Circular Motion

And so, I was finally ready to leave the beautiful hills of Rishikesh, and before I knew it I was on another rattly old clunker, to the holy city of Haridwar.

The windows rattle more than anything else on those things, the glass pounding against the railings, leaving me gobsmacked that they never seem to crack or shatter.

The city of Haridwar, which also lies on the Ganga, is about half an hour downstream from Rishikesh, and is the site of one the biggest religious festivals in the world, the Kumbh Mela, which occurs there every 12 years.

The Kumbh Mela is actually a series of huge gatherings that take place in different places in India during a 12 year period. The largest of these, the Maha Kumbh Mela, occurs in Prayagraj (formerly Allahabad), also every 12 years.

During the last Maha Kumbh Mela, which occurred over a couple of months in 2019, up to 200 million pilgrims visited Prayagraj, at the confluence of the Ganga, the Yamuna and the Saraswati Rivers, to bathe at auspicious places there. On the most important day of the festival, 50 million people were there at once.

50 million in one place on one day! Can you imagine?!!

I bags not cleaning the loos.

The Kumbh Mela is one of the most incredible gatherings of humanity you’ll ever see anywhere on the planet, although I’ve yet to see it. It’s on my list. Attendees come from all sectors of Indian life - from sadhus, orange-robed holy men, some of whom live completely ascetic lives, to hermits, who only come out of isolation for the event, to Hindu pilgrims, who come from every corner of India (and the globe), as well as all sorts of social, political and civil organisations.

There’s so many people there that there’s even a pecking order for who gets to bathe in the most auspicious places, and who gets to go first. You can imagine the shit fight otherwise. In fact, the official pecking order was established by the government after actual violence broke out between different groups in the past.

I mean, it’s worth killing someone if it means you get to moksha first.

Actually, the naga akhadas, militant ascetic orders who formerly made their livings as mercenary soldiers and traders, get to go first.

So the Haridwar Kumbh Mela has similar numbers to the Maha Kumbh Mela, it’s the second biggest of all the Kumbh Melas. The Ganga there, and all its tributaries and canals, are lined with ghats, they’re all over the place, and actually host a lot of pilgrims at any time of the year.

I had to wait a few hours for my bus to depart, so I sat around in a dhaba, an eatery, and had some tucker and a chai. After every meal they often serve little digestive snacks, either at the table, or you can help yourself at the till. It’s called mukhwas (mouth freshener), and is basically candied fennel seeds, with some tiny sugar cubes thrown in, and a few other bits and pieces. It's delicious.

In the past, chai was served in completely biodegradable and recyclable little clay cups. You’d drink your chai (with a bit of clay sediment in the last gulp), and then throw the cup into a bucket or wooden box or something, and someone would take the bucket, crush the cups, and make more.

These days it’s often served in plastic or paper cups (if it’s takeaway), or in a small glass or cup if you’re dining in. Apparently that’s progress.

For some reason they served this chai in both.

The ticket counter. There’s sort of a queue, but you need to stand your ground a bit, or you might find yourself back a few spots.

I got a luxury overnight bus to Dharamsala. It wasn’t a super duper luxury bus, but it was still luxury. There was even enough leg room for me. I slept for a good few hours.

Haridwar from the bus

The Ganga canals in Haridwar are drained and cleaned after Dussehra, a festival that commemorates Rama’s victory over the evil king Ravana (and also commemorates various other things, depending on where you are in India). Hence the lack of water.

Dussehra also marks the official beginning of preparations for Diwali, the festival of light, which celebrates the victory of good over evil, light over darkness, and knowledge over stupidity.

Did global leaders miss that one? Knowledge over stupidity?

Don't you love the Om bridge

This is another shared autorickshaw, called a vikram. They’re super cheap, just a few rupees for a ride. It can get pretty tight in there.

