Post 13: Seeking India – Black Money

Black Money:

We decided to bring a limited supply of US dollars to India.  Our plan was to use ATM’s and withdraw only what we needed for a day or two.  But on our 4th day the Indian Govt. issued a surprise announcement – 500 and 1,000 Rupee notes would no longer be accepted and must be converted to new currency.   But the new currency would not be available for a few weeks so in the mean time you could use 100 Rupee notes.  Now mind you 65 Rupees equals $1.  So a 100 Rupee note is a buck and a half.   We had just withdrawn a bunch of 500 and 1,000 notes that we could no longer use.  So we thought we would cash in our notes but the lines were LONG.  (Google “India Black Money” and look at pictures of the bank lines).  Stuck.  Luckily they love Americans and we were with a really good travel agency so everything worked out.

The Prime Minister (PM) initiated a full frontal surprise attack on what India calls Black Money.  That is money not declared.  Underground Economy.  Only 3% of Indians pay tax.  The cheaters hoard currency in their houses and businesses as well as in electronic form.  The ban of notes was only the first step in a multi-printed attack to repatriate money into the system and tax the cheaters.  To preserve the element of surprise they did not reprogram the ATM.s to accommodate the new and larger currency nor notify the banks.  You can imagine the bedlam in a country with over a billion people.

Here is the big surprise – despite very annoying inconvenience and stress – every Indian I asked supported the PM.   Being in Finance and curious I asked maybe 50 people and all of them, literally all of them,  supported the move.  They saw it as necessary.

*Written by Michael Kelly 11/24

Post 12: Seeking India – Laundry Day

Driving through the slums of Mumbai, colors clash, sounds break apart, insistent horns, chants, yelps, calls to prayer, calls to friends, calls to a tourist to come this way – ‘let me show you’ …..in this swirl, we turn a corner and before us are rows, and rows and rows and…. of white – billowing, slapping in the breeze, putting our eyes out with the sudden and stark brightness.  It takes a moment to realize what we are seeing. The sounds have hushed – being pulled into this whiteness seemingly. Sheets. Towels. Bedspreads. Tablecloths. Linens. Thousands – all of them white. Hanging on lines that go on and on and on….

Clothes drying on the streets of Mumbai, India.

Below, there are concrete tubs filled with tired and dirty water. It is hard to imagine there is any ‘clean’ left in these wash basins. Men and families rent these concrete squares – perhaps 4’x4′ by 3′ deep. They contract to wash linens for hotels, restaurants, shopkeepers and families too busy to wash their own clothes. Men standing over these tubs. Wet sheet in hand, reaching back and then, Slam! The sheet hits the concrete side to be scrubbed and the dirt demanded to disappear.

A hardworking local slams the wet clothes against the concrete before scrubbing them clean.

Truly laborious work – all day – thousands of pieces are washed here – another family member shakes them out, hangs them to dry in the dank, dark, dirty air of Mumbai. And then, when dry, another entrepreneur who has rented a small ‘cell like’ space takes these clothes and folds, and folds and folds…..

A local man folds the clean linens.  Each step of the cleaning process is sourced to a different person.

It is dawn to dusk. Another enterprising soul bundles up the crisp and clean laundry and stacks it miles high on his moped, racing to the customer before nightfall. It is a mystery how the laundry finds its way to its rightful home. There is an unspoken system that is far beyond my comprehension. And when the days labor is complete, the family jumps into this concrete washer, the tired and dirty water inviting them for their daily bath. The children splash. The women laugh and share stories of the day. The men quietly soak achey bones, knowing tomorrow they will begin this all again.
Namaste.

Locals soak in their rented concrete laundry tubs at the end of a long work day.

*Written by Susan Kelly

Post 11: Seeking India – The Number 108

The Number 108 runs through many aspects of the Hindu (and other Eastern philosophies and religions).  Why, I wondered?…

• Within each 12 hour period we breathe 10800 times. This allows us to dedicate this breath to recite our mantra (prayer or jap) 10800 times. To master this dedication will  provide 100% benefit from your daily prayer.
• The Mala, or prayer beads used for devotion, include 108 beads, one bead for each mantra or prayer, plus one ‘guru bead’ around which the rest turn as the sun to planets.

Mala, or prayer beads used for devotion, have 108 beads.

• Feelings:  it is believed there are 108 feelings – 36 related to the past; 36 to the present and 36 related to the future
• Astrology: 12 houses and 9 planets – 12×9=108
• Vedic masters view 108 as representing the wholeness of existence. The distance from both the sun and moon to the earth is 108 times their diameter.
• There are 108 pithas (or sacred sites) throughout India
• Lord Krishna had 108 gopikas (female cow herders) who followed him with unconditional devotion.
• there are 54 letters in the Sanskrit alphabet, each with a masculine and feminine – Shiva and Shakti =108
• There are 108 Hindu deities, each with 108 names

Ganesha, one of the Hindu gods, is widely revered as the remover of obstacles, the patron of arts & sciences and the deva of intellect and wisdom.

