Rishikesh

Rishikesh is located on the Ganges River, where it flows out of the Himalayas.  It has always been considered a holy spot and is now known as the yoga capital of the world.  By law it is a vegetarian city and no alcohol is sold. 

Rishikesh resembles Dharamsala to some degree in that it is very much a tourist town with narrow streets and hundreds of shops.  But whereas Dharamsala was predominately Vajrayana Buddhist, Rishikesh is predominately Hindu.  In Rishikesh, unlike Dharamsala, there appeared to be at least as many Indian tourists as foreigners.  Both Dharamsala and Rishikesh had the highest density of massage therapists I have ever seen — even more than Austin.  In Rishikesh there were yoga studios and ashrams everywhere.

The west side of the river is the more urban side.  The east side can be reached only by footbridge.  This footbridge is not only used by pedestrians but also by motorcycles, bicyclists, monkeys, cows, donkeys, etc.  Happily the result is that the east side streets have a minimum of cars on the streets.  When I arrived I cross the bridge to go to my east side hotel, the Jaipur Inn.

Jaipur Inn

The ancient myth of the Ramayana, about Rama the incarnation of Vishnu, explains that Lakshmana, the younger brother of Rama, crossed the river Ganges at the exact point of this bridge, using a jute rope bridge. 

Rishikesh is a place where all the Vedic arts and sciences are practiced and sold, including ayurveda (health), yoga (spirituality), yagyas (Vedic fire rituals), bhakti and devotion (temple worship),  ghandarva Veda (music), and jyotish (astrology). 

Jyotish

For most of my life I was a complete skeptic about astrology and thought people who talked about their “signs” were dimwits.  Then in the 1990s, a friend told me about an Indian astrologer, a jyotishi named Sharma, a professor of astrology at Benares University, who was one of Maharishi’s advisers and was visiting Austin.  I decided to schedule a consultation.  Couldn’t be much harm.   Mr. Sharma turned out to be extremely old, almost blind, and unable to speak English.  On his hands were a dazzling array of jeweled rings.  Next to him was a middle-aged Indian engineer who was operating a computer with an astrology program and serving as Sharma’s translator.   A friend took notes.  I provided him with my birth date, time and place and Sharma proceeded to tell me in accurate detail all about my parents, the fact that I had one sister, all the major events in my life.  He accurately told me what my concerns were now and gave me advice on how to handle them.  I barely had said a word and my mind was blown.  All my life I had been struggling with major decisions and it turns out it was foreordained in the stars.  It gave me an awareness of the immense, unfathomable intelligence of the universe that the stars and planets would be arranged in such a way as to correspond to decisive events in every human being’s life. 

My planets are generally really good, with my current problem being my moon, which jyotishi Henry Herzberger recently told me is a bit dirty.  Jyotish offers solutions to planetary problems.  The best solution consists of mantras to use in meditations.  Henry had given me a moon mantra, which has helped but certainly not removed a chronic tension that exists in my neck.  Another remedy can be wearing gems or other materials. 

First Hours in Rishikesh

After checking in to my hotel, I started walking the streets.  I happened upon a jewelry and murti store and casually referenced jyotish.  The owner stopped what he was doing, took my hand and brought me across the plaza to a jewelry store and suggested I talk to the owner.  After brief introductions, the owner asked to see the palm of my hand, pronounced my moon to be weak, said it would cause problems of coughing and other throat and neck problems, and recommended a moonstone, which he said I should dip in the Ganges and put on my necklace on Monday.   After purchasing the moonstone, I found a great bookstore and purchased some books, and then walked into a massage shop and got a great ayurvedic massage.  After the massage I went to Ganga Beach restaurant where while watching the Ganges flow by and a cow enjoy her meal across a walkway, had the best meal I had yet had in India – cheese and olive pakoras along with Kashmiri pulao and fresh papaya juice.   

Sadhus

I had expected to see some sadhus in Rishikesh.  Since the earliest of times, sadhus have lived in the Himalayas and found succor in Rishikesh.  The term sadhu is used to broadly describe anyone who renounces the worldly househoulder life and devotes him or herself to a spiritual ascetism.  There are more than 60 sadhu sects in India. 