Shiva’s trident gets around

And there’s the man-God himself, officiating over proceedings

Tent camp

During a stop somewhere I met Doug and Adam, 2 amazing guys from Montreal, who’ve both just completed a yoga teacher training course in Rishikesh. They’re having a few days chill time in Macleod Ganj (up the hill from Dharamsala), before heading back to Rishi to complete another month of yoga training.

Both of them live in Costa Rica for much of the year, but travel a fair bit, and both, who would’ve known, are guitarists who’ve played in bands. We have a lot in common.

I honestly thought this guy was real for awhile. My eyes are really bad sometimes. But in India, you just never know, if he was actually real I wouldn’t have thought it to be that unusual.

Our bus arrived right before sunrise, and absolutely nothing was open, including the hotel Doug and Adam had booked, so we just strolled around town, checking out the place and admiring the magnificent views around the traps.

We had a chai and an egg sandwich from a little stall, and then eventually they were able to check in at the Green Hotel and Café, which itself is a bit of an icon in the town from way back, even from the days when I first came here.

As I didn’t have anywhere booked, I found a cheap room there too, it’s a nice place, with a great café overlooking the hills.

Back in the day we used to go there to hang out and eat delicious cakes, which were quite a rarity in India.

So we all freshened up, and then headed out to explore town a little, and eventually ended up down at the Dalai Lama’s temple and monastery, Namgyal Gompa.

The view heading down to the temple.

A Forgotten Struggle

Way back in the 90s, I travelled extensively through many parts of China, and have been back there a few times since then. It’s an incredible country, and seriously worth visiting. China has it all - incredible and vast natural landscapes, modern as well as ancient cities and towns, a unique and rich culture, unbelievably good food, and a history packed with momentous events that have had a huge impact globally.

One thing I didn’t realise about China until I went there was the diversity of its population. China is now home to about 1.42 billion people, the second most populous country in the world after India, which just recently passed it on the population league table.

But a whopping 7.5% of China’s population is made up of non-Han Chinese ethnic groups, which means, when you do the math, that there’s over 100 million non-Han Chinese people living within the territory which is currently internationally recognised as China.

6 million of these ethnic people are Tibetans, and they live in what China has called the Tibet Autonomous Region, as well as in 10 Tibetan autonomous prefectures in the provinces of Gansu, Qinghai, Sichuan and Yunnan.

The Tibetan empire emerged in the 7th Century, and at the height of its powers, branched way out from the vast Tibetan Plateau in the Himalaya all the way down to southwest China and Bengal. The plateau itself was always ruled by Tibetan leaders, but eastern Tibet (Amdo and Khan) often consisted of smaller kingdoms, and some of these were easy pickings for Chinese armies over the years, who ruled them on and off.

The current borders of Tibet were generally established in the 18th Century, and, although Chinese troops were expelled from eastern parts of Tibet in 1912, and Tibetan independence declared the following year, the then Chinese government never recognised Tibet as an autonomous country.

Namgyal Gompa

The main Tibetan temple here, close to the Dalai Lama’s residence, is quite a modest affair.

I’ve been to Tibet, and the Potala Palace, where the Dalai Lama used to live, and the Johkang Temple, the main temple in Lhasa, are incomparable to this one.

In fact, the Potala Palace is, I must say, one of the most beautiful and incredible buildings I’ve ever seen, with every single one of its one thousand rooms, 10,000 shrines, and over 200,000 statues a complete work of art. Every square centimetre of every tiny space throughout the whole 13 storey building is painted and decorated with the most exquisite artwork imaginable.

It’s one of the true masterpieces of human creation, in my view.

Here’s a couple of web pics:

Inner courtyard of the Jokhang Temple, the main temple in Lhasa, the Tibetan capital.

I visited Namgyal Gompa a few times whilst in Dharamsala. A group of monks were making a sand mandala over a few days. This is an incredible practice, and basically involves the monks slowly and painstakingly creating a brilliantly colourful and intricate work of art by carefully pouring coloured sand through long thin funnels, and controlling the flow of the sand by tapping the funnels with a metal rod.

