like Ive seen dead bodies, errr and stuff, but bloated and floating! I wasnt scared, per se, just amazed that with all of this people were still brushing their teeth with the water. As we kept going I got more used to the idea of it all and a lesson that I had been learning about this whole trip finally solidified: its their world, not mine...their rules, their way of life...who am I to judge? I suppose Im really just a novice when it comes to thirdworld travel, because this understanding has been witnessed in those people Ive come across who are obviously seasoned, or at least more so than I. But its an important thing to figure out, that you almost dont even really exist here and you can use that to your advantage in ways that would otherwise be used against you. For instance, when I left Osho's commune I was tremendously sad because I had left the comfort of friends and the safety of community to again dive head-first into the chaos of India; a really poor country (economically). And upon diving I was really frustrated again with the whole place, the whole trip; much like how I was when I first got to Mumbai (which now I kinda wish I could spend more time in). I arrived in Aurangabad, after leaving Pune, and was immediately confronted with the same nuisances: rickshaws (more like trick-shaws)who take you everywhere you dont want to go and nowhere you do while charging 500% more, beggars who follow you around and moan and are all messed up in every imaginable way (think zombies...), child beggars who are mutilated or perform public acts of mutilation for what is the equivalent to a dime, and men (so many men) who you have to trust even though most of them lie blatantly. In Aurangabad I wanted to see the caves of Ajanta: buddhist temples and statues carved straight out of stone in the side of a mountain range/cliff/chasm. It was a three hour bus ride but luckily I met this really nice, super smart 24 year old from Bogata (looked totally Indian) who is finishing his travels before going to Yale for a phd in economics! We walked around together and chatted (like I have been doing almost every step of the way with some surprisingly awesome world-friend)and I learned a lot from him (about Indian traveling, how to deal with certain things, how to maximize a good time, etc.) and he from me (about America and Osho and how to deal with certain other things, etc.). The next day I just woke up late, still exhausted from not really sleeping for 27 hours, and read and wrote in my journal and meditated and took a walk...it was really nice to have nowhere to go and nothing to really do. I decided though, since there was actually nothing in Aurangabad left to do, to leave a day early. At the train station I was again pushed to the limit: a two hour line in 90deg heat with fifty-plus sweaty men ontop of me trying to cut in front/steal my ticket/rub up against me/breath dowm my next! I would have killed everyone in the room for a cold Duff beer just then and there. But I didnt. Instead I imagined the killing, swallowed it down (Freud would have a field day with me), and got my ticket and left. I didnt get robbed, I didnt get harassed (really)...it all happened, but the Indian way...not the American way. And then I began to realize the American way only works in America, so, again, who am I to think to change this system (however annoying it is). The same thing happened at the Manmad junction, where I waited for 5 hours for a 23 hour train to Varanassi. Men swarmed around me with every step I took (like flies, which abound here too!)and stared, stared, stared. I just kept to myself though, wrote in my journal, read my book, and moved on...with less urges to kill bubbling up inside me. And, in a way, I was rewarded for my patience: two nice students from Delhi approached me and we chatted (same topics: America, girls, India, girls, movies with girls in them, etc.). And again, it was nice. More so because in talking to them I learned that they too, even as Indians themselves, hated the same things about Indian which I did. Surely they are educated and more financially secure than the lying-mutilated-child-zombie-rickshawdrivers are, but something about hearing them gave me more to think about. And boy did I have time to think about it...23 hours in a small metal and plastic bed. Luckily again I was blessed to be seated with a family; three thirty/forty-something year old brothers from Northeastern India, working class cloth traders, taking their niece home from checking out a college in Pune. We talked almost the entire time, over chai and lentils, and after the first hour they treated me like a son: looking over my plans to make sure I knew/saw the best of everything, talking to me about "family" and its importance, teaching me about Indian cuisine and language. They even got mad at me when I went off with a twentysomething to have a cigarette and hang on the outside of the train (awesome..., well, not the cigarette so much...), soooooo cute! When I got off the train at Varanasi, and after talking out the totality of my naive-sounding perturbances with Indian culture (re: above) and being given a solution to each of the "problems", I approached the rickshaw driver with a large bat of confidence/assuredness: now my problems were gonna have a problem with me! And, to be expected, it went plesantly...the driver did exactly what I wanted, no lying, no taking me somewhere else, and he only charge me 100% mark up (4$ to go nearly 8 miles...). I felt soooooo good. And now, in this dirty, smelly, trixy place, I feel more capable of having a good time, at my own pace, in my own way, but in someone elses (third) world. Thats maybe why the Ganges boatride was so relaxing, despite its excessive morbidity. After the boatride I went for a walk. Funny enough I found a small Osho meditation room where four men were just sitting, two asleep. They were so happy for me when I told them my story (about which they asked for every small detail) and I wound up spending a lot of the day with them; even getting to do some Kundalini meditation (my favorite when at the commune) with the owner of the place later in the day. When I told them about being a sanyasin they all lit up with happiness; that same kind from the people at the celebration; the kind that says, "welcome home". It was such a blessing. I told them I needed a haircut (my hair has gotten too long and nappy to deal with this kind of heat) and they promptly brought me to the barber next door. For $2 I got my head cleanly buzzed (a 1, so its short but "nice and neat"), my back rubbed, and my joints cracked (neck, fingers, shoulders, etc.). The guys at the shop didnt know what to do with me at first, but because of this new energy I was giving off (an energy of acceptance of Indian culture and not an energy of annoyed defiance)they quickly got to liking me...maybe even a little too much: telling me about their daughters, all of whom are ready to marry (at age 14!...giggity giggity goo), about becoming a barber, etc. After that I took a walk through the chaos and it felt so nice and different from before. I walked along the ganges for a while, passed some of the ghats, and eventually found a wonderful handmade toys store. I got some thangs and am having them shipped home; nice trinkets from around India...the guy is a professional scavenger and has provided the traveller (me) with a one-stop "whatdidjagetmefromIndia" shop. That felt good too. As for where I go next, it will be Delhi, then Agra to see the Taj Mahal, then more north. The plans are unfolding with every step...as it feels it should be I suppose. So all of the pictures that I wanted to post have just finished uploading, and my story is over...for now. Im going to go eat some grub. As always, with love...

