In Praise of India (Part 1)
New Delhi
Delhi was cold and foggy. A mix of mist and pollution disguised the city in a veil of mystery. The dense fog that stung my eyes and tickled my throat reminded me that the pollution was certainly not doing my lungs a favor. It was mid-January 2025, colder and damper than usual, and regardless of the assault on my senses, regardless of the motorcycles, the car horns, the barking dogs and the chaotic streets—the beauty of the people and the land they worship continued to shine brightly. I was back! Back in my beloved India. Back navigating the labyrinth of this challenging country that keeps calling to me.
I owe so much to the sacred culture of India. The beauty and the challenges on the outside continue to inform a deep, inner practice and appreciation of worship, adoration and acceptance. The vibrant life that surrounds me, as I travel through this country, leaves my senses soaked and satisfied. Even though I travel to India as a tourist, I like to sink into the local rhythm, engage the people, embrace their colorful dress that covers legs and shoulders, follow temple protocols and eat the local food specialties, all with an abundance of praise and appreciation. They are proud people, whether they are serving food, washing clothes, sweeping in front of their shop, making chai or selling vegetables.
This was my fourth trip to India. I know this land and these people and feel comfortable and confident in where I am going, how I am getting there, and what my intentions are while here. And yet India continues to teach me, delight me, exhaust me and surprise me. She teaches me to be patient, to be kind, to be playful. I learn to endure hardships, to suffer discomforts and to allow the senses to smell pungent and sweet, to hear blaring sounds and quiet birds, to taste spicy and sour, to touch silk and rough cotton. I breathe in aromatic incense and exhale the stench of rotting trash. I learn to be tender with myself and fierce when needed, to be respectful and yet able to say a firm “no.”
This year I traveled with two friends, a couple, who were on their first pilgrimage to India. It was a great delight to share such an experience with them. Walking through the narrow, cobbled streets of Hauz Khas Village in south Delhi, I observed the familiar roaming street dogs, playful monkeys, old temple ruins, congested traffic and even a few prowling cats. It warmed my heart to see many of the stray dogs and cats bundled up in special hand-sewn coats, with shop owners providing beds, bowls, food and shelter on the sides of the streets or in front of stores and cafes. These animals all looked much healthier than I remembered from previous visits. There also seemed to be a concerted effort to sweep up the garbage littering the streets, which, I’m sure, provides a good living to the many poor people tasked with the job.
Our first day was about grounding and feeling our feet on the earth. We walked through the local parks and streets, orienting ourselves to this new environment, releasing the drag of jet lag and the cramped conditions of overseas travel. Our first stop was Humayan’s Tomb. The tomb of Mughal emperor, Mirza Nasir al-Din Mohammed, commonly known as Humayan, was commissioned by his first wife and chief consort, Empress Bega Begun in 1558. Designed by a Persian architect, it is impressive in its beauty, with domed ceilings and red sandstone walls. It is often referred to as a “mini-Taj”. The structure was surrounded by extensive grassy grounds, occupied by many dogs, some even guarding the entry arches as if this was their official duty.
It was a beautiful way to start our day, cool and fresh, followed by a hearty breakfast in Khan Market and a frothy cup of cappuccino. I have learned many tricks for staying healthy and sane when travelling to and within India. It is important, especially at the beginning, to move slowly, listen to the body, hydrate (always) and be gentle with oneself. Our self-care included languishing in a few long mornings, guzzling down green powder immune-boosting drinks, and finally, rolling out our yoga mats to stretch and limber up. We eased into our new environment— we walked, we listened, we were curious, we explored, we watched and learned. After a few slow days in Delhi we moved on to the beautiful city of Udaipur, flying to the south of Rajasthan.
Udaipur
India is full of unexpected twists and turns. Being flexible is always more easeful and elegant than resisting sudden changes. This country is a rich place to practice surrender, letting go of plans and taking care of what is needed in the moment. One of my travelling companions suddenly came down with a high fever and had to go the hospital in the middle of the night. It turns out he had an upper respiratory infection, either from his travels or from the intense pollution in Delhi or both. He returned to our hotel the next day and needed to rest for several days. Luckily, we had scheduled a good five days in Udaipur, at a beautiful lakeside hotel, so his recuperation time was all about resting and reading in scenic window seats, being cared for by his devoted wife, who came equipped with many natural remedies.
