Poemas sem tempo
poemas sem vozes
poemas sem pensamentos

esses poemas
esses
que nao se dizem
pouco se escutam

e se intersectam
com presencas fantasma

sem funcao
apelo qual emocao

sem projeccao
solidao ou fe

poemas sem nada
nesse vacuo amargo

quais poemas sao esses?
quais teoremas?

senao a essencia
a complacencia
a rima da nossa existencia?

no concreto farto e vasto
da humanidade.

Goa?
This is paradise, man.
Paradise.

One day they will grow.
One day they will know.

Aqui na vila pescatoria de mamallapuram, nos restos do tsunami, foram criados diferentes orfanatos para as criancas vitimas da tragedia.
Eu e a jacqui estamos a fazer voluntariado e temos passado as nossas tardes com estas criancas incriveis, de sorrisos inteiros, e que nos dizem ter medo de nada.
Ensinamos-lhes ingles, fazemos jogos e damos-lhes muitos beijos e colo.
Estas criancas querem ser medicos e engenheiros ou professores.
Teem sonhos e projectos, como todos nos.
No chao, por acaso varrido, ainda que com inconturnaveis mosquitos, deitam-se todos juntos para dormir. Debaixo do corpo nao teem sequer uma esteira de palhinha.
Nada.
A cozinha e lenha no chao, e fogo vivo.
E as roupas do corpo quando lavadas e estendidas, devem ser esperadas, enquanto os corpos nuzitos secam no telhado, sem roupas substitutas.
Estas criancas, como devem imaginar, sao lindas, e e uma alegria imensa passar o meu tempo com elas. Sinto que e tempo bem passado, e bem merecido.

Mas ao almoco, conhecemos uma arqueologista e professora universitaria francesa que aqui trabalha num dos muitos projectos humanitarios pos tsunami, que nos informou da historia chocante e decepcionante da maioria dos orfanatos.
Acontece que as criancas sao vendidas pelos proprios pais no sri lanka e trazidas para tamil nadu, onde vivem ate aos dezoito anos.
Durante esse tempo, os imensos turistas e o dinheiro de ajuda humanitaria recolhido do ocidente e distribuido pelas organizacoes dos orfanatos e posteriormente desviado.
Assim sendo estas criancas sao compradas e utilizadas como uma fachada (vitimas falsas do tsunami) para a recolha de fundos de ajuda.
Para terminar o karma, a maioria destas criancas serao mais provavelmente novamente vendidas aos dezoito anos para a Tailandia onde servirao casas de prostituicao.
Assim vai a vida humana. O mercado humano e devorador, e o maior e quase invisivel tsunami. Nao e drama, tragedia, ou TV. E realidade.

I am still searching.
But I don't know why I continue searching outside, trying to meet places and people that would perhaps satisfy my needs or rather contribute for my evolution.
There is nothing outside.
We try to fit in groups, or create communities, but is pointless.
There isn't a community out there for us to fit in.
The world is all a big community, and the only place we belong to.
An interdependent unity that lives within the tensions of its varied groups.
When you don't identify you are living in between, in the gaps, and fully in those tensions, and so you tend to look for a place to fit in so that you can get the support of people alike, so you don't feel fully responsible for yourself, to easy the way.
But truly, development, can only happen on your own, even though we can share our time and live with others on the surface of our lifes, and also learn with it.
To be in groups makes things feel easier on a superficial level, but the deep social tissues of relation ships are always full of knots and snags that you will have to end up trying to sort either by accepting them or by living through them in an attempt for change. In both cases you will have an involvement and a commitment with the collective that will use much of your energy leaving you without the psychological time for your full SELF development, and creating therefore concerns and responsabilities that sometimes develop into guilt or pain.
This attachment with the world is prejudicial for the full potential of the inner self and its most tranformational blossom.
The fact I reckon is that outside is not the answer. Everything we need is inside. Only we can give to ourselves what we need, all the answers for our sucess and full development, all the choices that lead to our happiness....

So
1.Don't be concerned
2.Be positive
3. Live within yourself
4. Don't be affected by external circunstances
5. Live to your aspirations.

I am now in a hill station staying in a beautiful but snort imitation of my manhattan dreamland penthouse, a large confortable bedroom, with two large windows and all surrounding views on the hills and forest: a rarety in India, as it even has warm water which is precious cause it's cold uphere in the moisty mornings and sunset foggy airs.
I came here to the top of the mountains in the pursuit of quietness and solitude for a deeper meditation and hoping that the high latitude with its extra gravity power might somehow enlighten and bring some sort of clarity into this buzzy New Yorker Londoner, bull shity, addicted brain of mine (attempt of short duration as you can see, I'm back on line, right here well caught up on the mouth of the monster!!!)...

But how interesting is the irony of life, I reckoned, when on my arrival to the internet cafe down the hill, in the busy bazaar, where the shops gather and the people pass in less frenetic walks then the ones I'm used to in the back yards of London, I met this guy, coincidently american, who I noticed by his angry shouts and frantic whacks on the table, caused by a visible impatience towards the very very slow internet connections we get on the hills!!! ( Please do appreciate my effort to write you by the way!)

Disturbed by his nuisance and alarming speedy breath, I attempted a calming conversation with him to soothe his anger. I advised him to calm down, "after all you're in India for Gods sake, why don't you come back later or try somewhere else in another town, may be a big city close by like Madurai, for that matter, you're getting yourself in a useless state man, chill out" and let me try to bloody log on in fucking peace, all right?
Shanti...shanti...OM

Then he told me, "no, no, that wouldn't be possible. This email was very important and he didn't have the time to travel for two hours to Madurai, what the fuck was I talking about?" He came all the way here and he was staying in a monastery, on the highest hill, a wonderful place, very quiet "you should come", he said " you are so isolated there, no noise, just you and the nature, full on peace, is awesome, you should really come, man, no one to bother you, there you're totally away from it all, no contact!!"
- Yes, sure!- I said, ironically, smashed with the explicity and specific irony of the school of life.