• There are 108 paths to God
• There are 108 lines connecting to the Heart Chakra
• Lord Shiva took human form to marry Maa Shakti due to her beauty. Sati’s father humiliated Lord Shiva, and Sati became so despondent she fell into the fire. Lord Shiva reached into the pyre to pull his beloved out and as they rose to heaven she broke into pieces and fell to earth – 108 pieces.
• 108 – God or Higher Truth (1). Emptiness or Completeness in spiritual practice (0) and infinity or Eternity (8 ~ infinity sign)
• Another definition of 108 = *Just one thing (1) * No thing (0) *  All things (8)   108

I like this meaning. I hope you do too.
Namaste.

 

*Written by Susan Kelly

Post 10: Seeking India – Boys Will Be Boys – The Naga Hindu

The commanding foreign voice cuts through the air 5 times daily – no matter the city, town or village we visit. It always abruptly raises my gaze skyward as I inevitably lose a breath to the chanting and otherworldly sound which takes over the sky for 45 seconds. It is interesting to note that those living here do not seem to miss a beat, break a conversation, nor pull out a prayer rug in the middle of the street and begin prayer. I know that the Muslim population is far less than 10% of the population, but such a ritual seems it would have a greater outward impact. I am not certain where else on this earth so many religions may live side by side, in apparent harmony, while having such a great impact on the culture and daily life, as here in India.  Our assumption that this daily ritual is to remind the devout Muslim to pray is not correct. Rather, the booming ‘God-like voice’ is meant to announce to God that the devout are prayerful and resolute in their devotion.  And although India is 85% Hindu – which continues to be emphasized to us is a lifestyle, not religion – they are peacefully sharing this land, airspace, resource and accommodate for Muslim, Christian, B’hai, Buddhist and Jain which all consider India as home.

Another expression of devotion has come to us. And of course, Michael has been researching the peculiarities of this ever since. Identified as Naga, or slangly, ‘Hermits’, these men live in the mountains – different from those that come down for DiWali each year, and are committed toward the achievement of complete enlightenment through, what is not considered suffering, but rather devotional acts of sacrifice. They wear no clothes, nor have any human possession. For to wear anything would lead one to want more (girls, you know what I’m talking about here – if you can have one pair of shoes, why not two…).  To achieve this enlightenment they may stand for days on end on one foot, not moving, scratching or taking water. They may stay in the same spot, some for 22 years without moving or wanting of more. They may immolate themselves for days on end. They bury themselves up to their neck in sand, and remain meditative for weeks at a time. And then of course, if all of this isn’t enough, there is the penis. They tie ropes and hang bricks, they lift bricks, they pierce the shaft with swords, they …. All in search of enlightenment. All in the belief that to achieve this true and utter nirvana, they must rid themselves of all pleasure and desire – and of course, as is often the case with men, finding some way to use the penis for pain, pleasure or nirvana, the Naga, have discovered yet another way, to use their manhood.

Member of Naga Babas

Naga Babas member

I share this story today, as Michael and I are heading to Narendra Nagar in the Himalayas.  We are heading there to work on our personal enlightenment at Ananda, a  yoga & meditation ashram. This location is considered a seat of spirituality in India. We are heading there as our last adventure in this beautiful land, to seek and find our individual enlightenment.  I have no doubt my journey to the light will be quite uneventful and easily attainable. Michael on the other hand, having read about the path of the Hermit and the necessary steps required for true enlightenment, may have a more difficult path. I hope you will all keep Michael in your thoughts. Namaste.

*Written by Susan Kelly

Post 9: Seeking India – Agra – Does Size Really Matter?

Over 85% of India’s population still recognizes arranged marriages. When a man is ready to wed the family makes this announcement and proposals start coming in – “pouring in” – if you are lucky. They come from within your caste of course and include all the pertinent facts – age, height, cooking and cleaning ability, along with your blood line and the oh-so-coveted picture. The parents review the applicants, select those of interest and take them to the family astrologer to determine the acceptability of the match. Family, often the sister and brother, will interview the girl and her family and make the decision about acceptability. If accepted, the astrologer then determines the best date for the marriage during wedding season and plans begin. Because they do not want a long engagement the date can be within the month, or almost a year.

With that said, our guide shared the story of his arranged marriage……

One important criteria for him was height – the couple should match and be able to join intimately by comfort of size. He was looking for someone 5’5, or close. When he told friends about the woman selected to be his bride, they told him he would not be happy – she was too short. He was confused because the ‘resume’ noted her at 5’5″. This concern was taken back to the bride-to-be father, who insisted, no she was that tall – then conceded she might be 5’4″. The groom determined he must see her for himself, so arranged a 1/2 meeting in her home. When she entered the room, wearing the long traditional sari, she immediately sat down. Although he got but a brief glimpse at her standing, he was confident she was acceptable, at approximately 5’2″. Her father grudgingly acknowledged she was most likely closer to 5’2″. The wedding plans moved forward.

