My friend and I land in the darkness, heat and humidity of
New Delhi at some dizzying jet lagged nether hour, neither night or day. With
the aid of a 3-wheel-toy-boy “tuk-tuk,” we opt for the aptly named Hotel Om near
the airport for an early morning flight to Rishikesh. The back streets are
clear, closed and quiet. The living standard is lower by degrees. dark
carbon-dirt soot blankets the streets. We pass the Radison Hotel, secured by an
armed guard because we fit the profile. It’s air-coned and luxurious inside, as
would be a Western Hotel. The contrast is stark. Herein lies the first contrast
between the first world and the developing one. Based on energy use and
consumption. Glad I’m here – but why and what I know not.
In the light of day appears the frenetic and chaotic India I
was last familiar with. With gusto and adrenaline, head to the new domestic
airport for a one hour flight on Kingfisher
to near Rishikesh, where we meet a friend named Myonk, a young educated guy
resisting an arranged marriage who runs his family’s $3.50/night
accommodation.
Begin contemplating
explorations into the high Himalayas, the possibilities of Leh and Kashmir, areas
Myonk has explored by motorbike, ubiquitous in Asia.
It’s 11 p.m., on the rooftop of the hotel, the same full
moon over mountains, over Rishikesh. Need to disconnecting to world back home.
Take it easy. Adjust to time zone. Now, here, breaking boundaries and
limitations.
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