So, here he was, the radical practice of the wished isolation of my honest pursuit for the spiritual life, entangled in a monastery for the last two months and perfectly unable to cope with its most close and foremost reality, something as simple and unstressful as being in India, in a regular broad internet cafe.
Here is the anger well spot on the table that has been tactly unexposed and submersed in its pure state, while the man in its most naivity relies on a convent to heal his inadaptation and clearly neurotic New York life!!!

And so I learned, quickly and promptly, that we must be careful with our isolation and understand the real purposes of our meditation or sadhana.
We must understand why we really want to get away from it all, are we hiding from something or are we afraid of something else?

Are we meeting ourselves or are we disconnecting even more from the realm of our existence?
Anyway, philosophies apart,one thing I realised by being here, breathing the fresh solitude of the mountains: we can not forget that ultimately our inner self development is meant to serve the others, or god, if you believe on a higher sort of purpose in your skanky life!!!

Ultimately even if you have the deepest level of meditation, and an extensive knowledge and self awareness, that becomes pointless, if you can not use it for the service of your community, and the realm of your society!

We are ironically and controversly meant to live in groups!!!

Are the indians happy about the great amount of tourism nowdays?

Some are.they are doing so much money! they had land due to their belonging to a higher caste in the very first place, and so they are creating new hotels and business grows. their kids will be able to fly out to countries like the US and the UK for education and then comeback to develop their parents business!Sweet!

Some aren't. they never had property, they were always lower caste, they keep serving the big bosses, and now they are serving the white skinned (which they've been doing since colonialism, anyway!). Nothing changed, except their home (India) which is now more polluted and less their own.

And others, still, have no opinion. they are completely illiterate to opinate, considered untouchable, they are worried about marrying their daughters and having more sons, and they can't even realise the big picture, even though they are aware a lot is changing and a lot will change. "It's a dark age. It's the age of kali", they whisper me.

So, the development is massive but India is still completely politically corrupted; caste is still an issue; police are all powerful; justice is a joke; and the health system non existent.

How can we still keep walking around in bikins, having food in air conditioned rooms, and buying souvenirs on shopping malls, while across the street women are being raped, baby girls killed, people beaten to death by the police, children sold, beggars tortured, lower castes enslaved, widows misjudged, and others completely discriminated by their own religion?/

What are we to do? Where are we going?

Varkala, Kerala, South India

It was a beautiful morning. The sun raised itself gently, with all its power in the back of the house. I woke up to the clarity of the daytime and dragged myself to the varandah to sit on the bamboo chair on the porch and face the tropical forest ahead. The palm trees are so high and a few eagles fly around in search of food. I even saw a couple copulating this morning.

I can smell the sea and there's a small breeze arriving from its direction.
There's a freshness about the early mornings in India that is so lovely and leaves so quickly, that is so pleasant, I can't explain.
By 7am I start a long walk along the beach. The fishermen pull big ropes to catch their nets and bring them back to the sand full of fish. They ask me for help. Not because they really need it but because it's fun for them to see women helping them!
I laugh and carry my walk. Yoga starts at 8am with meditation and relaxation and finishes at 11am. Only after I eat my breakfast: porridge and fruit salad.
I am really happy I found a Yoga teacher that I really like and so I have classes every day now...
Then I read The Hindu Times, and worry for half an hour about the political and environmental world issues.
I realise there's more and more cases of chicken flu and make a conscious decision to become vegetarian again. I believe this is a sign from nature, a response for our mistreat and abuse of animals, but maybe I'm just crazy!!! Then I learn George Bush came to India, and I laugh of the puppet! When will he liberate America?

When will Americans liberate themselves?

I dive into the sea. And then, I stay there. There is no one around me for miles, I am on my own in the immense sea and it feels so warm and relaxing like a bath!
So I rest there for about two hours without effort. First I want to swim, and dive and play in the water. Sometimes the water comes into my mouth, it tastes salty and I caugh and laugh, and fight and tumble. Then I grow tired and I just stay there, quiet and still, letting the waves take me back and forth incessantly.
And I close my eyes and feel: wow! This is just like life. First you want to do things, then you grow tired, and you allow yourself to be still, to be carried with the flow!

But then, just then, a big wave comes and throws me into the beach with an umpredictable strength making me stumble and lose control till I get myself together, resisting the flow.

As I was saying "just like life! "

I look at Jacqui next to me swimming like a professional. In the back of her there's the mosque, high and luxuriant, beautiful! And I think of the Taj Mahal built for the sake of love!
And I wonder when will I be able to build something so massive for the sake of my lover, for the sake of all lesbians in this world?
It probably would be demolished in a second!

I smile in a secretive way like I meant to say I love you in a language only we understand, and I dive back into the deepness of the sea to forget the whole world again- and it's all light, and it's all good!!!!

I went for an ayurvedic massage today: my body was fully felt from head to toe as one, and fully opened from outside to inside.
It was then clear that my body and my soul were distintive parts, and slowly, slowly with the pressure and intensity of touch, I gave my body completely away.
I mean, was it me giving my body away, or was it the body itself that left me, unpossessed and free, without senses or will?

Two women, one in each side, roughly massaging me, turning me from one side to the other, dedicating their full energy to my body, who felt complete and gained a different awareness, forgetting its usual sense of structure- left or right, top and bottom- and becoming as confused about its direction as clear about its dimension.