Several days after the wedding, when he was now alone with his barefooted wife, he said to her, “I am confused – you do appear to be 5’2″. Why would your father not tell the truth?”. With deeply innocent eyes and expression she responded, “my father told you I am 5’2″?  I am only 4’10”, but when out in public, I wear heels to seem larger. If you are unhappy with me, what shall we do? “. Being the honorable man that he is,  he said “we will do nothing. I will accept you as you are”.

To us, he said, “What could I do?  There is nothing to do but accept my fate.”

*Written by Susan Kelly

Post 8: Seeking India – Varanasi & DiWali – A Day of Celebration

Once called Benares under British rule, Varanasi is considered the spiritual capital of India. Conjuring images of all things exotic, otherworldly and beyond an American girls imagination, I have held a desire to visit this city on the Ganga G (known to us as the Ganges. The true name – Ganga G, the G is added to names as sign of respect.  The Brits heard the name (pronounced Gonga G) and renamed it Ganges.) My desire to visit began when my mother told me about her first visit to Benares when I was a young girl – she shared tales of death and cremation, leprosy (yep, that’s where I first heard about the dreaded disease), absolute devotion to faith and, of course, filth. I am not certain I can, in words or pictures share the profound intensity of this City, but I will try…..

Once called Benares under British rule, Varanasi is considered the spiritual capital of India. It sits on the Ganga G river.

Varanasi is situated on the River Ganga, considered the holiest of rivers, born from the most revered God, Shiva.

To reach our destination, we boarded a small boat, which taxied down the river.  The air was thick with a smoke that seemed one hundred years old, musky incense, sky grey and heavy and a river that was dark, thick and slow. The city, set above the river was a mass of color, haphazard, 1,000 year old structures and the most devoted of pilgrims. It is said there are over 800 temples hidden throughout layered dwellings which have been built as an afterthought.  As we approached our ghat, the 16th century ‘fort’ recently reimagined as a hotel, was waiting for us. A huge, imposing structure, it holds a tiny fortress door barely visible, which was designed so the enemy couldn’t attack. As our boat approached, the driver yelled caution to the multitude of worshipers in the water bathing, washing clothes and taking their afternoon swim. It is a miracle we didn’t drown someone.

As luck would have it, we were in Varanasi for DiWali, the celebration of light – of Shiva – the Indian New Year. This meant pilgrims from all over India, including the devout, loin cloth only, come down from the Himalaya to worship. It is loud. It is crowded.  It is poor beyond anything you can imagine. It is filthy. The cows, revered in India, sit amongst the people. Use the same water to drink, bathe, and ‘poop’.

The sacred cow is a part of every day life.

The beautiful spirits of the ladies of India shine through in Varanasi.

One of the local boats decorated for DiWali.

The chanting, worshipping, the bells clanging and the prayers sung continues all night. Yogis are dancing and chanting in minimal wraps – old and young together. It is profound. As Americans, we don’t fully grasp religious wars that have gone on for hundreds of years. I have a better understanding of this now. The hope, no, the certainty of an afterlife and what it holds is larger than the everyday suffering these individuals experience. It is an all-consuming meditation and celebration throughout life. And each evening, every day of the year, at sunset, seven monks perform a ceremony of thanks to God Shiva for the day he has provided. All come to witness and pray.

A father and son enjoy DiWali together.

As difficult as it was to bear witness to all of this, it is one of the most profound experiences of our lives. I hope the pictures give you a glimpse into this most auspicious of cultures. Namaste.

*Written by Susan Kelly

Post 7: Seeking India – Moment of Silence at Taj Mahal

Our guide said he had a unique way to see the Taj Mahal:  a very early start – 4:30am – first in line – no backpacks (to get through security faster) – once inside run to the tomb.   As a result we were alone inside the tomb for 10-15 minutes.  Our guide steered us right.  50,000 people a day visit the Taj – and we were alone inside.  We could hear the wind echo.  Then we leisurely walked the grounds as a line formed to enter the tomb.

For those who do not know – The Taj Mahal is a tomb that was built over 22 years to house the wife of the emperor.   Beautiful white marble with inlaid gems.  I am thinking of building one for Susan.

Feeling blessed today.

 

*Above excerpt written by Michael Kelly

The only people in the tomb, we stood in silence listening to the wind sing through the dome, the birds rustle their wings, all amidst marble carved like lace.

