Postcards for the Edge of Pushkar

I Confess: I have been in Pushkar two and a half months and have not posted the cards I wrote out on January 21st. I might do that today, I hope, since I'm leaving Pushkar today, for Rishikesh. Hmmm....A busride when you've been in my physical state for the last 3 days, oh, the fun travel stories I'll have to share.

I Confess: I ran out onto the ghats in the middle of the sand storm that blew up two days ago. It's called Ahndi, fast wind, and within minutes the sky goes brown, like the colour of the ground beneath your feet. The mountain ridge behind Pushkar disappeared, I couldn't see either temple, and parts of the town skyline started to disappear. I ran out and stood there, totally enthralled. The gentleman seated near where I stood, the one-legged gentleman who sits on the ghats all day and always walks past Swamiji's calling out his "Ram Ram!" greeting, told me the name of the storm, that first the sky fills with sand, and then hail.

I was so excited, but truly, it was nothing (and not dangerous, not to worrying be, not dangerous unless you were on a bus or motorbike, travelling the pass between Pushkar and Ajmer or Pushkar and anywhere, you have to go up that mountain pass which I've been on by bus and motorbike and lemme tell you, even without the helmet I preferred the motorbike. The bus makes some closecall turns.) IT WAS NOTHING compared to last night's storm- I used both my flashlights to walk along the ghats (for me and Sarah to get home from Swamiji's, where we had our goodby dinner) and the sand made the sky grey. It looked like a mist had descended over Pushkar, just before the night would go pitch black. The power went out, everywhere, and sheet lightning flashed across the sandfilled sky. The kind of storm where I kept expecting Viktor Frankenstein to show up and yell "He lives!"

I Confess: I haven't finished my souvenir shopping.

I Confess: I thought I had more time.

I Confess: I am desparately homesick and equally saddened by leaving Pushkar.

I confess: I love making puja's.

I would tell you that what I feel is similar to confusion, but I know it's not. It's heartache. Confusion seems easier to stomach, though right now my stomach is very unhappy with me. Swamiji says "Don't argue with your mind" all the time, but I'm telling you, when your intestinal tract starts shouting at you, the dustup makes your mind-problem look like child's play. I only wish my mind could take a backseat.

And finally, I confess I love this particular prayer:

I confess to almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do. I ask blessed Mary ever Virgin, all the angels and saints, and you my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.
Om.

It's what I have failed to do that gets me, everytime.