A mandala itself is an incredibly intricate geometric configuration of different religious symbols, normally circular in shape. They're often used for meditation.

The mandala the monks created in the temple was unbelievable. But no photos were allowed. At the end of the whole process, once the mandala is complete, the whole artwork is destroyed, to demonstrate the transitory nature of all material things.

Here’s some pics of sand mandalas, so you get the idea:

Inside the Namgyal Gompa grounds

The main temple area

Lamps burning yak butter

A prayer wheel. You walk around and spin the wheel clockwise, with your right hand, whilst chanting mantras, the most common of which is Om Mane Padme Om, which means “praise to the jewel in the lotus.”

That’s us guys. We’re the jewel in the lotus flower, we just need to remember it. Then we can relax, be open, and be a force for good in the world.

Well, we can try anyway.

Dharamsala and Macleod Ganj (the town a little way up the hill, where we’re staying) has changed since I was here last, but not as much as I expected.

This cable car monstrosity, however, is a big change, although it’s down the hill a bit, so I rarely see it.

Dharmkhot

I was feeling a bit seedy, with a sore throat, headache etc, so went off to rest. I’m coming down with something.

Late afternoon I strolled up the hill, to Dharmkhot, which, in all my months of being here in the 90s, was the scene of many of my crimes.

Surprisingly, and absolutely thankfully, the place has hardly changed. Walking up from Macleod Ganj is all forest pretty much, there’s just a few more buildings here and there, but nothing much.

The chai shop at Dharmkhot, with the gate to the Dhamma Sikhara Vipassana Centre right next door. We spent many hours drinking chai here in the 90s, solving the problems of the world (and desperately trying to solve our own).

We also spent countless months at the meditation centre, both as meditation students, and as workers, cooking and cleaning for the students, and helping out in any way we could.

When I say we, I mean many of the friends I have who are now living in Byron, and, of course, a bunch of others from many places in the world. My close Byron friends Sam and Tondi, Frankie and Phil all came here in the 90s. I also met Carmen here, we spent a lot of time travelling together in India, and, of course, even discovered that Carmen was pregnant with Manu here in India, on a different trip.

We left in a hurry that time, btw. Pregnancy nausea wasn’t a thing Carmen wanted to endure in India.

The incredible connections I made with people here in those days have been with me for my whole life. They were so instrumental in helping me to evolve into who I am today. It’s so meaningful and precious for me to come back here, after spending a whole generation of my life parenting. Now, somehow, I’m back to exactly where I was then, completely free, and open to whatever comes, but with a huge wealth of life experience and understanding under my belt.

What an absolute complete joy it is to be back here now.

Tushita Meditation Centre, a Tibetan Buddhist centre which runs English meditation courses and talks for foreigners. We secretly came here for talks and meditation sessions back in the day, secretly because the Vipassana Centre had a rule that we weren’t supposed to be getting different meditation instruction from other teachers if we wanted to stay at their centre.

But rules are meant to be broken. Sessions at Tushita had nothing but a positive impact on my meditation practice at the Vipassana Centre.

Development has definitely happened down the hill. And Bhagsu Nag, the small town past Macleod Ganj, is unrecognisable, with highrise hotels and guest houses (Indian style) all over the bloody place.

But Macleod Ganj itself still feels pretty much the same to me. I’m not sure if that’s just because I’m a super optimist, or if it really hasn’t changed too much.

When In India

So the only real fixed date I had for the first part of my India trip was a ticket to a World Cup cricket game, between Australia and NZ.

I couldn’t really come to India during World Cup cricket time (which happens only every four years somewhere in the world), and not go to a game. Given how absolutely cricket nuts Indians are, that would be an absolute travesty. And fortunately there was a game on at the Himachal Pradesh Cricket Association Stadium, just below Dharamsala.