How I have amounted to nothing....

Two years ago, when I took on the challenge of writing a senior thesis I wanted more than anything else to synthesize ideas and theories I had discovered about the world (from the most microcosmic to the most macrocosmic)into a single explanation; a single understanding of what was wrong, why it was so, and how, through a grand-scale awareness, we as a planet could change: we could become enlightened. It was a lofty challenge and whether I nailed it or not, it was just a first attempt and a noble one all the same. Through crafting it over the course of a year I began to see myself skilled in an art of connecting; hardly an obvious/marketable trait but one I love in myself and have loved to watch grow from simple teen-angsty over analysis into what is today spiritual dedication. The ideas/theories proposed in my thesis have not changed, they have only grown richer as my knowledge of the world grows deeper. From this stream I have entered into a larger river. Osho's ashram is nothing more than a commune, or a kibbutz, where people work and live as proof of a different way: their is no religiosity as such, just pure spirituality through a deep connection to "natural existence": working and playing and loving and meditating as human animals; vessels of pure energy. Its a beautiful thesis in and of itself. What it proposes (as did my thesis before I ever came here)is that the human animal evolved a trait which no other animal had: awareness (of self, of his/her mortality, of a larger world,and of being a different kind of animal). With that awareness, fueled (as I propose) by a fear of death, the human created a reality ontop of the natural existence in which he was "forced" to live and called it, definitively, reality: a reality of logic and law and science and culture and religion, etc. The foreman for this masive construction project was/is/and always will be the ego. And as the ego is insatiable (if not controlled by a stronger awareness of self) it will keep constructing indefinately, always wanting more. Today one cannot help but marvel as the human once again has begun a new construction project - fed up with the reality he created before, hungry for something even more controllable, more immortalizing - and so, with computers, he has begun to creat a virtual reality. Look at google earth, or second life, or myspace, or wiki, or come to Bombay where a child is hungry and begs but can use his cellphone to call over more beggars, or watch reality television for two seconds. The great irony, and the most important connection to see (as I tried to make clear in my thesis) is that all of this "progress" just takes us further and further from our most natural essence; we loose connection to the energies that bind all living things and when we loose connection we get into trouble. To regain this connection, only possible through authentic daily meditation, is to attain enlightenment; to re-member oneself with one's self; to reconnect; to return to child-like innocence. And who in history has been enlightened? No christian, no buddhist, no jew, no muslim: no religious person.But Christ was, and Buddha was, and Mohammad was, and others. This is Osho's best-made point: dont be a christian, be a christ. We are all naturally enlightened, its nothing to attain...you just have to remember it by going inside. I wanted to put all of this forward because last night I took sanyas: dedicating myself to my self; re-membering my natural essence and committing myself to meditation. The ceremony was the most beautiful event of my life (thus far) and all of the love that passed through me only reminded me of how lucky I am in life. In the main auditorium (a huge marble pyramid; check osho.com for pictures) the whole commune came out (willingly, and out of love)to celebrate just the idea of taking sanyas; as it is the core of existence, the core of enlightenment/awareness. We all sat in a circle and meditated together; then my name was called "Bodhi Arnava" and I went into the center; with one hundred plus people sitting around me, some I knew before, some I was close with, most I just met that night. We meditate for a while, listening to the silence around us and within us and then Osho begins to speak (its a recording, of which there seem to be an endless amount) about sanyas and everything I said above: but again, it is to listen to a great wealth of knowledge, a human encyclopedia, but a human all the same. Then he tells a joke to lighten the mood, and out of pure coincidence the joke he told was this: a jewish boy from New York tells his father that he wants to go to India to find himself. The father says, why? its dirty and youll get sick. The boy says, yeah but I could just the same get killed crossing fifth avenue. The father says, ok but youll worry your mother. So the boy says,everything worries my mother. So the father says, ok but if you go youll just be wasting time and youll wind up amounting to nothing. So the boy says, Im glad you understand. After the joke and everyone laughed hard, knowing my particular storyand the coincidence at hand, a live band begins to play and everyone dances in celebration. Everyone, and I mean everyone, came up to me with smiles and hugs and kisses and says the sweetest most genuine things: Happybirthday...or welcome home...or congratulations, etc. Its so beautiful and I was so happy; feeling so at home, so connected, so understood; not because I have surrendered something tothe commune as a means of becoming a member of something larger (as is a cult) but rather by just being me, authentically, and in my self reconnecting to the larger concentration of energy within and thus the larger concentration of energy without. Then another person who is taking sanyas does the same thing and for two hours this went on. So wonderful. It was just such a nice way to conclude myexperience here. I leave on Monday and have decided against Calcutta, as the rains have brought massive flooding. SO Instead I make myway more north to the himalayans for a couple of weeks. Im so f-ing psyched its rediculous. Ok. So thats it. Just a great two weeks, a great last few months, a great last few years, a great last few lives. I say this now only so that it may be heard: enlightenment is not some high point along the road, its making the journey stage by stage...in awareness...in love. This place is a great place to come on that journey, but its just a place all the same. With love, Arnava

