12/14: Pushkar

Pushkar is a village, a pilgrimage site, on the holy Pushkar Lake, now dried up due to a very poor monsoon. There are dozens of ghats stepping their way down to the lake's edge, or what would be the lake's edge if there was water. Supposedly there are over 1000 temples here, and the only Brahma temple in all of India.

After an all-night bus ride from Jaisalmer, I arrived in Pushkar very early in the morning on December 11th, where I was met at the bus stop by a hotel man, and taken to my room by 5AM, where I went back to sleep until 7:30. I went out walking and it wasn't until much later that I realized I had only some idea where my hotel was. I had done this once before - the first time I came to India, 30 years ago, with my friend Daryl. When we arrived in Delhi from Patan, Daryl was sick. I found us a room in Old Delhi, put Daryl to bed, and went out walking, only later to realize I had absolutely no idea where the hotel was, or even the name of the hotel. After fruitlessly walking through the streets of Old Delhi for some time, I finally hired a rickshaw driver, and told him, "drive." We went up and down the streets until I started to recognize things, eventually to find my hotel and Daryl. Luckily for me, Pushkar is much smaller than Delhi, and it was only a little difficult to find my hotel.

Those of you who know me also know that this theme of getting lost has been pretty constant all of my life, some times even intentionally. I don't remember who it was you suggested that my desire to get lost was tied to a deeper desire to be found. But since I am the one who finds my way back, maybe a more accurate description of my deeper desire is not to be found, but to find myself.

Alli, near the mosque in Ajmer, 15 k. from Pushkar

Inside the mosque compound, a man fired questions at me:
What is your name?
Where are you from?
What city?
Are you Muslim?
Christian?
Communist?
After the third "no," he ran out of options. I guess that is it: Muslim, Christian, and Communist.

Werner, my good friend from Germany

Yesterday evening, as I walked with Werner to his night bus, taking him to Rishikesh, I saw a camel pulling a cart. There is something so magical about that, even the fact that it has become so common place to my reality these last two weeks in Rajasthan. At each moment, a multitude of realities exist, superimposed over one another. Usually we see just one of them. But every once in a while we get a glimpse of more. The beauty and magic in the simplest thing. The complexity of thoughts behind an idea. The positive lessons learned from painful truths. Every moment has both a freshness and a history attached to it.

Neta (from Israel), Alli (from Germany), Liat ("famous actress" from Israel), me and Helena (from Denmark)

I have really enjoyed the community of travelers I have met at the Paramount Hotel in Pushkar. there are Ian and Kay from Great Britain, Liat, Neta, Maya and Svet from Israel, Werner and Alli from Germany, and Helena and Poya from Denmark.