Continuing southeast in Uttarakhand we landed in famed Rishikesh, a holy city since ancient times skirting the Ganges River at its transition from the Himalayas to the plains. The town has long been a destination for pilgrims and spiritual seekers, including the Beatles in 1968 who wrote nearly fifty songs during their stay, helping establish Rishikesh as the destination for westerners in search of ancient eastern mystical wisdom.
We enjoyed our days in town but I found the scene a little disingenuous--a powerful location with deep cultural significance whose heart has been eaten out by profit driven ventures capitalizing on enchanted tourist.
The visual-scape of the center of town is dominated by two huge ashrams.
Rishikesh is an ultra popular spot with domestic and foreign visitors.
Looking across mother Ganges just upstream of town.
The Ganga is the holiest river in Hindu belief--pilgrims line the banks for the opportunity to bathe and be blessed by her waters.
When in Rishikesh...
If feet, why not face, and then what about the area between?
Full submersion in the Mother of all Rivers wasn't long to follow.
A couple miles upstream of town things are quite and I found it easier to commune with the great presence of the river.
Though rafts full of boisterous Indians frequently punctuate the peace.
There are monkeys all over town that get kicks from pulling pranks on tourist--Hanuman the trickster embodied.
Rishikesh is often called the center of the yoga universe--western visitors seem to really bliss-out on this image.
There are hundreds, if not thousands, of semi-permanent residents who have renounced what material possessions they had in dedication to the spiritual path--they live on the streets and survive on alms.
Making it happen with peddle power!
The holy cows of Hindu belief are free to wander just about anywhere.
I'm particularly fond of the humpback Zebus. Look at this guy!
Cows are given far more respect than the poorest people of Indian society--people are even obliging to share what they're snacking on with the ruminates.
Seemingly every other shop in Rishikesh sells prayer beads and other religious trinkets--a great deal of the holy city is now devoted to retail, selling material objects that represent or "aid" the pursuit of the beyond physical--it's a bit of a hypocrisy.
Ornamental henna tattoos on the hands and feet are very popular with Indian women.
Crossing the two suspension bridges in town is interesting--they're usually packed with people, many tense from the height, moving in no apparent order and frequently stopping to take photos. To make things more hectic locals, or worse unexperienced tourists, join the parade from both directions with their motorcycles.
The mighty Ganga has given life to millions for millenia.
Parents often send their cute children to beg for money from tourist. As easy as it might be to just hand over cash, doing so does little more than reinforce the socially frowned upon behavior, disincentivizing developing more stable and productive streams of income, thus trapping the kids in the vicious cycle of the beggar class.
Of course this isn't always the case, but at this age most kids haven't developed a convincing mask to hide their genuine motives, just looking them in the eyes often reveals if they're opportunistic or truly desperate. We'd spend time playing with them and asking for money was usually quick to cease. Despite their lack of formal education these kids are sharp, I was really impressed how much English they'd picked up just interacting with visitors--far better than my Hindi.
Mutually enjoyed moments.
Instead of begging this little entrepreneur sells leaf bowls filled with marigolds and a candle as offerings to the Ganges--with the number of tourist cruising around I bet he does pretty well.
Nightfall
The kid convinced me to buy one of his bowls--as an animist with an affinity for rivers a token of admiration seemed fitting for this great.
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