Taking Sanyas, playing Zennis, and heading off to Calcutta

So after my three days in the luxury hotel were up my plans to head south to Goa fell through. Thank god. As the monsoon heads north, my heading south would be disastrous and a waste of time. So, I decided to stay here for a couple of days longer to sort it all out. In that time, I began meditating four-five times a day for about an hour each: sometimes just sitting silently, sometimes doing crazy dances, sometimes breathing routines, sometimes screaming out my emotions,sometimes playing tennis with great awareness (zennis they call it, I just like to play 80 year old Indian men) so on and so on. Doing so much meditation has opened my eyes and my heart to a great many things about life and self and happiness; as well, Osho, as a Zen master is one of the most inspiring teachers I have ever known: a mix of Bill Cosby and Richard Zoffness, wrapped in brown skin and white hair, with the most calming voice. Mind you he has been dead for almost thirty years, but you can walk two feet here without hearing a recording or watching footage or reading his work. He is brilliant and hilarious and warm; but still, just a man: I dont follow him as others do here, Im simply inspired by him. And so, in my staying longer (what has now been a week longer) I have really grown in amazing ways; or rather, solidified a growth that has been happening for some time. To consecrate this rebirth, in buddhist tradition, one takes sanyas: a renaming, given by a master to a disciple, so that the disciple can go on to become a master of self. To do this I had to do a lot of meditation and work closely with this brazilian tarot master, Goloka. He and I have given me the name Bodhi Arnava, which means Sea of Awareness. Its quite beautiful and the whole process has been wonderful. Certainly, you can still call me David, as that is still part of the whole name (Swami Bodhi Arnava David Laurence Asen),but I will regard myself as Arnava. The celebration of this, like a buddhist barmitzvah, is on Friday and afterward I will go out with friends and say my goodbyes and leave the following day. After two weeks here it will be very hard to leave; I have made great loving relationships here and I have learned a lot and every moment has been wonderful in a way. But I must keep moving; despite the beautiful Indian girl, the amazing friends, and blessed time I am leaving behind. From here I move onto Ajanta: a holy buddhist site where there are amazing caves to meditate in. Then I keep moving east to Calcutta, though I dont plan to stay there long. Near there is the place where Buddha became enlightened, and I will sit (as so many pilgrims do)under the same tree and meditate. Then I keep moving north to Delhi, stopping along the way. From delhi I may go north more if I have time, but I want to spend at least a week and a half in Nepal; so calculating is hard. Then from Nepal to Thailand and the rest is up in the air.
I suppose I have discovered something in the meditation I have learned here which my hyperanalytical mind really benefits from. Better than drugs of escape, social performing, or simple anxieties and worries and projections, meditation is an addiction of entering the self; not running away from it. This naming, while weird to you all Im sure, is merely the way to dedicate myself to that. If I said I got a tattoo you wouldnt be surprised, and like a tattoo Im using an external change to reveal an inner finding. I am still me, just happier, wholer, and a lot more tan.
Wishing you all my best, with a clear mind and a calmed heart...Arnava.

OSHO's Ashram

