As I walked confidently through New Delhi Train Station after an overnight journey from Varanasi, the fifth rickshaw driver approached, “The airport express train doesn’t open until 7:00 AM. Get in the rickshaw.”
“Bullsh#t,” I replied. “It opens at 5:00 AM.” My logic didn’t phase his insistence, but I kept walking to the Metro stairs no longer scared of India. I had survived and thrived for a month.
Click here for India Pictures Part 1 and here for India Pictures Part 2.
After the initial classic small triangle of New Delhi, Agra (Taj Mahal), and Jaipur, I completed a bigger triangle of my own concoction. I traveled west through Rajasthan towards Jaisalmer, then went south to Mumbai via Udaipur, and finally ended on the third point of the triangle, Varanasi. The following are written snapshots of the different cities visited.
Varanasi
As I scooped the last of my apple banana chocolate lassi from the clay pot, I looked up to see a dead body wrapped in colorful cloth getting carried to the Ganges River down the narrow alley. Life and death live seamlessly in this holy city. More than once I called this place “crazy town,” as everything happens here all at once: the dead ceremoniously set on fire, a riverside cricket game, a 3 year old pooping, a person bathing, a person washing clothes and a goat picking through trash. As I walk along the river taking in the scenery my attention is interrupted every 20 feet by, “Hey wanna boat ride? No? Want some hash?”
A sunrise boat ride afforded some beautiful views of this city waking up. The sounds of Hindu prayers, drums, and Korean tourist chatter filled the air already thick with smoke.
The roads are so small in the old city next to the riverside, one doesn’t walk, but more dodges with forward momentum. The obstacles include cows, cow poop, carts, paan spit, motorbikes and throngs of Hindu pilgrims. Once at the open air of the river, one can relax a little and enjoy the scene over a chai.
While sitting along the river one day, I recognized a traveler I had met in Cambodia. I called out to him, he sat and we chatted for a while. A couple Hindu Holy Men, called Sadhus or Babas, joined us. They offered us chai and one of them fetched it for us. We asked about their rituals, the chillum (type of pipe), charras (hash), and their mantras. Om-Namah-Shivaya is a mantra they repeat throughout the day to center themselves and give them energy. The five syllables (excluding Om) represent the five elements of earth, water, fire, air, and space. It was nice to connect with some authentic Babas to learn a few things without obligation, as there are many phony holy men who beg throughout India.
Mumbai
While in Mumbai, I ate one of the best Thalis (Indian dish with multiple small local delicacies) I have had in India. While munching on this all-you-can-eat Thali, something was terribly wrong. I was seated in the corner by the bathroom. It was an easy choice to give me that seat, given my solo status and less than chic clothing. I embraced the corner view though, and watched the Mumbaikers (locals in Mumbai) eat and chat.
Everything was pleasant until I watched a man hurry to the bathroom, panic when the men’s room was taken and then proceed into the ladies room for a big vomit. Now, an isolated puke is nothing to worry about. But, then I noticed at the table in front of me, a woman with her head on the table. She made her way to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but look concerned as her tablemates looked past my table to the bathroom. Her friend looked at me and said, “Maybe it’s jet lag.” I said, “She’s not the first to puke tonight. I am scared. Did she have the Thali?”
The room started to spin violently and I started to hallucinate. Not really, but the story would have been better that way. Everything turned out ok for me though. Needless to say I slowed down on the bottomless Thali. The rest of my brief time in Mumbai was spent in museums and walking around in the hot sun. I checked out iconic architecture like the grand India Gate, the luxurious Taj Mahal Hotel, and the famous Victorian train terminal.
The afternoon sun was getting to me so it was time for refreshment. I went to see the famous Leopold’s, written about in the spectacular book Shantaram. I expected to be transported into a world of romantic intrigue. However, watching tourists while munching on my brownie and sipping Diet Coke didn’t quite live up to the tales of black market violence shared over whiskey I was looking forward to. None of these buildings or cafes were as entertaining or illuminating as watching my first full length Bollywood Movie at the Regal Cinema downtown. The film was Agneepath. While it was in Hindi, I don’t think I would have followed the numerous plot turns if it were in English. One of the dancing and singing numbers almost brought me to tears. I am converted. All films should have Bollywood-style dance numbers, especially action thrillers. Best Bollywood movie of all time as far as I’m concerned.