“It allowed us to have absolute quiet to experience what the Taj was designed to be – a beautiful, spiritual and otherworldly homage of love to his wife.” – Susan

The Taj Mahal welcomes 50,000+ people per day to enjoy it’s beauty.

Our wonderful guide had us up and out at 4:30am to be first. We were in the chamber – alone – for a good 15 mins. It allowed us to have absolute quiet to experience what the Taj was designed to be – a beautiful, spiritual and otherworldly homage of love to his wife. Truly, within the high dome the marble is cut through like lace and the wind whispers and echoes throughout. With the birds fluttering wings included the sound is what heaven and beautiful eternity must sound like. I was enthralled and full of gratitude to bear witness before the crowds descended.

 

*Above excerpt written by Susan Kelly

Susan being the lovely lady we all know and adore.

Smiles for miles with these two lovers in the sacred land of India.

Post 3: Seeking India – Mumbai – Our First Morning

 

The noise.  The insistent horns shouting at each other to move aside – so many horns, so many cars. So many people, sounds, smells, colors and textures.  Bleary eyed, Michael and I try to walk off the jet lag by exploring the streets of old Mumbai. As is our custom, if the sun is up we need to keep moving. It’s the only way to acclimate. Snaggle toothed, grinning, sari clad with braids down her back, “Ceila” spots us and assures us she doesn’t want anything from us, she is a shop owner, and will just show us around a bit. Before I can tell Michael to not make eye contact and keep moving, she has roped us in and we are wandering side streets in tow. Turning the corner, we are approached by two Hindi men holding incense, rose petals, and wrapping string around our wrists as they place a holy dot of red on our third eye and insist we eat 5 good luck pods they slip into our hand. Celia presses us to do as they say, pay them for their blessing, or who knows what might happen to our children. (Family: please watch for falling objects over the next 72 hours, since I must admit I didn’t swallow the pods.). Ultimately, Michael hands several thousand rupee to Celia and she releases us back to our own destiny. Old Mumbai is a swirling maze of erratic energy, noise, pulsing life, and more humans than I have ever seen in one place. Our first few hours in India and the refuge of the hotel seems like nirvana.

*Written by: Susan Kelly

Post 6: Seeking India – Varanasi – The Eternal Flame & Death

It is said Shiva gifted the earth with an eternal flame, and handed its oversight to an Untouchable (in the Indian four tier caste system untouchables rank 5) to watch over for all eternity. The flame and the untouchable’s descendants reside in Varanasi.

Varanasi, India sits on the sacred Ganga River

The Ganga River is sacred. To die in Varanasi and be cremated on the banks of the Ganga is the greatest gift any Hindu can hope for. It means you will break the cycle of reincarnation and ascend to heaven. People come here to die. And within twelve hours of passing, the body is shrouded, placed on a wooden stretcher, carried through the streets to the ghat, down the stairs to the water.

Families gather on the Ganga G river to say farewell to the deceased.

Watching this ceremony we bore witness to countless families bring their loved ones to their final destination. The keeper of the body, someone the family chooses to watch over the care taking, takes the body down to the river and, for the last time cleanses through submersion in the holy waters. Moving to the steps the body remains until a pyre can be set and the body transferred to the flame. The family remains until the body turns to ash.  The caretaker then takes a very small clay urn of ash and facing away from the water throws the ash over his shoulder as a final goodbye. He and the family leave without turning back – for to turn back may hold the deceased longer to earth rather than moving to heaven. The cremator then shovels the ashes away, toward their inevitable home in the Ganga and begins preparation for the next body.  The ceremony takes approximately two hours and it is continuous 24 hours a day seven days a week.

Locals carrying their deceased loved one to the Ganga G to say fare well.

The wood is stacked high and always available for the next pyre. The herbs, sage and other blessed oils are thrown into the fire.

wood stacked for daily cremation ceremonies

The eternal flame shines light and the eerie glow of six or seven pyres burning continually casts an otherworldly halo, even on moonless nights. There are no tears of sorrow.

Although a solemn ceremony, there is joy and acceptance of this birth-death-life cycle. Our guide, a local priest and Brahman answered my question about the smell. In fact there isn’t one – he said it is a miracle and to date there has been no scientific explanation. Michael leaned over to me and put it quite succinctly – the whole city stinks, you just can’t make out what’s what Susan. Hmmm.. maybe he’s right, but I like Shailesh’s explanation better.

Michael and Susan enjoy their knowledgable tour guide in Varanasi – Shaliesh

The next morning as we were ‘strolling’ past the cremation area, Shaliesh pointed out a body being carried to the river. Just before they reached the bank, the body tipped from the stretcher,  the body fell to the ground and family began scrambling to retrieve, raise and reposition the corpse. It was, at best awkward. Shaliesh, in his uncanny seriousness laced with wit, looked at us, shook his head and declared, ‘this is not a good sign’. I heard Michael mumble under his breath, ‘no shit’….