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Journey to India
This is a short story of eight pages, about a month I spent in India in 1981. All photographs on the following pages are those I took myself while traveling. The painting above represents the Hindu god, Shiva.
Chapter 1 It was dark and very quiet outside the plane, and we waited in absolutely stillness. I wondered what day it was. As I peered through the tiny window of the Boeing 747 I could make out only faint movement in the distance. The plane was on the ground at last—again--and I hoped it was finally my destination of India. The past three days since leaving home were a blur. I'd been through countless time zones and stopped in so many countries that I had no frame of reference for anything anymore. At last the still air of the cabin began to circulate, but it was hot. Very hot! People began to awaken and forage around for their carry-on luggage. Trying to get moving again after sitting in the same seat for 26 hours is a feat unto itself. We’d had a few breaks of course. There was a lovely four-hour stopover at Heathrow, with enough time to buy a book about Prince Charles and contemplate the British currency. Then there had been that spectacular view of the mountains near Frankfort. We had not been allowed out of the plane there so our view was contingent upon our seat number. In Bahrain we were permitted one hour off the plane and it was one of the most extraordinary hours of my life. I watched the Arab-looking, cloaked men gambling on the steps of the airport. Wasn't that illegal in this country? They didn't seem to care. Women of Bahrain were nowhere. We were carefully scrutinized by the local men and felt that we must be on a different planet, for all the differences around us.
When we returned to our seats on the plane I looked up to see the most stunningly gorgeous man I ever beheld in my entire life. He had just embarked. He was a Bahraini with dark skin, luminescent brown eyes, fine features and a regal posture, wearing a brown military uniform, and looking directly at me. My heart stopped, knees turned to rubber, and I could not breathe! There were perhaps two minutes when our eyes locked... and then I never saw him again in my life.
The flight crew from New York had changed in London, and then again in Germany, Bahrain, and Pakistan. They must be fresh and alert. But what about us? We were scrunched and bunched and tired and restless. Our ankles were swollen from lack of exercise. We were uncomfortable to the point of not even caring anymore. Sleep…we needed sleep. I had begun my journey in the wee hours of a May morning in North America. I was going to India all by myself. What was I thinking? A woman alone in India is a scary prospect and a valid concern. My journey was to take me far up into the Himalayas in Kashmir for a month-long world peace assembly. I was part of a large group of advanced meditators who were coming together for the purpose of elevating global consciousness and easing strife in certain areas—in this case, the Pakistan/India border. I felt inspired and prepared…well, as much as one can be with 7 days notice. I’d had my cholera and typhoid shots and was still recovering from their terrible side effects. Malaria pills were already in my system and I would take these for the next two months. I had powerful potions to kill harmful bacteria in the drinking water. My US passport had been rushed through in an unprecedented three days! And I was carrying sixteen flight tickets for unknown local meditators going to India. Sure hope I’d find them! A previous meditation course in India had enticed some of my friends months before, so I had a rough idea of what lie ahead. I’d been warned not to do so many things that there wasn’t much left. I’d brought along suitable—meaning extremely modest—clothing, though it turns out it was still not demure enough and I ended up buying saris and salwar kameez. I’d been told not to give to the beggars, don’t touch the dogs, avoid the airport restrooms, never eat raw foods, guard my passport with my life, wear my money belt day and night, and generally watch my back. OK, I can handle this. Sure.
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