I did not know anymore if I was lying on my back or on my tummy, where my knees where in relation to my shoulders, what it hurt, or it felt good.
All the usual logic of understanding, sensing and perceiving my body was lost and transformed into a big pleasant unity- a body.

Through the full concentration on that body, my mind was brought into it, focused and entirely embodied, and the result was a paradoxical liberation of this same mind.
To bring the mind into the body, and keep it there, in the moment of the body, interlocked, is to liberate all thought and evasion, developing mind's potential, using it for the evolution of body consciouness, that is ultimately your self awareness.

In the beginning of the massage, I still felt some pain on my joints caused mainly by the hard wood bed I lied in. Lots of immages floated in my mind: the sea and the cows, the flowers in the murals, the yellow light and the black crows, the fishing nets and the wood boats, the sounds and colours of beautiful Kerala ("gods own country", like they say)...

But as soon as those immages were gone out of my mind, it was just me left there, totally taken. And then my India was an outside Idea, and all the travelling a fable, a myth, or projection, a personal experience non the less.

And in that moment, India became a different place.
It became only the place I was in. It was then and there. And my body was totally present in it. I felt then and finally that I arrived.

To understand one's culture is to understand one's touch.

When you travel, when you're away from home for a long time (it's been 4 years for me now)- you're not in India, America, Brazil or England.... You're in a limbo, in a psychological place you create, a land you cultivate on your own, that is not called Home, but is rather a foreign space that you fill in, and transform into yours, where you live, from within you breathe. And that is the place called "away from home".

It is this place that becomes your sense of identity, and strangely enough, your stability. It is this place that is the source of inspiration, the roots of creation, and paradoxically this is the new "home"- "away from home".

"Away from home" I blossom, I feel free, independent, emancipated, creative, responsible and happy. So I stay 'away from home' and make this place, home.

Reports from paradise:

Beauty is a concept, a mind perception- a thought. We all know that anything can be beautiful if we see it that way, if we make a conscious choice to find beauty.
I have seen many beautiful sites. From the top of The Empire, the city of NY burns in the sun, tainted with an orange, red colour, massive and luminous, a beautiful witness of development and economic power.

Crossing the desert, facing the emptiness and the heat, dust on my face, on top of a horse, I see another beautiful site: far farway the top of the Pyramids rest as an old world, lost and survived, intact and certain of itself on a blue velvet sky.
As we ride close, the pyramids show their imposing sight, and the sphinx sits like a real queen of the desert, guarding and welcoming the passers by. It is beautiful!

On a sunday morning, we get the newspaper, get the bikes out, and drive to Hyde Park in London.The sun is out, the clouds are gone, we must enjoy, and there's green everywhere you look. For a few hours you forget you're in a huge city, you lay a sheet on the grass, near the lake, and relax, and you can see the ducks, the swans, the little birds, the flowers- and all of it is lovingly arranged in a design and order that is pleasant and so you admire the beauty of the kingdom.

You travel inside India, and you go up the mountains to see the sunset in hampi, and you climb the historical and enormous rocks of the Hindustan saying Hello to the monkeys and when you reach the top you look 360 degrees around you and you feel like you're seeing the world! I mean, you see miles and miles of green rice fields, full of life contrasting with a very blue sky full of flying eagles, you see the temples on tops of the other surrounding mountains like a dreamshore and you think: oh boy! this is ...beautiful!!!

Ok, you go up the mountain of Pao de Acucar all the way up to the viewpoint, and you face Humanity! You can see the cityscapes for miles surrounded by green lush from the mountains and a very blue ocean saying Hi to a likewise blue sky and you're seeing a beautiful city!!!

Or head to the amazonic forest, hear the birds, unexpected and vibrant; head to rajastan and discover labyrintic markets of spices and colour; head to the Himalayas and be fascinated by the dimension of silence!

From east to West the world is full of beauty and I'm sure you can find it everywhere, even around the corner from your house, and even inside of your own home.
Surely beauty lives within us, and we can feel it even if we're blind!

BUT......I have never seen anything, ANYTHING, SO breathtakingly beautiful like I did yesterday!!!

I dived into the ocean, still in The Andeman Islands and I've seen a new world!
Miles and miles of corals, exquisite colourful plants, wonderful beautiful shells cover the ground where fish with the most varied colours, sizes and shapes live in. It's very hard to describe because down there, in the deep ocean, the mind is not working, so you don't assimilate things the same way. A new awareness arises within you, you don't just see beauty in the aquatic life, you feel it, you are it!

Yellow, orange, pink, blue, brown, white, black- all of this in fluro psychadelic, shinning and glittery! I saw enormous fish, sea snakes, And a TURTLE face to face as big as me and you keep swimming and you keep seeing them...alll 3d like if you're inside NEMO!! And you can't believe it wasn't put there for you, and you didn't pay a ticket...

You just realize life is so wild and great and full of surprises all the time!

NOW, THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!!!!

Fast flight to Calcutta, or like they say nowdays KOLKATA. Everything is changing in India, even the city names. Embracing development in the "american way", the Kolkatians are creating a city full of options although without infrastructures, basic education or health needs assured. They are re-inventing their city and, very proudly, liberating themselves (theoretically and conceptually, which is a start) from the "british way".

Independence and self pride, acceptance of the new, embracement of the "modern way" are the fundamental values of the middle classes, who self-assuredly walk around on their brand new "pumas", with their last Nokia model in their ears, in frenetic masses, on their way to their new jobs.

