Journey to India

After picking Mehdi up in Kolkata, we are back in Varanasi. It's so good to have him with me to share in the responsibilities. I realise now that it takes a fair amount of energy to balance being a tourist, visit family, write, and connect with the all the wonderful people I would like to connect with.

 

During our last visit, Deobrat and Pandit Shivnath Mishra, classical sitar artists, were very kind in hosting us in their Academy of Indian Classical Music, which was under construction at the time. During that time I had been doing during daily drawing sessions with their 10 or so tabla students, aged 7-15, and working in a little bit of English lessons, based on Deobrat's suggestions. The process was incredibly popular, and therefore successful. I think it was popular because though they have art lessons in school, it is never with the freedom to draw nonsense, or scribble, or draw what they want. This new freedom resulted in a proliferation of wonderful drawings, from wild tactile experiences to concise drawings of fruit, landscapes, flags and tablas. So when we came back after a week, we were all very happy to see each other.

 

Mehdi took over, and added to the process by bringing wooden building blocks, intended for his Sri Lanka trip. These were also a big hit. The Mishras were in and out, doing a concert in Delhi and then in Chennai. They had various aggravations with cancelled train tickets and construction delays on their academy, and together we commisserated on what didn't work in India.

 

The question of what to focus on during this trip to India comes up for me every day, as someone recently commented on my blog. There is so much in India that is beautiful, and so much that is not, such as in any country. I realise I may sound snotty and uppity about the pollution and other unacceptable aspects of India, but I don't mind if I sound like that. The bottom line, for me, is that the health of India is compromised severely, and I do not wish to see India die a slow painful death. I am sure that won't happen, but I am wondering whether the rescue will have happen in the eleventh hour, after much pain and suffering has already happened needlessly. Today on the way to the Main Ghat, to have Bashu's head shaved, I suddenly envisioned how painful it must be for a cow to die on the street, as a plastic bag gets clogged in its intestines. Would anyone notice? Would anyone see the cow's suffering? I had heard these things happen and in Delhi some people do emergency surgery on cows.

 

On the way back from the ghats... unbelievably, I saw a cow lying in its death throes on a pile of garbage at the very spot that I had envisioned this. I am not given to clairvoyance, so I was startled. The cow's eyes were rolling, its head was thrusting this way and that, and it was covered in thousands of flies, an unusually high number. I did not rescue it. I moved on, and I saw beautiful children playing a hundred meters further on. Both the cow and the children are reality and both existed. But I choose to describe the cow, in its death throes, as the cliche of beautiful Indian children has been done over and over and over again. I will no longer take photos of beautiful children only.