Remembering India

In seven days, God created the earth...

… and it took 7 days to change mine. I just landed in Dehli, left alone with the cheapest backpack and vivid memories of a distant world, when suddenly my two good friends appeared out of no where, smiling and welcoming me to the 'Wishconcert (a)live in India'; a special event of three backpackers in their early twenties jumping from one dream show to another.

So where are we going to? Rishikesh, replied Julia while checking the Lonely Planet somewhere in a shabby room right in the heart of the 16 million capital. As April marks the beginning of a milder and more pleasant season in the Himalayas, thousands of tourists are heading up north, leaving behind the rising temperatures and monsoon of the southern part. Seeing my two friends constantly smiling with sunshine covering their faces, lovely vibrations from everywhere are literally invading my space. In no more than three days I finally surrendered and was conquered by a feeling of extreme love towards Indian culture and its people, the way they look at you, talk with you, and treat you. I crossed the Ganges River to trace down the music that could be heard everywhere in the holy mountain village during late afternoon hours and passed by a local Ashram. Wondering whether or not I was allowed to enter, the feeling of childish curiosity surpassed my shy personality, and I carefully approached a bank to have a seat. Before I could take a look around, several elderly people were standing and starring at what seemed to be their first foreigner they had ever encountered. Overwhelmed by so much attention while intimidated by their unashamed looks, all I did was respond with a big smile to such a strangely felt observation of my appearance. The use of words would have been senseless anyhow because neither of us was speaking a common language.

After a while of communicating with facial expressions, feet and arms, the music stopped and everyone except me knew it was dinner time. People started gathering in front of a stairway, taking off their shoes and washing their hands. “Let's go eat” sounded familiar and before I realized what was going on, one of my new friends was eagerly waiting for me to follow the crowd to the basement of the building, taking a seat on the floor next to the others forming a circle of people. Once the room was filled and everyone seated, the food was served immediately; plates made from dried banana leaves were packed with steaming rice, spicy-looking traditional Daal, Chapati and some vegetables. I knew that waiting for a knife, fork and spoon was hopeless so that I slowly started to grasp for food with my right hand.

Sometime during this meal an intense feeling of happiness and prosperity ran through my heart, affecting every single cell of my body. Weary past life memories were blown away by a fierce storm of promising emotions for a bright and sunny future. At that moment I was not even aware of the many mysteriously life changing dreams that were about to unfold and that the 'Wishconcert' just had started.

By Arthur Hannert 16. October 2009