"It's all about jobs, now"- tells me the south indian lady seating next to me on the plane, well wrapped in her beautiful silk blue sari. She pulls out the indian "Times" and arranges her big "old ladies 50's" non stylish, but yet trendy (in the artsy crowds of Brick Lane and Soho) glasses, sniffing her austere nose to the news- "Have you seen how they dress? All these tight jeans, and tops without sleeves? Not like you, very nice salwar khamiz, very nice. You look like real indian girl. You married? You should come and visit me. Here. I write you my address." - She starts writing her Kolkata address on a small, neat, piece of paper, in a very careful neat writing, while I look down on my salwar khamiz, depressively, disgusted with that enormous large piece of cloth I wear in India, that always makes me feel like a little girl or an old granny, depending on my mood, anything that is not sexy, stylish or trendy!!!

We land in Kolkata and the hair hostess asks on the mic:" Please remain seated' till arriving to a complete stop", to this literally everybody takes no notice. They open their seat belts, get up, open the luggage and rush to be the first, starting to push and arguing to get to the door. The air hostesses come out quickly like little soldiers trying to sit everybody down as the plane is still moving and we haven't even landed properly, but everybody ignores them, and tells them to mind their own business.
As usual indians can't cope with the rules of the modern world- what are you talking about paper forms and security measures?

I prepaid a yellow cab and ask to be driven to the Diplomat Hotel, in the heart of the town. For an instant a rush of New york memories crosses my mind and I feel transported to the Big Apple while looking at all the yellow cabs on the roads, all the people rushing on the roads, the big buildings, the neon signs.
If it wasn't for all the slums and improvised card and newspaper huts inbetween them, the ageing decaying look of the buildings themselves, the dogs running around, the beggars on the car windows walking miracoulously in the middle of the road, their clothes drying on the crash barriers in between, the babies lying on the sidewalks exposed to the car fumes, waiting to be breastfed or runover- this would be just like NY!!!!

We are now submersed by continuous traffic jams on big avenues. The
>cabs,cars, autorickshaws, colourfull trucks, bycicles, motorbikes,
>bikeshaws, buses, and trams are competing, beeping, swearing at each other.
>Instead of 2,3or even 4 lines there's a huge homogenous mass of transports
>hurring, crashing, fighting for space.
>
> When we stop at the traffic lights the driver turns off the engine and
>miraculously the all world outside my window becomes suddenly alive. A
>young seven year old holding her baby sister extends her hand to me, her
>dark eyes begging money, looking deep into my own eyes. "madam", she
>mumbles. I look for a ruppee but I have no change. I say"no" and look to
>the other side but in the opposite window there are 3 kids, between 7 and
>5 years old, fighting for space to smash their faces against the glass
>window. The taxi driver sends them away and I look at the goats on the
>sidewalks eating the rubish on the pavements, trying not to look, not to
>feel guilty, Knowing I can't change the world.
>
> I buy the newspaper at arrival, and rest in the skanky hotel ignoring
>the dust on my noisy fan. There are lots of things to do in the big city of
>Kolkata- a lot of cultural programmes are listed in the paper in different
>sections: drama, dance, cinema, performance, bookfairs, music, bars, clubs,
>restaurants, bookshops, shopping malls.
> I am surprised with the variety on offer, and smile with the special
>excitement that urban chicks like me get when arriving to a New City!!!
>
> We go for a walk down Park street and admire its life. There are many
>modern shops, hairdressers, nice looking restaurants - we have a coffee at
>"Barista", and we feel like we could be in London.
> Fresh conditioned air, wood tables, the smell of cappuccino with foam,
>the latest pop hits playing. If it wasn't from the glass windows looking at
>the outside we would be in London or NY!
>
> Outside there's a man staring through the glass window while I drink my
>fresh apple juice. He looks dark and dusty and it's obvious he lives on the
>streets. He stares at me while I write this with no embarassement, just
>staring, dreaming, wishing, knowing that never in his life he will be able
>to come in here, sit at the air conditioned wood tables, have a coffee with
>foam. He knows there's no hope for the ones like him, he knows he can be
>run overnight while asleep and no one would notice, a lot of his
>compatriots would actually be glad, no one would give a damn there was one
>less of them, less one beggar, less one frickshow, less another sample of
>the poor India, the no hope, no modern, no independent- the real India!
>
> Yes, Kolkata is a big city full of choices- shopping malls, cultural
>shows, restaurants and bars- but only for those who can, like us, because
>we are really fucking lucky, you and me, I tell you, so fucking lucky we
>don't even know it. But for many out there there is no other choice, and
>there won't be, and that's that. That's the world we live in, that's
>reality!
> No Mother teresa can change Kolkata, India, or the world- it is
>corrupted, inflamated, rotten.
>
> And while religion, politics and economic power will be having such an
>important growing place in our societies, the number of poor ones will also
>be growing!
> And that's the issue we need to tackle.
>
> Cause that is what's happening: NOW!
>
>
>

12 hours night train to Banaras- the city of light, knowledge and death.
Right at the center of Andhra Pradesh state, its importance rivals the beauty of the Taj, the markets of Delhi, the screens of Mombai.

Varanasi, the heart of India, the core of Hinduism, the "holy town".
On the train, I lay down with expectation and owe to the slowness of it all, certain of how amazing this journey through India has been happening to me.

