why don't we do it in the road? part 2

under the streetlight on the corner,
one can get ones ironing done..
even at midnight..
here in bodhgaya, you can get
a head massage, shave and a haircut
(with the mirror hanging from a tree!)
how about your grave stone carved and cut?
bullock carts,
small horses pulling colourful carts..
prayer shawls and monk's robes..

why don't we do it in the road?

the road..
where there is every kind of every thing happening..
welding..without safety glasses and sparks a flyin'..
skinning goats, sheep and chickens..
typewriters waiting to compose lettres and legal docs..
men hanging out to whiz along the high walls..
women carrying vessels of water.. laundry..

every kind of everything for sale!
from bras and panties to sliced papaya dusted with road grime..
calendars, santa claus hats, badminton rackets,
recharge your phone, hot chips..

no wonder it is difficult
to put two and two together..
walking highway one south to san francisco
had a one-pointed intent..
here..this..now..
thoughts are as wilde as the road itself..

heading to calcutta..
then to gaya/bodhgaya
for the kagyumonlam with HH, the 17th karmapa..
where teachings on the medicine buddha and
the stories of milerapa will be the skyway..

rock a bye babe

searching for a new home for my dear friend, sudha
has been illuminating, exhausting..rewarding..
converting lakhs into dollars has been challenging also..
what IS the rate of the falling dollar?

traveling by rickshaw in a city of 7 million,
the pollution rises
along with the screeching of brakes, honking of horns,
right into the central channel of the spine
via tender nostrils!

the sites we viewed for a new home were varied;
the sights seen from the moving "took~took"
were even more eye-widening..

three young children..
so small and brown and barely dressed
were playing in an empty plot of land..
one small girl was gently caressing a brick baby..
holding it with such love..cooing, stroking, rocking..
the young boy had a piece of styrofoam..
he had made some design and was steering it into...?
outer space, per chance..
the third small girl was watching the child mother
with eyes of admiration..

on our way out of the village,
all three were in a box boat..
roiling on the high seas
heading to tahiti, i imagine...
where winds are cool,
fruit is sweet..
doll babies are made of cloth.

sharma executive sleeper

there is an overnight bus that
travels to pondicherry
on the coast of the bay of bengal..
it is a sleeper,
which means,
you actually book a bunk
where you can stretch out
and... if you are lucky...
sleep!

i had been up late the night before..
at the movies
aaja nachel

sleep came easy..
the rains had come to bangalore
and followed us~
swade and victor and me..
so pondi and auroville's red mud
(hello, north carolina!)
caked up happily on the bottom of our shoes..

we are waiting for our pass to
the matri mandhir..
the centre of auroville..
the huge ..biggest in the world, i'm told..
(well, the biggest in southeast asia)
crystal that juices up this coastal region.

we are staying in the middle of the forest
with an indian family;
duray, the papa of two,
has been in auroville since he was seven.
he actually helped build the meditation hall..

lunch at the solar kitchen..o my o

it is muggy, moist and mosquito-y..
perfect indian weather, acha?

kashaya

this is a great drink for the tender care
of scratchy throats and coughs due to colds..

clear, cool water
cumin seeds (1/2 tsp.)
garlic (2-3 small cloves crushed)
ginger (about 3/4 inch)
turmeric powder (1/2 tsp.)
peppercorns (5-7)
jaggery - an indian sugar..
if you cannot get it,
add honey AFTER you boil..

boil for about 3-5 minutes.
add sweetness..
drink and heal!

it is a soothing drink if you've been
in rickshaws all day attempting to
gather funds from a finicky ATM card!

rusty pipes

india!
how does one begin to share the stories
that arrive moment by moment as the days
go by in mother india..?

starting with the bucket showers,
the bucket laundry,
the bucket toilets..
buckets!

the rickshaws..
the traffic jams in bangalore,
the earth caked on the inside of one's throat..
the chalk kollams drawn in front of houses,
the dogs..the tea..
the dosas!

i am rusty on the keyboard;
my thoughts can't seem to find
focus to tell the tales..

slow and small to this vast hindustan..
it has changed since i began traveling here in 1976..
the world has grown beyond itself..
the world rests on the head of a pin..

teatime..
acha!

dunjams

dunjams lingwood...

this is the name as it appeared on my e-ticket to india.
it quite aptly described the way i felt after 36 hours
of up, up and away..

the shower at a-dam airport helped a great deal
but by the time i arrived in bangalore (bengaluru)
with furry teeth, wiggly-piggly legs,
flattened bum and saw-dust eyeballs..
i was dunjams..
no doubt, honey!

reading material on flight:
the curious incident
of the dog
in the night-time
a novel by
mark haddon

movies on board:
no reservations
evening
the simpsons movie
apne (barely bollywood)

i was gifted miles by a generous flight attendant,
was on the plane with a yoga teacher
i knew from seattle,
and did not sleep a wink!

just call me dunjams!