So Said the Saddhu

The Free Dictionary Definition of a Saddhu:
Noun 1. Saddhu - (Hinduism) an ascetic holy man
Hinduism - a body of religious and philosophical beliefs and cultural practices native to India and based on a caste system; it is characterized by a belief in reincarnation, by a belief in a supreme being of many forms and natures, by the view that opposing theories are aspects of one eternal truth, and by a desire for liberation from earthly evils.

The Eufemia Definition:
Noun 1. Those skinny guys in orange that shake their tins and ask for Bahksheesh. And what's bahksheesh, you wonder? I tried to get an explanation from Swamiji, who thinks that one of the biggest problems with India today is that the country is turning to the Wayward West for goals and standards, "and so, going into the toilet. But look, people in the West now chanting sanskrit and doing Yoga. Look, Indian people now lazy crazy." Swamiji doesn't like this baksheesh business.

Swamiji: Money....payment....extra money....pay and no problems.

Eufemia: Like a bribe?

Swamiji: No not bribe, bahksheesh.

Eufemia: Where I come from, we call that a bribe.

I tend to ignore all of these gentlemen, especially when they're calling out "Hello! HELL-O! Madam! MADAM! Money!" I make my peace with walking past and donating nothing because of the agressive nature of the request. At times I wanted to say "Mister, I gave at the office" or "You know what they say, charity begins at home" and see what would happen, but you know what they say, the best defense is to not to engage in offense.

According to the Lonely Planet, sometimes escaped convicts dress up in orange and wander around India dressed as these holy men. Wild huh? You couldn't really pull that rabbit out the Pope's enormous hat in the West, now couldja? Pass yourself off as a priest and Sandeep's your uncle. It's more of a concern in Rishikesh, I understand, but still, better safe than sari. (Ugh. oh no! I'm slipping, I know, but it's been a while of just dragging myself to yoga and dragging myself back, no energy for much thinking, for putting together sentences. No, complex thoughts be not formulating in my mind. It's beginning to get hot here, really hot during the day, though sometimes still cool at night. The Indians are dressed in bomber jackets and long pants as if it's freezing. It's at least 23 degrees Celsius by day, by my completely uneducated & totally clueless about 'The Nature of Things' opinion. Anyho, there I go again but just to verify what I was saying about being fried, today in Yoga Swamiji says "Mia, what happen? No power today.")

Oh, but speaking of being fried, I can't help this tangent: we wandered over to the Lotus today, me, Sarah & Jessie, just to see if we felt like having breakfast someplace other than Shiva Fast Foods (I really got cut back on those veggie naans. And the rose lassi's. And don't even think about asking me about the chocolate croissants. Just don't go there, okay?)

Jessie went in to the kitchen to ask if they had eggs. There are rumours of places that supply them. The kitchen staff didn't understand her. I pointed to the menu and said "Hey, look, it's right here on the menu." To which Jessie replied "That's Egg Plant." An easy mistake if you saw the way it was written out, on two lines. Certainly, a little confusing, I must say. But this is the town with "snakes" on the menu and tons of restaurants highly recommend their lentil deficacies.

A Western woman got up and asked what we were looking for, as if she was going to help us. Jessie tells her she's in search of an egg, and the woman says "No, they don't have eggs here." She makes a face like she just stepped in a fresh cow doody. I mean, she acted like we said we dance by the light of the Full Moon and worship the Devil.

Jessie said "Some places have them."

The woman looks even more horrified, like we've now said we're searching for stray puppies and kittens for our next sacrifice to the Dark Master. Seriously, I couldn't believe her reaction: "Well they're not supposed too, this is Pushkar. There are no eggs here."

Sure, sure, sistah - why don't you pull this finger - it's more flexible now that I'm going to Yoga. I felt like saying "and some restaurants supply water that tastes like beer and just exactly where is everyone getting their bang lassi from? Is it imported from Nepal?" And while I'm on this little rant, why is it okay to chase folks asking them for money, lie to them about it being festival time, ask them if they'd like to make an offering for their family and tell them to go down to the Lake for the Puja and them give them heck and tell them they have "very bad karma" because they're not making a big enough offering. Rupees don't grow on trees, you know, or the monkeys would be running the world. Hang on a second, I see a flaw in my logic....

The woman walks away, or I should say, sashays away, really, with an attitude like 'I straightened them out.' We all look at each other and Jessie says "Well, sometimes I don't take my shoes off when I'm crossing the bridge either." What a rebel, hey? I love this girl.

But back to my orginal story: a few days ago, I was walking past the gate into the main part of town (when I say gate, you should be picturing four ugly orange metal bars sticking up out of the ground with one large crossbar on top, it seems to work as a speed bump, not a real gate, nothing ornate or beautiful like you might see in a Merchant Ivory Film, no, no.) and there was a saddhu sitting on the shrine (when I say shrine, you should picture a concrete block painted white, and tiled with images of Ganesha and Hanuman but mostly Shiva. Under a small silver roof shaped like the domes on Taj Mahal, there is a Shivalinga in the centre, "a symbolic representation of the way Shiva is worshipped. A yin-yan symbol portraying the eternal embrace of cosmic masculine and feminine higher forces & creative power" - quote from Yoga School Dropout) Often there are several such saddhus hanging out around the Shivalinga, smoking chillum, getting into the zone, I guess you could say. Using the straight dope method of realising God conciousness.

I was walking past with Jessie, and there was only one lone saddhu sitting there. I was in mid-sentence, saying something to her when I used the word "Nothing" and the saddhu calls out "What?"

I turned my head towards him and repeated "Nothing," not wanting to get into a conversation.

"Nothing, " he said "This world is nothing."

Just thought you might all like to know.