- You Banaras going?- asks the passenger next to me.
- Yes, Banaras..
- Banaras! Banaras! Very special place. Very important. You from?
- Portugal.
- Portugal? (and to avoid more explanations, looking to his surprised face I just carry on: - ) - England.
- AaaaH! England! England! Very nice. Very good! Your friend?
- Also England.
- Also England. Very well. You together travelling.
- Haa. (yes, in hindi)
-Haa.Haaji ( ji is a form of respect in Hindi). Very good. very nice. Sisters?
-Friends.
-Friends, friends. Very nice. Very good.You, how old?
-25.
-25?Married?
- Not married.
-25? Not married didi (didi means auntie)?
-Haaji.
-Your parents?
-My parents Portugal.
-Portugal?
-Faraway.
-Faraway...(he repeated looking sad and disapointed) you very sad (he carried on). Very lonely, haaji?
- No, I'm ok. I'm european. europeans travel, always like this, no problem.
-No problem (he laughed a bit more happy). But very sad, didi: no marriage, no children, no parents. What are you, a christian?
-Well, not really- I replied.
- Well not really? What, no religion?
- Yes, that's right, no religion. (I tried to smile, to show him I was fine, but now was too late. He got up with the most sad face and devastated carried on:)
- No marriage, no children, no parents, NO RELIGION? Oh, my god, very sad ji, very sad.You Banaras going? You go down the Ganges and you clean your karma. All problem going after cleaning.Ganges, very pure river. Very powerful. You ganges going, washing, washing and you fully asking new karma, and everything going, everything changing in Banaras. Then new life coming: marriage, children, family. New good life, all life coming.Bhraman helping. You take flower, you take ghee ( butter in hindi), rice taking, giving to the Gods, always working, very good working. This is India, sister, The ganges is most sacred river, every time coming from the mountains, Haa? Himalaya coming, arriving to Banaras chchchchch, and in Banaras going in the other direction zhzhzhzh. You explaining.
- What?- I said- The sudden change of direction in the river currents?
-Haaji.
- I don't know.
- Don't know. You ji, school going, school teaching, good reading, good knowledge don't know. Me, don't know. No one knowing. This is magical power of the river. Magical power in India: Banaras!!!This why everybody going Banaras. Little baby, children hair shaving, hair giving to river, new life, good luck good karma going. Young girl, also young boy, Banaras going, asking good husband, good wife, good karma coming. Married people, single people also going, old people going, widows going, everybody going- all India in Banaras.
Really, Haaji, you seeing the peoples.
-The pilgrims?
- Haaji pilgrims. Many. Many. Going alive or dead they go. Some die on the way, some die there, some die before and family taking. In ganges we burn body, good good karma coming to family to spirit, no coming back, after burning in ganges, straight to Heaven, straight to the Heart of India, The Heart of God, The Ganges.
- Everybody?
- Everybody, but holy man, baby and pregnant women. That no burning. Just flowing.
In ganges flowing.Holy man, baby and pregnant women are pure, like Ganges, no need to burn.
-Haaji.
- Banaras will change your life. Always changes.
- That's where the river takes a different course.
- Different. very different. -he smiled, satisfied and really happy with my understanding.
And the train carries on while I look through the window.



I finally arrive to Banaras the day after, It's 45 degrees.
It's hot and dusty and we can't barely walk around. There's a strange silence within the noise of the city. We checked in a wonderfully beautiful old haveli, (room). The windows colourful glasses remind me of a little portuguese church and I sleep and rest in the AC room, like an angel.

The morning after I open the windows and lay in bed. The river is right there on my view. The stuffed dusty boiling air invades the room and with it come the insects, the smells of the Ganges, the noise of the cows yelling.

I feel like I am floating in the river while laying in bed, that's how well located the room is. I can see the people coming down the Ghats (steps) ringing their sacred bells, carring their flowers, ghee and incense in their little coconut baskets, the women's heads covered in lovely yellows, red, blue silks.
They arrive to the river wearing no shoes, they submerse their bodies in the very dirty water, in between the cows and buffaloes bathing, all the cow shit floating around, and the rest of bodies floating.

In the ganges all life happens: the women wash their cloathes, the men their cows, puja happens for pilgrims and locals twice daily, in the morning and at night, the kids play cricket, the older ones play in the water, couples hold hands, old people play cards. In the Ganges all life floats, right next to death.

In two of the more then twenty Ghats, dead bodies are carried. There they buy wood and simply burn the body.We saw the whole process of slow combustion, the body slowly disapearing in the fire. Sometimes families have not enough money to burn the complete body, so parts of it appear floating on the river, while we see the sunset on a late day boat trip of the Ghats.
Ups, there's a little head, you see? There's a foot...Look there's a whole goat.
How lovely!

But the most amazing is realizing how simple this life is. How strong mind beliefs can be. People believe and do get healed in the Ganges water, probably the most polluted river in the planet, full of garbage, cow shit, dead bodies. You want more bacteria?

I am certainly not washing my open wound in it! And another day passes. The river brings their life. In this water they wash themselves, cook their food, wash their goods, and burn their bodies.

The river, strong and large, changes direction and takes everything away. And everything goes, everything goes, even fear of death. It all seems connected, all feels like one same thing: life and death, water, earth...

I burn incense and take a shower in the Ac room to clean myself from the Ganges air.
And as my menstruation arrives I look at the blood coming out of my body and truly feel the cycles of life: everything begins and everything ends, everything passes, evrything flows, like the Ganges.

And then I sleep, and dream. And dream, and dream.

There' s this big eternal love , this strong wound in the heart this anxiety, this will to hug and stay, like a stone, present to the moment to being here, in this wonderfull country, India, my India. And what do I do with this love? with this feeling? with this strong pain for knowing i have to leave india and i have only 2 months left.
i love this india so so much that i need to share it with you. i feel so happy, so gratefull, so lucky so blessed to be in beautiful magical wonderful India, i don't know what will happen when i leave.how will i keep this lover in my heart? this pleasure, this peaceful happy feeling within me daily?

surely i ll just return/
India. India. wonderful feeling....

(...)All around us there are rituals: repetitive behaviour patterns performed with meaning and symbolic representation. It is the fact that ritual is so present, that religion is so openly talked and assumed that attracts so much the western tourist to India! The easy acess to another's culture!
It is to compensate the somehow lack of ritualistic performance, collective behaviour, gathering, coreographed rehearsed movement, that people come to the East, in search of the "mystical".

