I'm sitting in an internet cafe when all of a sudden a huuuuge commotion is occuring in the street outside... At first I am determined not to involve myself and continue tapping away at the typically sticky keyboard, but the sound increases and I wonder if someone's been hurt on the street outside. All of a sudden I find myself abandoning my chair and nosying it up with the locals lining the pavement. It always amuses me how people do this in Inda: how anyone's business is everyones...
However, this time we have more cause for concern - some dude with an American accent is SHOUTING his head off... screaming and carrying on about the motorbikes on the road.. from what I glean it seems one has run over his foot, and a HUGE part of me sympathises even though he is making a huge scene and continue his tirade about India as he walks up and down the street. These roads ARE insane and have changed a lot in the five years since I've visited last, with taxis and rickshaws and vans and motorbikes jostling for space with pedestrians, cows, dogs and children. From the way the man is carrying on I had wondered if someone had been killed, but it seems everyone else is fine...
I guess he has just expressed what I feel sometimes, albiet in an extreme way... weekends in both Bhagsu and McLeod are crazy, with many Punjabi weekenders competing for space here, their home state but a few hours away. Last night, from the serenity of Upper Bhagsu, where you have to walk up a steep road and then varying quantities of steep stone steps depending on which cafe you wish to frequent, a gentle Punjabi gentleman approached me asking if he could speak to me. I managed to swallow my inner cynic about what was going to follow and was pleasantly suprised at his genuine interest at why so many travellers come here...
I told him that the magic of the hills should speak for itself, but upon reflection I guess that being only a weekender he wouldn't have time to envelop himself into the community up here. Last night this same community, out of which an AMAZING Arabic-esque reggae traveller band has formed, put on a concert at Horizon cafe. The place was PACKED despite the 150 rupee entry fee (first entry fee for a gig up there yet I heard, although it was worth ten times as much and I had no qualms about opening my wallet to support wonderful musicians like them).
From their very first song they had wooed the crowd, actually even before they started they had the crowd wooed, with many of their friends filling the first two rows... they are 6 or 7 guys, I lost count, all beautiful both inside and out... the djimbe player reminds me of my friend Iain, and I want to show him a photo of him. They have the same brown smiling eyes and soul of a musician I think. The Israeli (I think???) singer has a white cloth wrapped around his dark hair. He closes his eyes and sings Arabic sounds to make ones soul swoon. Mine is unabashedly following suit on the dance floor. As is everyone elses! They play a slow song and we soon we all have our arms around each other, regardless of whether we know each other or not. It doesn't matter. I have my head on a strange man's shoulder at one stage and it all feels perfectly natural.
The singer in the middle of the stage (three of them at least are singing...) is something of a Spanish / South American rapper/freestyler and he is AMAZING! Doo wopping away in a way only he knows how to do right now, COMPLETELY one with the music - as they ALL are. It's great! The tall Frenchie at the back plays the clarinet in a Middle Eastern style, while behind the stage a guy in white they just refer to as 'Bagi' is holding his arms out in a V to the crowd as if to bless them. I am digging his energy - I am also in white and am feeling the same things - LOVE for everyone. SNAP! The energy of the crowd lifts me and I wonder how we are ever going to let this band go. They play for over an hour, an hour and a half, I don't know... and only stop when the resturanteers concur with police rule about no live music after about 11 and they play their final song unplugged after much shushing of the crowd, who are COMPLETELy hyped up by now. The last song is beautiful, although we're not fooling any noise police with all our voices joining in for the simple but beautiful chorus: "Your eyes are the window to my soul..." I could cry, but I'm too ecstatic and overexcited to produce tears.
Afterwards I meet and hug the guy I shared a shoulder with earlier, and there's talk of various afterparties at the waterfall or up the valley, as well as the invitation "EVERYONE COME TO MY HOUSE!!" from one rather beautiful dude (also in white). I'm a little bit ungrounded to say the least after all of this and retreat home, as I have realised lately that even though there are SO MANY beautiful people about, I am a loner after all and yearn to be 'home' in my beautiful space. Just when I thought I was sick of my own company it seems I wasn't and that there is much to be gained from silent time. The air is cool and I walk up the steps slowly, savouring the night. I won't forget the gig, and I'm sure there will be facebook photos from someone still able to be in control of their camera - my flailing limbs certainly weren't capable of capturing the moment in a frame other than that of my moving memory.
I'm still awake at 3 a.m that night when the rains start, and I hear the whooping somewhere distantly down the valley of the waterfall trance partygoers. I open my curtains and stare out for a minute before curling deeper into my blanket, happy for peace after the party...
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