The Ganges River is to my knowledge the holiest river in the world. People from all over India, and the world come here to bathe away their sins and be washed anew, they come here to die, and be cremated on the shores. Cows drink and relieve themselves here, the river provides drinking water for many many people. This River is the Goddess in all Her aspects. Its the birth of beginnings, the renewal needed to continue on in sustained life, its the death taker when it is time to pass on to another world. The entire cycle of our human existence is contained and represented in this River, both literally and figuratively. It is worshiped by the people of this country as well as the rest of seekers through Hindu paths.
Varanasi is the main place of pilgrimage for this River. But truly? The river here is so septic, so toxic that I had no intention of going anywhere near the water while in Varanasi, which we haven't gotten to yet. So I had set my sights on Rishikesh, which is one of the northern most towns that sits closest to the mouth of the river in the Himalayas. Hoping the water would be cleaner here I had intended on bathing in the Ganges in my own ritual of cleansing and recommitment to the Goddess path I have been walking for over 11 years now.
So imagine the weirdness I felt when Jon and I were standing on the Lakshman Jula bridge suspended over the Ganges, getting ready, not to take a dip in the river in some inspired ritual of celebration and renewal, but to go on a rafting trip down the river! I looked at him and said something to the effect that it was the craziest thing ever!
I have to say here that I am completely in love with river rafting. The first time I did it was last September when we made our trip to the Adirondacks with friends and rafted down the Hudson River. It was so beautiful, so exciting, and just simply thrilling. While looking through our Lonely Planet guide in preparation for coming to Rishikesh, I saw that they had Rafting Outfitters, and thought that I HAD to do it again! But this morning I thought, "hu? Is this what I should be doing here? Here? On this sacred river?"
So on we went to find our van. There were 10 of us total on the raft including our guide. There wasn't as much preparation or instruction as we had the first time I went, but I shrugged it off, as the river was running pretty low on water, and I thought that perhaps the river was a class 2 at most. We got in and went for it.
What can I say? The water was cold, crisp, the rapids that came were actually up to a class 3 and it was thrilling. We all jumped in, and I realized, I was dunking my self in Ganga Ma! Certainly not the ritual I had envisioned, but there I was, floating on my back letting the water carry me as She will. Through the rapids, and the waves, I tried soooo hard to keep from smiling and squealing in glee, but I couldn't help myself, and I swallowed ALOT of water. Yes. You read right. I drank of Ganga Ma. I looked over at Jon, and thought "Oh gawd... I am so going to need antibiotics after this!"
But as we were drifting along in the placid section of the river I thought with a smile that this was perfect. This was Ganga Ma. The living, the dying, the rotting, and the divine play that it all is. I was playing along the surface and the rhythm of the Sacred River and it was just as sacred a ritual as any other I could have created for myself. In Sanskrit there is a word, Leela. It is the word representing Divine Play. And I thought, or perhaps remembered that thats what all of this is really. It is all God/dess, and we were merely floating along life in the Divine Play that everything occurs in. I felt so in a state of joy and thrill... I couldn't stop smiling... and of course more water splashed into my mouth and nose!
(I have to take a bit of a pause here, to send a private note to dear Lisa, who when saying goodbye to me before my leaving for India said in the most ominous tone, "Do NOT go in the water! DON'T go in that river." Well sweetie... not only did I go in, I swallowed! ;)
As we drifted along, there was a bend in the river with a small sandy beach. There was a huge crowd of rafts and people gathered in the water and on the sand. For a while we thought that perhaps someone had drowned. As we got closer we realized that a jeep had careened off the cliff overlooking the river, and people were trying to pull the jeep out of the water with ropes off of all the rafts.
It was so surreal. We rafted over as well, and the scene was ugly. On the beach in front of our raft was a man lying face up with blood coming out of his mouth. It was obvious to me he was dead. There is a palpable density to a dead body that I can't explain, but its visceral in its effect on me, and I assume others who pay attention to such sensations. On another raft was a young boy in shock with blood on his shirt, and next to him was a young woman with blood all over her face, her eyes closed, and it appeared she was coming in and out of consciousness. There was also a young man who appeared better off then the others, but very dazed. I later realized he had a very bad concussion, but not other obvious external injuries.
The cliff top was high. I have no way of guessing now how many feet the road was from the bottom. But finding help was a challenge, as people tried to use their cell phones, and others continued to struggle with the jeep, which I couldn't quite understand.