Unfortunately I was feeling pretty shit on the day of the game, my throat and cold had become considerably worse. But I couldn’t bring myself to miss the game, so I headed off down the hill fairly early in the morning anyway.

It was a beautiful day

A couple of local guys came past in a taxi on their way to the game. They stopped and asked me if I wanted a lift down. So sweet. It was about half an hour down the hill.

The stadium, with its beautiful mountain backdrop

The crowds were thick. It was nuts getting in. After walking all the way to the ticket office to collect my ticket, which I purchased online, I then needed to walk all the way around the stadium to my gate.

Once there, I discovered that bags weren’t allowed into the ground, nor was sunscreen, water bottles, or anything else you might logically need for a day of sitting in the hot sun watching the game. Go figure.

I noticed an Indian woman leaving the gate area carrying a bag, and asked her where she was putting it, she said she was storing it in her car, and that I could leave mine there too. So kind. It was another long walk back up the hill.

Eventually we got back to the gate and joined the queue. It was crazy. You wouldn’t wanna be claustrophobic, I tell you. There were bodies everywhere, almost exclusively male ones, jammed like sardines within metal railings. It took an hour to get in. The whole time I was absolutely busting for a piss, and feeling like death anyway.

But everyone was so friendly, it made it almost bearable.

The crowd inside was amazing. So energetic, so excitable. Every single cricket shot, especially a boundary or wicket, got major cheers, followed by wild dancing, drumming, and the blowing of horns. It was pretty wild.

Sometimes Mexican waves would pass through, over and over, and everyone was into it. People were singing and dancing constantly, letting their hair down, absolutely loving the whole thing. Everyone there knew way more about the players in the Australian cricket team than I did - their whole career histories, the whole journey of the Oz cricket team over decades, etc etc. It’s nuts. It’s absolutely not an exaggeration to say that the people here are absolute cricket tragics, total fanatics.

Cricket though, as a game, is pretty tiresome to watch, especially if you’re not feeling the best. This format, a 50 over game, has about 6 hours of playing time. But when I say playing, I don’t mean actually playing. 90% of the time the players are just getting ready for the next tiny bit of action.

When the bowler runs in and bowls and the batsman hits (or misses) the ball, that’s interesting to watch, especially if the batter smashes it over the fence, or gets out.

But the rest of the time? Once the ball’s finished with it takes bloody forever before the next one happens, and that bit’s as boring as cow shit. Lucky there was so much action around me in th crowd.

It was a bummer I was feeling so crap physically, but I survived the game. I needed to stay right to the end because Sonam had my bag in her car.

The game was high scoring and close, and decided on the very last ball of the game. Australia won, but I can honestly say I really didn’t care by that point.

How un-Australian of me. Former Australian PM and all-round spineless slimy slug John Howard would lynch me if he heard me say that.

Ok, maybe that’s a bit of a harsh description of Howard, but he was one of those politicians who was what Aussies would describe as completely gutless, and only made decisions based on whether they’d benefit him politically, regardless of the impact. He was one of that conga-line of suckholes who was very happy to demonise already marginalised and suffering groups of people for his own political advantage (eg. refugees and Indigenous Australians).

There’s been plenty more of that sort of politics since then. All over the world.

After the game I met another lovely Punjabi couple, we shared a taxi up the hill. I gobbled down some food and crashed like a dead man. I was really sick. It was a hard restless night. After a couple of days of rest and doing not too much I’m feeling better, but just like my sickness in Laos, it seems to come and go. Some days I feel much better, and feel like I’ve finally kicked it, but then the next day I feel quite crap.

The absolute blessing for me is that I can just be here and rest, as long as I need to. What a gift that is.

Circular Motion

The mountains. The space. The vast vast Himalaya.

The endless expansiveness of this place, the seemingly infinite space and sky, expands my mind, stretches it out in all four directions. Just like it does when I’m in the desert. It draws out thoughts, allows them to separate from others, slows them down, and creates space and clarity, to help me come to a deeper understanding of who and where I am. It opens me up.