Udaipur
When I first arrived in Udaipur, I didn’t think I was going to like India’s most romantic city, famous for scenes from the James Bond Film Octopussy. The main street was very small. The constant foot traffic, auto traffic and beeping were maddening. Adding to the stress, every shopkeeper beckoned you to come into to check out their scarves or custom made suits. However, after experiencing a sample of what Udaipur has to offer and dining on a couple rooftops over looking beautiful Lake Pichola, I wanted to stay longer.
My favorite time spent was painting. For 150 Rupees an hour ($3) an artist gave me lessons. It took two sessions and 3.5 hours to finish this masterpiece:
It makes me want to pick up painting again.
I also tried yoga for the first time in India. It was quite different to the scene in NYC I was used to. Instead of a calm soothing female leading a pack of mostly NYU girls, a young Indian man distracted by his cell phone barked different poses for me and my friend Sam. He challenged us to keep them for uncomfortably long periods of time while he checked his texts and watched the clock. It was great to move and stretch since it had been so long since I had taken yoga class. I left very centered. So centered I took a wrong turn on the way back to my guesthouse and spilled my coffee during breakfast.
Udaipur had many other cultural highlights. The main palace was a sprawling beautiful marvel. I saw a cultural variety show at the Haveli museum.
Performances included a dancer balancing an absurd amount of pots stacked on her head, other dancers with pots set afire on their head, and my favorite, the Rajasthani puppeteer. His moves brought life to his marionettes. The puppets physical comedy made me feel like a kid again. My last taste of culture was an auyervadic massage. It was my first and boy was it oily, oily in a good way though. It was vigorous, fluid and thorough massage; a nice change of pace after the regimented and precise Thai massage I took a class in.
Jaisalmer
The German couple I was with urged me to roll down the giant sand dune. I was scared the number of revolutions would make me puke. I hadn’t rolled down a hill in I don’t know how many years. What my threshold would be? Good thing I didn’t have a fresh Thali in my stomach. I couldn’t resist the peer pressure, or the girlish giggles the German man had emitted rolling before me. 
Wow, it was fun rolling down a giant sand dune. I immediately tried to run back up the sand dune in a dizzy daze, but found myself veering directly left and falling down. It’s also super fun to run down sand dunes. It feels like you’re on the moon with little gravity, as you take giant steps and your steps are softly cushioned on impact.
I took an overnight camel trek from Jaisalmer, The Golden City, to the desert. We were only kilometers from the Pakistani border and my furthest stop west in India. The camel ride itself was ok. The highlights of the ride were going through the villages, an overnight in the dunes, and chatting with the fourteen-year-old assistant camel driver, Aladdin.
The hours of desert scrubland on a farting camel does start to lose its appeal after a couple hours though. It is quite an experience to ride these awkward beasts, but I had more fun leading them on foot, jogging while they huffed and puffed to keep up obediently.
On top of Jaisalmer, a huge picturesque fort perched on a cliff overlooks the rest of the city made of sandstone.
It feels like your stepping back in time walking through the dusty streets. It’s more relaxed than other cities in Rajasthan. The fort is unique in that it is still in use by shops and restaurants. One lovely place was the Himalayan Café, where I sat looking over the town while I ate chocolate momos (dumplings) and drank a Kingfisher with a new friend.
India was an assault on the senses in both a good and bad way. These extremes make for a very memorable trip. There is so much to see and do it’s no wonder people go back again and again. There are many more parts of India I want to see in the future. I know I will be back.
Cue the Bollywood dance sequence where I sing and dance surrounded by the cast of characters I came across in India, culminating in a climax of colorful saris, fireworks, and reckless swerving rickshaws, whose drivers sing to me to just jump in and enjoy. Namaste.