The Fat Old American Man
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11/15/05 – Tuesday
For the next two days, habit makes the Foam hyperactive. Long walks up and won the Grand Trunk Road produce interesting smells, sights and sounds; a banking errand to central Kolkata yields an equally fascinating sensory overload (as well as a personal-pan, double cheese pizza at Pizza Hut in a ritzy mall on Madame Camac Road at Ho Chi Minh Lane. There are streets named after other Communist heroes also. The elected government of West Bengal has been Communist for many years. The downside is that constant worker strikes or bandhs have limited investment in the region; the upside is that there are more social services and less get-ahead stress. The pace of life is decidedly more leisurely than in Mumbai.) Finally the Foam realizes that he’s arrived at a monastery for a reason: to still the heart, mind and feet. By the time he has returned to Belur Math from downtown, surrender is complete.
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My kind of Commie town,
Kolkata is!
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11/17/05 – Thursday
The day is spent in journal writing, reading, napping and meditation at the Temple. At the ghat (an opening with stairs on the bank of a pond or river for ablutions, clothes washing, idol immersion, etc.) on the Ganges, devotees plunge into the holy water, an activity for which the foreigner does not have sufficient antibodies.
Clumps of giant water hyacinth and mangrove float downriver toward the Delta and Indian Ocean. Small scary ferry launches carry pilgrims from the ghat north to Dakshineswar on the opposite bank, a 20-minute ride. Dakshineswar is the site of the temple where Ramakrishna served as priest and resident sage for about 30 years (1863-1893). When the Foam’s spiritual pen pal, JC, arrives from Bubaneshwar (1 hour south), he and his parents will act as guides to special places with the Math grounds, the Dakshineswar temple precincts and the more distant, rural birthplaces of the sage and Holy Mother (Karampukur and Joyrambati respectively).
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