What we call the mystic behaviour is a result of a meaningfull act. It is born in the mental projections of ourselves (our thoughts and emotions) upon our actions (movements and interactions) filling them with meaning, attention, believes, awareness. Ritual is a manifestation of a conscious behavioural pattern. These physical-mind connection, its present awareness, lacking so much in the western society can only be replaced by one act: the performative act.

Theatre is the new ritual, a spiritual awareness exercise, a collective gathering. It's the salvation of Unity in Society, the unique possible replacement of Religious Thought and Practices. It is though not a religion, or a set of believes, but rather a collective act, it's impulsive rather then a form of control.

It is then fundamental that its development aims the sacred, the rite, the ritual, the collective and its clear purpose is to enshorten the gap between the individual and the collective consciouness.
It is therefore most important for all theatre practicioners to consider envolving the audience in their performance, and to offer this performance to a superior consciouness, the Cosmic Order, as a collective and sacred ritual.

That was always and it will always be the place of succefull performance in societies, and if History didn't happen in cycles we couldn't be so sure that research for the modern performance lays ultimately on the ancient roots of Performative social Behaviour- RITUAL!

from : " modern rituals"- a book of performative research in Eastern Cultures by Ana Baldaia

agua. agua, quero agua. e vento. e sombra, ou escuridao.
quero mar e rio e lagos e quero o frio, como um amante suculento de mansinho
quero o frio o fresco, azeitonas e limonadas
quero algo assim parecido tipo aquele prazer dos finais da tarde
ou o cheiro da terra molhada
preciso muito desse fresco
agora estao 47 graus em banaras e eu nao consigo respirar nem fazer nada
por isso estou na internet para esperar que o dia passe e a noite chegue
tudo e po, so po
e caminhar perto do rio impossivel
o cheiro da morte combustida e do fogo ardendo
as vacas morrem disidratadas, os velhos gretados pedintes
a merda no chao infinita entre os restos dos cadavers mal ardidos
e eu farta. isto e impossivel. o mais parecido com o inferno de Dante
que eu alguma vez experienciei
impossivel
conseguimos um bilhete de comboio para amanha e vamos fugir.

o percurso do rio?
pensamos ir ate a tailandia e pensamos ir ate sikkim
e depois de reflectirmos
decidimos ir ver de onde vem este rio louco
onde nasce o ganges?
e vamos meter-nos agora nas montanhas
em busca do frio, e da nascente da vida.

aqui vamos a caminho dos himalaias no comboio ascendente
paramos no taj mahal para tirar uma fotografia muito depressinha
que esta mesmo um calor impossivel
e depois prosseguimos
destination: rishikesh- capital do yoga.

yo...gaga...eu e estou tao gaga que vou desconectar-me e regressar ao hotel
onde nao ha electricidade para o ac funcionar mas pelo menos
ha escuro e sombra e assim lendo esperarei pelas estrelas.

ooohhhh....que horror, que calor.

Khali, khali ham, ham, om, om.



and I repeat khali, khali, ham, ham, om, om, looking at the priest at Khali temple, in the heart of Kolkata.



Khali- the goddess, of destruction, creation, life, death, protection- Time.



We walk in circles around the banyan tree, and touch the sacred stones, look at the goats being sacrificed feel sick with the smells, get touched by thousands of beggars, get scamed by the taxi driver and finally comeback to the hotel.



ufff!!! khali, khali, am, am, om. give me a break.

Jacqui drops ill. Diarrohea, vomits, cramps, muscular pain. She shouts and cries in contortions in bed. Fuck...oh where's bloody Khali now?



The day after she gets slightly better and I drop ill again. Diarrohea, vomits, cramps, muscular pain. Like a mantra.

Om, khali, khali, om.


We are fed water and rice.



It is hard and it is taugh to travel for so long in a third world country: you get bitten, ill, hot, depressed, opressed, enlightened, endarkened, happy, angry, chaotic!

But we feel everyday a little bit more connected to the soul of Mother India and we love this kind, grateful, hard mother, her gifts and teachings.



Everyday I become aware I will return to the west in 2 months, and I feel sad about leaving. Isn't that weird? I feel so fucked up, my body aches, it's hot, it's crap and still there's this strange magnetism that makes you want to love this dirty corrupted country!!!



So what is it about India that you love it and hate it so much?



And then I know with the same certainty that I will return to the west, that I will definitely have to comeback to the east! The east!


For travellers the sensation of being a foreigner, an outsider is so present, returning to society becomes if not impossible, not worthy.

From the two, one happens:



1. He either returns and stays in a same place, gets a normal life, settles and talks about his memories for the rest of his life.



2. Or he keeps returning, travelling, unable to ever settle, or fit anywhere, feeling like a refugee, everywhere he goes, even in his own country.



I sincerely wonder what will happen to me.



saudade

The river changes its course anytime without warning, rational logic or total understanding. I am surprised with who I really am. Surprised? Is that a real good word? Is there such a thing as real words? Maybe I'm scared to face myself truly, because when I slightly do, I see a monster, Kali, Black and bloody staring straight into my eyes, cleaning and polluting me down the gutter.
Self awareness is as much a revelation as it is a disease.

Now, please understand me, my friend. I am not depressed, I do not have a low self estime, or neither its opposite. I am fine, my dear friend, and only if you don't judge me, or try to analyze me over cheap coffee psychology you will KNOW what I mean.

But the truth is I find myself to be such a materialistic person, that I can't swallow anymore new age theory or practice.
Now, you say, fine, we all are materialistic, at least you're aware of it, how great. Or rather that I am just a Human being confronting Humanity itself, its evolutionary path, and like anyone else am entangled in its scratchy net. Voila!