I used this unplanned solo time to explore the unique treasures tucked away in the multitude of shops lining the hilly roads just outside our hotel. Part of my time in India is set aside for shopping to fill our ashram gift store with clothes and crafts. On this first day of the gift-store gamut, I met some lovely shop owners who played the bargaining game with me, serving masala chai as they unwrapped and spread out their many wares for me. I love this touch of hospitality, this offering of chai in exchange for your time and attention in shops. To bargain in India is an honored play, a lila, a game that is expected and even welcomed. Prices are naturally set higher for Westerners but, as I’ve honed my skills and gotten a feel for prices, I know how much can be chiseled away. Participating in Indian culture in this way allows me to help support the ashram through Gopi’s Gifts, the ashram gift shop that brings delight to those who browse and buy there.
As always, when I’m sure I’m done with my purchases, the shop owners will say, “Just you look at this, madame.” I have so much fun and find so much delight in shopping in India. But there is always a point in the afternoon when my eyes start to sting, and my head starts to pound, and my ears begin to ring with the high-pitched horns of tuk-tuks and motorcycles. Just as these sensations assault me, the vehicle exhaust suddenly becomes overwhelming, my chai buzz falters and I hit my wall. I know then that enough is enough.
Back in the sanctuary of our hotel, I put my feet up and drank lots of water, taking the time and space to close my eyes and breathe deeply. Staying in a hotel that is clean and comfortable, and provides good service and is somewhat quiet, is a must for me, as I age and travel these long distances through intense circumstances.
Early the next morning I claimed one of the breakfast nooks in our hotel dining room to look out at the floating hotel in the middle of the lake. The sun was rising, and the pigeons were flocking to the nearby ghats where they are fed by the local people. I felt rested, as my body had finally adapted to the rhythm of India, its days and nights, opposite to the West. I breathed in the quiet mood of the morning, as the city awakened and the streets remained abandoned, for just a short while longer.
Founded in 1559, Udaipur was the former capital of the Mewar Kingdom and is set around a series of lakes, the largest being Lake Pichola. The City Palace here is exquisite, famed for its intricate peacock mosaics. The domed buildings that sit along the water’s edge and reflect into the water, add to this city’s romantic charm.
The fog slowly began to disperse as the sun reflected its shimmering waves on the water. The unusual chilly air here began to warm, as the temperature this day will rise to almost 80 degrees F. I was ready for a temple visit.
After breakfast I ventured over the bridge and hiked to the Ambe Mata Mandir, dedicated to the goddess Amba, also known as Durga. According to the legend, the arrival of the goddess Amba was a miracle. Way back in the time of Maharaja Raj Singh (1652-1680) he was suffering from a severe eye problem. In a dream he saw the goddess Amba who told him she was coming to his city and where to find her. He ordered digging in that place and his eye began to get better. Finally, an idol was found and extracted from the ground, and he was completely cured.
Upon nearing the temple, I immediately felt the powerful feminine energy, both strong and gentle, radiating from this goddess shrine. With tigers painted on either side of the temple gates, I climbed the stairs and was greeted by the smiling face of a woman playing a very large drum. She was wearing a bright red shawl and had garlands of flowers draped over her drum. The goddess is worshiped as everything here – as the deity presiding in the temple, as the tridents wrapped in orange, gold, green and pink, as the roosters who have made this temple their home, as the men and women, dogs and cows, as the drum and the bells. It is all in honor of Her.
I felt so full of energy as I left the temple and made my way back to our hotel, walking over two bridges and through the narrow dusty streets. I feel like India is my second home or a home from another time and life. As a reprieve from the chaos, noise and dirt, I spent my afternoon sitting in a cushioned alcove. I journaled, read and contemplated the serene lake-life. Boats floated by, birds flocked in great sweeps across the water, songs and chants swirled through the air currents. The sun, in the late afternoon, set slowly, while its orange light shimmered over the surface of the lake. The whole scene encouraged deep breathing and relaxation, and a much-needed balance and recalibration of the body. I could spend a long time enjoying the beauty of this city.
(To be continued...)
