Abundance

MAHARASHTRA



Mumbai



If Kolkata is the Paris of India (even though from what I saw the artistic and cultural level of Paris is not even remotely matched), then Mumbai has to be its London. Fast-paced and buzzing.

19:20
After avoiding a 30-odd strong queue of sweaty Indian men by rushing to a counter that luckily just opened to get my train ticket to Santa Cruz station, I turn back to find that a bunch of people have gathered on the way. I make it through them to realize that they're circling an interesting scene. a couple of men, helped by one of those policemen with the wooden stick, are holding a guy's hands behind his back and tying them together. The man is bending forward and struggling pointlessly. After tying his hands they start hitting his back and ribs rather angrily. The policeman is just supervising, making sure the beating goes well. "He's a thief, a pickpocket", explains my mate Rahul, whom I had met for some shopping down Linking road and Hill road in Bandra. They have some fancy restaurants and cafes there. A good butcher too, reputed for his beef. Gotta hit that one some day. In a country so over-populated and with such diversity (diversity of political views, religion, life styles...), I understand that the law and order has to make itself respected with an iron fist. Such a show of repression as I witnessed today made an good example of that thief to the public. Steal and you will get a beating, the police will make sure of that. There are so many people around that the only way to maintain order is to create a strong fear of such drastic punishments.

The rush "hour" in public transports (Trains!) goes from 7.30 till 11am and from 4.30 till 9pm. No time for a yawn. Crowded trains where you may not be able to find a seat but you don't want to either because of the extreme heat. better to raise both arms, grab a handle hanging from the bars above and raise your head to try and catch some air. The bodies sexily intermingled. Elbows and foreheads. Wet underarms in faces. And they say India has lost its eroticism. Managed to find some seats with your friends? A few stops to go? Perfect, let's have a game of cards! A handkerchief placed on the laps and let's deal the cards. But fast.

The next stop in Kajur Marg, my stop. As I try to stand by the exit (a door which is constantly open to let both the air flowing in and people sticking their body out to catch the air), a group of people insist that I stay at the back of the train facing the exit. It turns out they're also getting off, but the rule is that, especially at busy stations, people should get on the train before getting off! Nice piece of Indian logic: people should board the train first, find a seat or a place to stand before letting people off. So the train stops, we hold as far back as possible to avoid the flow of people rushing in like crazy, looking for a seat only to realize that there is none available, then grabbing a handle somewhere between the rows of seats. The trick, if you're on for a long journey, is to stay as close as possible to some seats to be able to grab them as soon as someone raises from his seat. Only when the crowd has settled can we start struggling our way through the packed wagon to try and reach the exit.

Cows

Jaya is of an Hindu family. She sometimes wear a bindi but only to go with a saree or other typical Indian clothes, purely as a fashion attribute. She sometimes smoke or drink Indian wine, and party with her friends. We can also talk about all kind of subject with her. She travelled quite a lot around the world, and in Europe. I think that her travelling habits have something to do with her open-mindedness. Most Indians I met tell me they've never travelled outside of India, either it's too expensive, or India is big enough a country and they don't feel the need to travel outside of it.

When I ask Jaya what she thinks about cows (which is a holy animal in India), she tells me they are treated as Gods over her, and are sometimes seen as the Mother. With their big, long, beautiful eyes, they do remind her of a mother. Other Indians will say the same thing, always replying the most seriously. Cow = mom. It's therefore a very respected animal.

Hare Krishna

7:30
Breakfasts with my friends the Krishna monks. Very simple and vegetarian food. Yuk. Before serving the food an offering is made to Lord Krishna in the form of a little amount of the food we're going to have, so he can have a bite and give us His blessings in return. When I ask about the meaning of this (How does it actually purifies the food to leave a plate on the floor for a few minutes? Do they really think a superior being purifies it?), I'm being told that "it is not like Lord Krishna is coming down on Earth just to help himself to some rice, it's more of a symbol". Trying to reason scientifically, I then suggest that we could weight the plate before and after the offering to see if it is lighter after we take if back. But, once again, "it's not like that", Lord Krishna only eats a tiny portion of food, like a single grain of rice. Moreover, he's got a lot of plates to bless all around the world, so he better keep some of his apetite. I reply that it'll be possible to weight the plate precisely enough to see if, yes or no, a grain of rice has gone. They laugh.