But what? What do I do? I have changed. Two years ago I travelled India for six months, I've stayed in truly simple rooms and had a truly simple life. I ate chapati and rice, street curry and sweet lassies, I carried a small backpack, and enjoyed new age books. Then I returned to India looking for the simple life once again, but this time, THE RIVER TOOK ANOTHER PATHWAY. The most unexpected route came to me. I came to India to search for the spiritual path, the path of detachement and consciouness and now LOOK at myself, tired of simple rooms, tired of simple life, willing confort and swish rooms, posh dinners and interesting conversations, refusing new age books and reading hard classics, aware of the dirt on street restaurants, carrying a bigger backpack cause I did too much shopping,totally uncapable to sleep with coackroachs and eat with flies, tired of rats and filled with the sad understanding that India is in such a serious social and political enclave that no help to beggar, or conversation over dinner will help to change it.

India means women desequality issues, illiteracy, infanticide murders, cast discrimination ( a system based on pure open racism), a democracy runned by a family of power (the gandhian and their immaculate contacts) and a fake religion (like any other aiming to control and oppress its society)!!!

And what do I do with this knowledge? How sad is this world, hey, corrupted and skanky?
No more the simple life, bless the conforts of humanity!!! So fine, I go and accept capitalism, I work for the system, I have AC, I eat mistreated animals, I carry on feeding my sweet plaseur ghat, and hope that it will all go with the river flow? BUt fuck,! Systems of oppression are everywhere- politicians, police, teachers, parents, companies- and that's that- also religion, a system like anyother, oppression. In this system, we are either oppressors or oppressed. Which one will I be? High status or low status clown? Will I contribute to pollute this world, to carry on the system of social inequality, to overuse our natural resources?

And on the other end, why am I not happy with the simple life, no car, no big job, no big life, veggie food, organic products, no corporation?
Why do I want more, and more, and more? And why do I Know that the river doesn't flow where I want it to go, its power is much stronger then me, and there's nothing I can do to change it? Ultimately why do I want rather then accept what there is?

It has a life of its own.

I sit on the Ganga and hold a one year old baby. She is so tiny makes me want to cry. She is malnutrioned and I am afraid she will dye in my hands so bad she looks, the mother tells me she has two girls !!!two girls, her husband left her cause she is no good, giving her two girls!!!
I say girls is good, women power, but she doesn't know what I am talking about, of course,so she carries on explaining that she lives on the street, collects plastic and sells it, she makes 5 cents a day, and she sleeps on the street.

The baby has her eyes closed totally infected, she is really poorly, and I can't hold the sights of it, so I grab her and take her to the hospital. We go two hours driving and on the rickshaw I clean her little eyes with a tissue and mineral water, and slowly she opens her eyes and she looks at me, and I can see her face, desperate, closer to death. The baby looks sad, and makes me want to cry, and she's burning in fever. BECAUSE she is a girl!!!

The mother tells me she was married at 16. The mother doesn't know that she needs to keep her baby on the shadow, she needs to clean and wash her baby, keep it cool and rested, feed her. She doesn't know anything because she is a baby herself, so I find a translator, a guy who works in a bookshop and tell her how to care for her baby.

We arrive to the hospital and wait for half an hour, the surroundings are really dirty, and then a nurse comes and says doctors are unavailable, what do we need? Unhappy with the situation I take them again by rickshaw to a private clinic and we go and see a doctor from Lucknow (a big city) who speaks english.

He seems a good doctor and he says she has a virus infection. He gives her some antibiotics (one of the biggest pollutters on earth), vitamins and other stuff, and I pay the bill- 500 rupies. Thats about 6 pounds.
I get paid in London the double of that per hour, but this woman could never ever afford this bill in a life of savings, so I think I've done something good, but I feel terrible, this world is terrible,and fucked,and we can't provide for all this people....and still care for our environment.!!!

Before sending them back to the littered streets I bought the little girl two tiny cotton dresses because she was wearing a very dirty heavy and hot winter suit, and as I said in my mails before it's now more then 35 degrees, daily.

So, I comeback to the hotel and feel disgusted for wanting MORE then I have, cause I do. I dream about a rich life, not a simple life. And this is the truth, this is the chit I am!

So, am I closer to mother teresa, the dalai lama, or the manhattan penthouse bitch I always dreamt about? Will I end up in lovely LA in front of a mac pc or in Tibet in front of corrupted tibetan monks? Cause you know REALLY- it's the SAME!!!
Will I find a in between? Can you stop oppression? Can you unite the women of this world and create a new world? When will women understand they are responsible for the future, and will stop fear, and will gain control?

Who is out there?

I cross the Ganga in Rishikesh, over a long high shaky bridge in between the mountains, and realize the mechanism of my perception of the world around me. I realize I have not yet crossed the bridge but yet I already Know what is in the other side, and this knowing is boring, mechanic, unrevealing, source of sadness.

So, I stop in the bridge, look down at the strong currents of the river and decide conciously to choose NOT KNOWING. So, I don't know what comes after, what will appear in the other side, I do not Know (and that's a grounding center stage, rather then a pshycological denial of mind, please understand its difference) and so I become vulnerable, and creative, and immediately my all reality becomes totally different. Not Knowing allows the world to reveal itself as new, then there is the space for life to happen, to surprise me, and anything in that present moment of NOT KNOWING is possible.

Everything is possible, I mean not in the sense of a yupie reflection of wow everything is possible, and life is so mysterious and magical,no, but on the moment I stop wanting to understand or act upon my knowledge, my patterns of identification, my concepts and values, then it's all blank, or black, neutral, and virgin, an empty field where I can act upon,open, consciously and vulnerably.