Some ascetics are swamis and there are dozens of swami orders with widely varying beliefs.  Swami Srikantha Bharati, who I met in Bangalore, had decided to become a swami at the age of 90.  Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s teacher was a swami, and had been chosen to head the principal math or monastery of the Himalayas, Jyotir Math. 

Some sadhus are called Naga Babas and refuse to wear any clothing at all.  There are the Aghori sadhus, who I mentioned earlier, and who eat meat and sometimes even human flesh.  There are male sadhus who worship Krishna by becoming Krishna’s consort or lover, dressing as women and taking on female names.  And yes, some women are also sadhus, but they are far outnumbered by men.  It is estimated that there are now about 5 million to 10 million sadhus in India.

Besides getting the opportunity to live a life 100 percent devoted to yoga and other spirtual matters, there are other reasons for people choosing to become sadhus.  Becoming a sadhu is one of the few escapes from the sometimes crushing burdens of rule-bound Indian society and its heavy load of family and work obligations.  It can be an escape for people who may be unmotivated or unable to fit in.   For example, if you are gay in India, traditionally you have had no place in society.  Gays have tended to live with their families as adults but have not been allowed to bring their lovers or partners home to stay, in contrast to hetero men who bring their wives into the family home.  People can have many reasons for becoming a sadhu and the choice to live a sadhus life is not necessarily permanent.   Some crooks and scoundrels have always taken refuge as sadhus, sometimes through formal initiations and sometimes just by donning ochre robes as a disguise.  As one sociologist put it: “How … can one differentiate between a Sadhu turned cheat and a cheat posing as a Sadhu?” [B.D. Tripathi Sadhus of India (2007)]

Rishikesh indeed was full of sadhus.  And of course it was impossible for me to tell the fakirs from the spiritually advanced.   I only donated to the female sadhus, trusting the better nature of females and speculating that if a female sadhu was a fraud, at least she might be begging to support a family.

Sadhus hanging out with begging bowls

Some of the sadhus I saw were smoking hash or marijuana out of pipes.  This is an ancient and common practice. 

One swami I photographed on the footbridge turned his head to avoid the photo.  He was carrying a metal pot, presumably with his fire.  Some sadhus as part of their ancient custom focus their practice on fire rituals and continuously carry fire with them everywhere they go.  Buddha initially lived with and engaged in austerities with fire-bearing sadhus.  Fire, which transmutes grosser elements to finer ones, has always had a central place in the Vedas.  The first word of the Rig Veda is Agnim, a reference to the fire deva.  Vedic yogis have recognized that the “precise moment when man recognized fire was the moment of his greatist insight.  This must have then led to a chain reaction, because after fire there was no stopping man.” [S. Gyanshruti et al. Yajna (2006), quoting Swami Satyasangananda]  This Vedic perspective is supported by the work of modern anthropologists who have concluded that fire was discovered and harnessed by pre-homo-sapian hominids and that fire and the eating of cooked food not only effected and transformed the evolution of the human digestive system but allowed the human brain to grow to its current size.  See, e.g., R. Wrangham Catching Fire.  Fire is both the earliest and most transformative technology humans have ever discovered.

At one point I went to an ATM machine where there was a long line and was surprised to see a sadhu standing at the front of it.  He saw me and shouted out: “If you give me your card and your pin codes, I will get your money for you!”  When I declared to him that I would respectfully decline his offer, he motioned me to cut in front of the line and laughed and laughed, seemingly thinking his joke was the funniest thing possible.   

Hanging Out

I loved Rishikesh.  The atmosphere was peaceful and wonderful.  Lots of good food easily at hand and cheap.  So many things to see and do at my fingertips.  It was the only place in India where I didn’t feel any drive to “do” things but was content to just hang out with minimal plans.  I didn’t bother to go up into the mountains.  I didn’t bother to hike to the source of the Ganges, to hike to see Tatwalla Babas’ cave or visit any temple. 

friendly cow

 

Con artist in Hanuman costume

 Modern Ruins: the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi ashram

One day I decided to walk a mile or so past the shops along a road through open fields to the site where the Beatles had meditated at the feet of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in February and March of 1968.

