A couple of days ago we followed the river past a funeral of men where they were burning a body on a casket of sticks. Our destination was an old Ashram where the Beatles once stayed in the 1960’s. We finally found the deserted grounds with the gates locked. A caretaker approached us and we were informed that it would be 20 rupees to look inside. We paid the ‘baksheesh’ and entered the overgrown jungle of ancient walkways, dilapidated buildings, super-sized spiders in gigantic webs, vibrant butterflies and tropical birds.
As we walked through the grounds I started to imagine what the Ashram would have been like in its time. Who were the great sages? Who stayed in the two-story stone huts? What epiphanies bestowed its visitors? What did the Beatles learn during their stay? How were they inspired? Why was it all let go? The mosquitoes started to attack in droves and we were forced to retreat. On the way out, we started talking with one of the guards who quickly became Bob’s ‘brother’ after he realized he was a Canadian ‘Indian’. I hope to come back another day for a full tour with all my safari gear in tow for some serious bush-whacking.
As we walked through the grounds I started to imagine what the Ashram would have been like in its time. Who were the great sages? Who stayed in the two-story stone huts? What epiphanies bestowed its visitors? What did the Beatles learn during their stay? How were they inspired? Why was it all let go? The mosquitoes started to attack in droves and we were forced to retreat. On the way out, we started talking with one of the guards who quickly became Bob’s ‘brother’ after he realized he was a Canadian ‘Indian’. I hope to come back another day for a full tour with all my safari gear in tow for some serious bush-whacking.
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