Ok, so now that i have some time to describe more, here it goes: I wake up in a five star hotel (which, mind you costs next to nothing in American dollars), its 6am. I shower and get my day bag together and put on my maroon robe over just my calvins and my sandals. I take the gorgeous marble elevator down stairs where a marble path leads me to my veggie breakfast: cornflakes, a bannana, tea. I sit and eat under a beautiful canopy of trees next to a giant black pyramid (surrounded by a black marble moat) where I will go at the end of the night for the Evening Meeting. I walk through beautifully manicured gardens, surrounded by gorgeous small little houses where I might find a post office or the bank or toilettries. But between these buildings are places just to sit and meditate: each different in their look and function. I pass many man made lagoons with stone buddhas sitting around, under more canopies, waterfalls, lush upon lush upon lush. Everything is open and natural and surrounding a white marble circular space where there are hourly dance parties; not to disco, but to let your body experience the music. Everyone I meet is smiling and friendly, of different colors and are named things like Surio, Goba, Shanti. Everything is well labeled, so no getting lost (goes against the whole premiss of finding yourself), and eventually I make it to Osho's mansion. Inside glass doors is a white marble library/garden/mirror thing; think Fortress of Solitude. But also in the library a stretch Rolls is parked; all white of course. Further inside is the silent meditation area: all white marble, a fountain, a crystal chandellier, a painting of Osho. We sit for an hour silently. I leave. Maybe Ill go to the gorgeous lagoon-pool, or play some Zennis (dont laugh, thats what they call it). Or maybe Ill go to another amazing building and do another amazing kind of meditation. Today, I danced in meditation: not with anyone, not like at a club; just letting the music take over. But then during this, suddenly a gong, and everyone starts speaking gibberish: intentionally to channel out all elements of the mind. Then another gong fifteen minutes later (thats fifteen minutes of gibberish and chaotic jumping) and we start shaking, then we go limp and drop to the ground. Another kind of meditation I blow my nose rapidly and hard, then I dance, then chanting. So on and so on. It may sound crazy, but it all makes you feel great by the end of the day. Inner walls are destroyed and everyone is just so happy. I like to do two hours of silent sitting because it makes all the other crazy shit better; but some like to just to do the shaking or dancing, etc. Everyone is pretty at peace; some have been here for months, weeks. So, really I never feel judged. I read a lot and write in my journal a ton; then the evening meeting where we do more crazy meditation stuff and watch Osho's old lectures. As crazy as he may seem, what he says is smart; and hes got the library to prove it. So I take it for what its worth and leave the rest for the loonies. But cynicism has no place here so I really am just trying to go with the flow. Im learning a lot about myself being here, so maybe thats good. And Im sure by Thursday when Ill leave, Ill actually miss this paradise. I recommend it to anyone and though I cant take pictures, I hope Ive painted a mildly accurate picture of it with words; which Osho would say are meaningless...Oy! Anyways, I dont want to be on this mind-box for too long; I need to go find the inner me...I couldve sworn I left him back in the water-flute room. Eh well! Next Im off to Goa, hopefully to meet up with Dave Maitt and his crew, then who knows. Wherever I go though, I will take from this gorgeous haven a better understanding of meditation and its importance in my life. Namaste, beloveds!

