Rishikesh

Leaving Rishikesh was difficult. From the monastic stress-free life of the ashram to the narrow roads crowded with happy animals to the tiny restaurants that served heaven on plates, being back into the real world was daunting.

It is just that Rishikesh is magic, a place that does not follow the rules of nature. For starters, the sun rises and settles on one side of the sky; meaning, it does not travel a full semi-sphere. Thus, noon does not happen, since the sun is never all the way up. Another curious thing about the sky is that it has moonrising. I saw it myself, the bright moon come up from behind the mountains one morning.

There is no need of phones in Rishikesh. When you want to meet someone you just start walking and, sooner or later, you bump into him. Everyone there is happy: the sadhus that bathe their bodies covered in ash in mama Ganges and then cover themselves in ash again; the children that sell flowers for the numerous pujas; the bands and crowds that daily celebrate a wedding, a god, or anything; the tourists that found a place to rest from the frantic whole rest of India… Nobody eats meat, so the animals roam free and smile and the air is does not smell like grilled chicken but of sandal incense.

 

Laxman Jhula

But one morning it was time to say goodbye to the river color of jade, to the Rama and Laxman hanging bridges, to the friendly locals, to the ashram, to the “Starbucks” man and his herbal teas with honey, to the swamis, to the peaceful space where I regained my hope, and leave.