The heat was getting to me... I'd had enough of spending the entire afternoon moving from fan to fan, in my friend's shop, in my room that never seemed to be cool enough, or in various family houses... I had no choice, I had to leave to escape these temperatures that were getting into their forties...
So I did the rounds of the family houses and said my goodbyes. Got gifted some beautiful bangles by a friend's mother - all wrapped in newspaper and stowed away secretly, ones she never wore but probably took out from time to time to inspect, her keepsakes from a long and successful marriage... they were beautiful. Although one of them broke on the first wearing - typically badly made things... that are bought and bought again... still, the gesture was nice and I wear the remaining spangly bracelets from time to time...
My night bus left at 4.30 and was to arrive in Haridwar at 9 a.m the next morning, but of course I knew that nothing could ever be that simple. From there I'd take a local bus to Rishikesh and then a rickshaw to Lakshman Jhula - and was planning to stay for a month, as Rishikesh is possibly my favourite place in all of India.
The bus was filled with colorful Rajasthani saris and turbans. This traditional state sure does like its colours, and so did I... the saris differed from the norm in that instead of a thicker main veil covering everything, their veil was often sheer and a differing colour to the accompanying blouse and skirt, so you'd often see a canary yellow veil over emerald green, or hot pink shielding azure blue... stunning...
The bus trip was pretty standard... bad makeshift toilets and the usual 1 a.m dinner stop, this time at a suprisingly clean 'dhaba' or road side restaurant. I ate some fairly tasteless biriyani, still nursing a stomach that quivered occasionally from too much flavour. Whilst I ate, a young girl around 12 approached me to strike up a conversation. Her English was great and I wondered what would become of her... whether she'd be allowed to continue her education or whether things would stop for her once she married. I hoped the former. She reminded me of a young Neelum, who I'd really enjoyed spending time with in Pushkar, an educated young woman who was helping to support her parents with her primary teaching work but who, once she married within the next year, may have to give up her job and start to wear the saris she hated. She said it all depended on her husband's family and what they wanted her to do and to wear. I hoped for her that she would be allowed to keep working, and I think her family will choose well... she may even have some say in the matter, but not likely very much!
One exciting escapade happened on the bus the following morning. We'd just stopped for breakfast at a place that I thought was Haridwar, but after lugging my baggage with me off the bus I only had to pile it all back on again when I found out we were still 2 hours away. Even though it was already 9.30. Oh well... We hadn't been long back on the bus, when a man near me seemed to seize up. He seemed to stiffen his back and clutch at his knee, so at first I thought that he'd had some kind of a twinge and was lying down to manage the pain silently. But then I saw him shaking and realised he was having a seizure at the same time that his daughter (5 years?) began to cry. I tried my best to roll him onto his side, trying to communicate with those around me and hoped they understood the word 'epilepsy'. If it was that - I never found out but I think that was the most likely situation. He was heavy so I was glad when some men came forward to help, but I encountered a problem when I kept saying 'side' to try to communicate that that is how we should turn him, into recovery position. Unfortunately, in India, 'side' is what you want to say when you want someone to move out of the way! You hear it all the time from men trawling heavy carts, bellowing 'SIIIIDE!' in the marketplace. Anyway, we managed to turn him but noticed blood was trickling out of his mouth. I didn't realise it at first but he'd obviously bit his tongue as we didn't get there fast enough to clear his airway. Once the men were in charge of holding him and tried to sprinkle a bit of water onto his face to help him awaken, I turned to his daughter who was bawling her eyes out with no other family member on the bus. How scary it must have been for her!
Thankfully within a few minutes the worst was over, and he was breathing heavily and trying to wake up. His daughter, although still highly distraught, could see that he was going to be okay, and the men took over and grabbed his mobile out of his pocket to try to find out where home was. Turns out him and his daughter were on their way to a family wedding in Haridwar, but thankfully had just left their station, so it seemed the best thing for them to do was to turn back. From then on I just sat and tried to listen, offered them my toilet paper (a complete luxury, and unnecessary for most people) to mop up the blood which had spilled onto his good wedding shirt. His daughter's name was Saraswati and when the men found that out, they chucked her under the chin and made noises to show they approved - a pretty special thing to be named after such a famous goddess!
Somehow the men found out that the man in question was an alcoholic. He didn't have a doctor and no-one knew if these fits had happened before- he probably didn't even know himself. He didn't say much afterwards, was probably trying to get some semblance of normality back into his day, and just sat there smoking beedies out the window. In typical Indian style, everyone on the bus took turns to come right down to the back of the bus where we were and have a good old look. There is no such thing as privacy in India! Someone brought half a packet of Parle G biscuits down for the child, and we tried to get the man to eat some sugar as well, which he refused before we found a massive bag of wedding sweets in his luggage which his wife had probably spent days preparing. Just because I was a foreigner, the men insisted that I try both a salty and a sweet one, as they were special wedding sweets. Not the best thing for an empty stomach trying to get rid of a bug, but oh well - it's near impossible to say no to food in India.
Soon enough the man and his daughter were led off to a different bus going back the way we'd come, so we knew they'd be with their family again before long. But the whole experience made me think that, to a large extent, we create our own destinies. This man was apparently an alcoholic whose serious health problem had gone undiagnosed and would probably remain so if he couldn't give up on the drink. I say 'apparently' because I never spoke to him myself, only to the men who had communicated with the family on the phone. It made me realise that so much of the time, there is a way out of a situation there for us, but we have to be willing enough to take the first step. And I couldn't stop thinking of his poor daughter and wondered if she'd witnessed fits like that before, and how helpless she must have felt.Thank goodness for community though - so many people were willing to help, and I know the situation could have been much worse.
Eventually the bus arrived in Haridwar, and instead of waiting for the local bus I splashed out on a shared rickshaw, which was actually only 70 rupees, all the way to Lakshman Jhula. The driver wouldn't take me any further than the taxi stand however, so I had to endure a very steep walk with all my luggage down to see if my hotel of five years ago was still available, and at one stage I fell and twisted my ankle pretty badly, in front of a group of men who all rushed over to try to help, bless them. This meant that I spent the first few days in the yoga capital of the world moving slowly from hotel balcony to hotel restaurant to hotel room! But all's well now, or mostly.. and I'm going to try my first yoga class tomorrow to attempt to work off all the German bakery items I've been devouring in my enforced down-time... at least I've had a Ganga view to gaze upon, and a wonderfully peaceful hotel balcony to pass the evenings on. More soon xx
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