No wonder all those Tibetan lamas get enlightened all over the bloody place up here.

The small wispy clouds slowly float across the lightly dusted mountain tops, gently touching them as they pass.

Beautiful memories suddenly flood through me.

Lying on my back, feeling the gentlest of my lover’s touches, feeling it unlock the most open and most vulnerable places within me. The memory draws tears from my eyes. The picture radiates so brightly and lucidly, within the vast, intricate gallery of my mind.

A single crow flies high overhead, throwing its call down the steep forested valley, its circular gliding a strong reminder of the many interweaving and recurring circles of my own life.

See her?

When I last sat on this soft mountain grass, here at the magnificent ridge top of Triund, I was a whole 30 years younger. I was bursting with a new rich understanding of life, which I’d discovered through meditation, yoga, and Eastern philosophies. I felt so completely connected to my amazing friends here, and I was finally ready to commit to love, which I’d avoided for so many years before.

And now so much time has passed. So many things have happened. I’ve experienced the most blissful moments I could ever have wished for, and felt pain that was deeper than I could ever have imagined was possible. I’ve loved and lost, and loved and lost again. But in that love I’ve become the father of three beautiful daughters, and found the most unconditional of loves, that between a parent and a child. Eternally unlost love.

Unfortunately, despite the intense beauty all around me, I’m still feeling a bit rough. I’m a little headachey and my chest is phlegmy, but I guess at least I’m getting some of that crap out of my system.

I decided this morning that I needed to get out and get my heart beating, get my blood pumping. Get some healing in motion.

It’s a long climb from Macleod Ganj to here, and quite steep in parts. It took me a couple of hours, and it was up almost all the way, with an overall climb of about 800m.

Looking down on Bhagsu Nag as I head up.

Beautiful tall pines at lower altitudes

There were some great signs at the beginning of the walk. Littering education is badly needed here.

We forget we're animals.

Gallu temple, towering above Dharmkhot.

One of many shrines on the way

Starting to look a long way away

The track was super steep and very rocky, especially the higher parts

Shepherdless sheep

The blue tarped buildings in the distance are chai tents

The ridgetop of Triund in the distance, my destination

Rhododendron. There were lots around as I went higher

A katak, a traditional Tibetan white scarf. People offer them to a person as a sign of respect, gratitude, or even as a greeting.

The horse at the bottom almost had the most tragic fall, right in front of me. She was coming towards me, heavily loaded, lost her footing, stumbled, and her horseman had to run down the steep rocky path with her, desperately trying to steady her with the reins. He did it, somehow.

He immediately unloaded her, and began checking her feet and legs. Eventually they moved on.

And finally I made it

I sat here for ages. Taking it all in.

Exquisite beauty.

And space.

Eventually, I went further up the hill

We slept in these caves once, they’re looking a little sheep-trashed these days

Some of the pines are absolutely massive, ancient trees

It started to get cold up there, so I finally decided to go down.

It was an amazingly beautiful hike. And I was alone almost all the time. Just me and Nature-God.

Rest And Re-Creation

So I’m gonna move guest houses tomorrow, as Dougy-ji and Adam have checked out of our place here in Macleod Ganj, and returned to their yoga duties in Rishikesh. I’m heading up the hill a bit, to a sweet little place I walked past today, not too far from town, but far enough to be completely quiet.

It’s nicer, and it’s cheaper.

I’m as free as one of those Himalayan black singing kites, those beautiful birds of prey that often glide the thermals in the mornings here.

I’m gonna stay here until I’m ready to go somewhere else. I've no time constraints.

It’s such a beautiful place to be.

And if I close my eyes and dream, I see the deserts of Rajasthan.

They’re patiently calling me.

The grand and extravagant Rajput palaces, and the vast plains, hills and lakes below this mountain paradise, are beckoning ❤️

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