By trying to see how far they go to rationalize their beliefs, I find that they justify scientifically some concepts (soul, rebirth), but at first look it seems there is no actual explanations to most of their rituals (prayers, offerings), rituals which are more mystical and beyond reason. Which they simply believe in, and therefore doesn't call for a rational explanation.

Jean-Paul, Canadian, named after Sartre, has been a monk at the ISKCON temple for over a year. Like his comrades, he wakes at 4 in the morning. He prays for 2 hours, then meditate individually for an hour and a half.


The prayer, or Maha Mantra, consists in 108 "beats" which you have to say 16 times a day. A "beat" is this:

Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare
Hare Ram, Hare Ram
Ram Ram, Hare Hare

To be said no less than 1728 times each day! It takes about 2 hours of their time. If you skip a beat, you have to start all over again. By singing this mantras, they liberate their karmas to achieve happiness. They extract the purity of the soul by cleaning away the mud that covers the diamond, the pure soul. By starting singing those early in life, everyday, we can hope to join Lord Krishna in His Kingdom at some point, liberating our soul (Jiva Muktha) and achieve wholeness. Some chosen few accomplished this in their lifetime, like the prophet A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, who liberated himself and could therefore start spreading the Krishna Consciousness. Orelse liberation can be obtained at the time of our death, in which case we're freed from the cycle of reincarnations. Otherwise, of course, we can start in this life and carry on our faith in Krishna and singing of the mantras in our other lives, in order to attain the Nirvana (Nir=negation, Vana=forest ; "Come out of the forest of the material world").

11:00
Jean-Paul takes me for a tour around the temple and its pretty garden, their miniature version of Vrindhavan, the birthplace of Krishna.



20:00
I'm meeting up with Ashok Sawant, who will host me from now on.

Mumbai

13:00

Terrence, an old Indian weirdo approaches me at the Cyber Cafe, he speaks a few words in French. I'm not easily impressed unfortunately for him. He starts talking spirituality and wants to show me the true reality through a guided tour of Dharavi, the reputedly "biggest slum in Asia", for a little money. I reply that I'm not interested to pay to have someone showing me misery. And I'm currently satisfied about meeting middle class Indian people as their life is already very different from mine and I learn a lot from that, and that too is reality for me anyway. His arguments range from assuring me that I will remain ignorant unless I follow him there (as 60% of Mumbaikars live in slums) to "I will not show you things but make you go through unique experiences" to "I don't take tourists for walking and talking dollar bags". Not working for me, and he will leave me with those words: "You will forever be the rotten apple!!!".

I would like to visit Dharavi sometimes, or some other place of extreme misery, but I certainly won't do it as a financial exchange with a "guide". I would much rather get in touch with some people who help one way or another, with education or other issues. The exchange would be much more genuine and interesting.

15:00
Santa Cruz station, West Side.
I drop my backpack at the Pillay's family house, with whom I will spend the next few days. I meet Victor and Leena and Noel, their son. According to Noel I look like an environmentalist, kaki green combats and "Discovery Channel" hat, black tee-shirt, trekking shoes and camera bag.

21:00
I meet up with some members of the www.couchsurfing.com website for some drinks at Mocha Cafe, a trendy bar in Bandra. The area is nice and lively, quite fashinable but not over the top, rather easy-going. I will sleep at Versova at Vivek's place. He writes scripts for the movies and he knows quite a few Indian actors (including Nandita Das) and a lot about French movies.