Finally, two guards or scouts or police officers came running down the cliff along a makeshift path and checked the man on the beach. After checking for a pulse, they determined him dead and moved on to the group on the raft. There was much chaos and no one seemed to be in charge, not even the officials. Finally, and I'm not sure how or why this happened, but all three injured victims were put on our raft, so that we could take them to a hospital or somewhere down the river where there could have access to transportation in order to get them there.
I think that from this point on, I felt like as if in a dream. I don't know that I was in shock, but I was a bit numb, a bit in a state of disbelief. In a matter of seconds the mood and the energy of the day had completely changed, and we were now trying to get them in our raft in a way that wouldn't further injure the girl, and still fit us all in so we could paddle as fast as possible to get them to proper help.
I somehow ended up on the front end of the raft. The two front paddlers are the ones that set the pace for the paddling, and it became for me some sort of trance meditation. All I had in front of me was the dig in, pull back, lift, bring forward and dig in again rhythm of the paddle in the water. That was my entire world for however long it took us to get to the next stop.
We stopped at a ghat that was apparently close to a clinic. People rushed down to assess and help. The clinic was apparently only capable of first aid assistance so they asked the boy questions, which he couldn't answer due to his shock, and gave the girl what I can only guess was a sedative or perhaps a pain killer. She couldn't open her eyes, or speak, her leg was possibly broken and she had a severe concussion on her forehead. She could respond at times to prompts with hand gestures and after receiving the injections was able to write down a phone number of relatives in New Delhi.
We were then instructed to take them further down the river for a place to carry them to the hospital. We paddled again. The squeals and shouts of fun were now replaced with a thick silence with the exception of the occasion command or questions for the victims.
After landing at another ghat past the Lakshman Jula bridge, the doctors that had met us at the other side of the river a 1/2 of a mile back were there waiting. The men gathered a long rug, placed the girl on the rug and carried her up stairs and onto the road. From there a car was waiting, and all three victims, along with a girl from our raft group went to the hospital.
I asked another one of our raft mates what had happened, as they had been able to extract bits and peices of the story from the little boy when he was able to be coherent in Hindi.
And here is what I learned. The man on the beach "cracked his head open" and died, and was the father of the boy and girl. The mother was trapped in the car under water and "lost". Which explained why there was so much effort to get at the car. The young man with the concussion was the driver and then there was the young boy and young woman, his sister.
Once the car drove away, our rafting group disbanded as we were all near where we had started and were staying. 3 of our crew ended up with the victims at the hospital in order to see to their care and help in any way they could. Jon and I walked back to our guest house in silence.
When we got back to the room, Jon asked me how I was doing. Truthfully, I was numb. Not feeling anything really. I remembered that in a very detached manner, I had looked at the dead man on the beach and thought in amazement, how one minute we are going about our lives and the next minute the lights are just out. We die. I never quite know where to file that in my brain. But sitting there in our room, I really couldn't come up with any emotion at all. He then asked me if I had done this before? Had I helped rescue or assist in a rescue before? No. I hadn't even thought of that or to name it that. I was in shock.
After taking showers, and taking a nap, while Jon worked on his laptop, we went to lunch. I noticed that I was feeling tingly all over and a bit lightheaded. I realized that it was part hunger, and adrenaline aftermath, and some anxiety as well. We bagan to dialogue a bit about the whole experience and I felt my self come back into my body.
I still don't quite know where to place this day in my brain, my body, my experience. I am not lost on the fact that Ganga Ma showed me many of Her facets, and that this accident was certainly part of that. And I wonder or perhaps realize that death, tragedy, abrupt shifts in reality are also part of the Divine Play. It all means the same to the Goddess, it all carries the same wieght. This isn't something that I totally understand, and yet my brain recieves it.
Ganga Ma was as intense as I imagined, only not at all the way I had envisioned.
This preteen boy, and older teenage girl are now without parents. They have family who will undoubtedly take them in and care for them. The trauma of todays events will have whatever effect it has to have on them. Life is what it is and we survive through it. But if you remember or think of it throughout your day, or even now as you read this, take a moment to send them a bit of comfort, some warmth, some peace and healing as they move into a life that holds a very different landscape then the one they knew this morning.
Much love,
e
Yesterday, my friend and partner in all things furniture moving, asked me what this pink thing on my wrist was. 