 

The site was in use long after the Beatles left but there was ongoing litigation over the ownership of the tract and ownership rights.  The Indian national park service claimed the land and ultimately prevailed, causing the ashram to be abandoned. 

Awaiting me near the entrance to these ashram ruins was a swami.  He was available as a guide for a small charge.  I gratefully took him up on it and he gave me a very informative tour. 

Entrance

The Beatles composed more than 40 songs here including almost all of the songs in the White Album.  Meditating along with the Beatles were Mia Farrow (recently divorced from Frank Sinatra), Donovan, jazz flutist Paul Horn, members of the Beach Boys, and journalist Lewis Lapham. 

Meditation huts or "caves"

John Lennon's cave: #9

Bungalo where the Beatles and their families lived

Downstairs in Beatles bungalo; they had their own kitchen and one shared bathroom

Ashram post office

Shiva lingam

Large facility with hundreds of rooms for meditators

 

Water tanks on roof of highrise

 

Although overgrown and unkempt, the ashram ruins are filled with beautiful flowering plants, mango trees and ayurvedic herbs

Entrance to building built for yogic flying; shrine purportedly held Buddha statue

Hall for yogic flying.

Hallway off each side of yogic flying hall, with rooms for sleeping and meditating

Foreground is helipad atop yogic flying hall

Homa pit for fire yagyas.

View of the Ganges from the ashram

Exiting the ashram

When I quizzed the guide about his swami-hood, he professed to not understand me.  Even when I wrote down my question about his “math” (monastery), he professed not to be able to read or understand the term.  I couldn’t tell whether he could not understand English, was not really a swami, or whether he was engaging in the timeworn sadhu practice of evading personal questions. 

Concert

 On Sunday evening I walked down almost as far as the old Maharishi ashram to the Parmarth Niketan ashram to see a free concert of classical Indian music.   When it is good, that type of music has a profound effect on me.   The weather was beautiful and the four doors to the large room where the concert was held were kept open.   The Ganges was a few dozen feet away and its presence was palpable.  I arrived late, but the festivities started late also.  I noticed that the audience was about 90% foreign tourists.  Not even one sadhu wandered in from the outside to hear the performance. 

The head of the ashram, Pujya Swami Chidanand Saraswatiji Maharaj, introduced the event.  The first musician to perform was twelve year old Shivarga Bhattacharya.  He had been playing the tabla since he was two and a half years old.  His proficiency was remarkable but I was not moved by his music, perhaps because he was accompanied by a harmonium, a despicable instrument that seems incapable of being played with any finesse or subtlety. 

 
 The second set of performers were an ensemble centered around a vocalist named Sh. Ravi Joshi.  As soon as Joshi began to sing the slow bluesy long notes that began the raga, my eyes began tearing up and my body began to lighten up and open up.  The music was working its way through me and tears were running down my cheeks through the entirety of his 45 minute performance because it was so beautiful.  Good music is the one thing I had really been missing in India.  And location and music just doesn’t get any better than this for me. 

The final performers were a bamboo flute trio, headed by Pt. Sundar Lal Ghandarva.  Pundit Ghandarva got some wonderful sounds out of his flute and indeed was a virtuoso.  But the trio did not work so well.  Ghandarva was stepping on the other players and not giving them much space. 

Midway through their performance I decided to leave.  It was 10:30 and I had to walk a mile back to my hotel. 

The streets were deserted and I had to walk alone for a good part of the way in pitch black darkness.  I had forgotten to take my flashlight and was initially worried about how to avoid stepping in cow dung.   But I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the day’s dung had been completely cleaned up.  It dawned on me that residents had probably harvested the day’s production of cow dung and were already beginning the process of drying it so that it could be used for cooking fuel.  In the context of what was going on in Japan, it seemed to me so intelligent and benign that millions of people in India rely on cow dung as an energy source, rather than cooking by mining and burning coal, drilling and burning oil, or mining uranium and subjecting it to nuclear fission. 

Coda

Laying down in my bed Monday night with my moonstone around my neck, motionless and in a state of rest and relaxation, I felt and heard a vertabrate in my neck suddenly move with a pop and crack.  

Happy to be in Rishikesh.  Happy to be leaving Rishikesh.