So I shaved my head and joined a cult...

Ok, I didnt shave my head; but I am at a meditation retreat in Pune, India (Osho's Meditation Retreat to be exact) and I am wearing a maroon robe during the day and a white one at night. I do like 5 hours of meditation per day; some silent, some screaming, some dancing, some walking. This particular retreat is so gorgeous its hardly describable (check out osho.com for pictures since Im not allowed to take any really here and I cant post what I have yet); think Jurassic Park meets Madonna's Bedtimes stories video meets buddhism and is run by the W hotel. Its pricey, but not even really and I figured for three days I could use the relaxation. Basically I left Mumbai in a hurry. After myself and my dutch friend, Joost, almost got capsized off the coast of this gorgeous island, Elephanta (with all of these ruins and monkeys and madness) things began to go downhill for my relationship with Mumbai; almost got robbed by a four year old, then a ten year old, then a who-knows-how-old, didnt want to travel around a city much longer, and was just generally pooped from all the madness. So I decided to board a train south on my way to the beautiful city of Goa, where there are never any troubles...or at least very few (i hope). Along the way I stopped in Pune (another crazy city) and stayed one night in a cute little cottage. Then I came here to Osho and dont want to leave. I have to go on a walking meditation now but Ill write more later.

Dunday, Duesday, Densday....Daturdaaaaay...

So Im finally in India; Colaba, Mumbai to be exact. Its crazy and exciting and like nothing Ive ever seen before, or smelled for that matter. The flights were a good prep time for me because they were long and boring and gave me plenty of time to mentally prepare; that, and I saw Freedom Writers on the plane...finally! When in Frankfurt I met, and got drunk with, these really nice kids from Delhi. One of them goes to the University of North Dakota at Fargo, so I had a good laugh about that and he had a good laugh about my ignorance about India...especially when I showed him all of the needless crap I brought. Another 8 hours later I was in Mumbai, and like walking face first into a brick wall, I met India heat first. But its not just heat as in hot; its heat as in thick with smells and flavors. Luckily my hotel sent a cabbie for me and so for the next hour I was practically bumber car-ing it through the city. Finally I got to a bed, at three am, and, of course, I couldnt sleep. I stayed up watching awesome Indian news and dance videos while I wrote and read and planned the next couple of moves. All of this is boring, Im sure, but its exciting when youre all alone with yourself; because each moment, even the most mundane, is filled with revelatory thought...ok, maybe not revelatory, but thought all the same. So now Im in the heart of the city, and truly, there aint no love; especially not for the poor or sick or animal. Its brutal out there and how they stand it all under that enormous sun boggles the mind. I saw this beautiful monument, The Gateway to India, where the British colonists first landed. But still, its surrounded by filth and the water is toxic. Not surprisingly I also found the Louis store...and no I didnt go in. Ill probably stay here another day or so; but really there is little here to actually do, its too hectic and city-like and kind of maddening. So, Ill move on soon to Pune where there is an ashram I really want to spend time in. From there Ill move south to Goa and enjoy the beaches for like a week, which is the amount of time I have been told to spend there. After that who knows? Its weird because when I think about the fact that I have three months I can find myself feeling kinda lonely and scared and so forth, but then I think that about how much there is to see and experience and I feel much better, if not a little rushed to get it all in.