So, I allow myself to be insecure, to try not to think about the future, to just rest in this challenging risky area of insecurity, the bridge shaking under my feet my legs trembling, heart bumping.
And the I met a 20 years old rajastani boy, which indian name I don't recall, but he said his name meant mountain holder, in english. I am not surprised, indians have names that when translated into english are absolutely adorable, so I smile without being able ever to repeat its original name, I tell him: - nice to meet you mountain holder.
We talk for a bit, and he is surprised with this concept of enjoying insecurity to allow life to happen by itself, this idea of not knowing, not owning life. He doesn't really understand he says: - but insecurity, how is that good.? Nahhji. Insecurity is bad, is stress, you feel tense. You learn how to enjoy the little things you have. You have little. But you feel happy with simple things, bed, food, family. You know all people are family...

- Sure- I say- but that is not my point. I don't enjoy those little things, stop thinking about the food you need, the bed you will rest, your basic survival, stop planning how to provide for your basic needs and allow yourself to not want even those little things, not worry, not need to be safe.

He understands me now. His behaviour changes. His cultural believes are shaken, just like mine. We arrive to the end of the bridge and he says to me :- Haanji you are right. I can dye tomorrow...

We finally crossed the bridge, and we go swimming in the Ganga.

It's my very first time diving in the most Holy river of India, Mother Ganga, and I have no clue what to expect from the Crazy River, like I call it.
Mountain Holder leaves and I stay with Jacqui looking at the strong currents gainning courage to get in. I change and deep both feet in, but, wow, the water is absolutely freezing. Wow, the river is ice and outside is boiling bloody 42 degrees, how can this be? Life is so full of revealing paradoxes, I smile, and quickly and I dare say bravely jump in, totally submersed on the holy purest river, the healer of all maladies, the turning point of your karma, sweet as a polished gem.

The water is beautiful, and I have never experienced such waters. It's so clean and pure, and cold I can drink from it. It feels great and as indian tradition requires (not that I ever was a traditional chick but sometimes I got my own flicks) I remain inside as long as I can. It's a resistence exercise now, it's kind of painfull, and why am I doing it, I am not even a believer, but I do, I stay there, in pain, and you know what? I enjoyed it so much I'll return tomorrow. Yes, I enjoy the pain, I felt so strong after a few dives, full of energy I went back to my hotel walking ( a one hour climb over the mountain , mind you 42 degrees!!! hot). But I want to go, and climb, I feel rejuvenated, and happy!

What a wonderfull saturday!
-What a great river- I say to an american woman I just met who has lived in the Shivananda ashram, in India for most of her life.
- Yeah, cleans your karma.- she says.
- Sorry, the waters are good but I do not believe in Karma sister.- I tell her.
- Well, what you give is what you take. That's Dharma, didi, you get that for sure. We are all One. One big consciouness that has always been there, will always be. A Whole evolving, becoming, each day more conscious of itself.
- Right. I agree- I tell her, with redemption- I just don't like this usual idea of karma as a coming back, same soul contained in different container. Will you be able to buy souls in different containers in a future Hyper Market? See what I mean? I was a dog, once yet a frog, now I am a Prince, I don't swallow that mate, thank you.
- Forget about the hierarchy of karma. No, that's not the way. Westerns like to think they were kings in past lifes, indians like to think they won't return to this hard life, but for me, we were always here, we will always be, and we have multiple manifestations, but we are ultimately the same.
- Fair point- I reckoned.

The sun sets behind the mountains and I take a shower. I take a long deep breath of this Himalayans air, and I stop thinking about all of it...And a yellow parrot crosses the sky ahead of me. Faraway there's a flute as someone is practicing. I listen. The water hits the rocks down the valley, and I remain still and quiet, enjoying the tension mountain holder was talking about, that comes from not knowing. And I feel purely alive and conscious that centered tension, that conflict, that pure DRAMA, that paradox, antagonic forces, right deep down in my center rather then in a confused mind is what keeps us alive. Is pure energy, what keeps you going.

The UNKNOWN.

The most amazing thing has been happening for the last two weeks! We arrived to this hotel, near McLeodganj, the Little Tibet of India, on the way to the high peaks of Chamba and Dalhouise. It was really late when we arrived and everybody was so tired we just took the first room that was presented to us on a road hotel, near town. We are not in town properly and not in the hills either, the hotel is located in between towns and the guests are all passers-by, drivers, and tourists on a journey break on their way to Delhi, Manali, Kullu, Ladakh.

It is a place for stopping, resting, filling up with good food, taking a hot shower and going on to your final destination. It's well located in the centre of all routes, it suits every traveller coming from north or south, linking both on a well deserved road break. Now, as any road hotel in any country , there is nothing special about or around it, there's just the building erected on the roads, born after curve after curve of emptiness, mountains and pine trees. What do you know?

We stayed here!!!

Yes, we dismissed our driver and we're bloody staying here more then we ever stayed in any hotel in India, and more then any other of their guests ever stayed !!! Everyone is really surprised about the duration or reasons of our stay. As a matter of fact even we are!
But that's travelling! If you follow your heart you will end up doing things you could never had planed and things you don't even know why you do!

Now, it does feel a bit strange that we stayed here, we first felt confused and guilty about not going accord to our planns, up the hills to one of the touristic hill resorts of the Hymalaias (the most touristic state of India, forget GOA, this is REALLY touristic!!!) Is this even India?
We do wonder about Manali, Dalhouise, Leh, Kullu, Kasa- all the destinations on the lOnely Planet, on The Routard, on every single guide, book or map of north India- What is there, how beautiful it must be, just 200km around the corner, let's just take one of the routes, no matter which, and go!
Reality is, none of those places are really calling us, and we chose to stay here a few days till deciding where to, and ended up caught in the nets of a road hotel!

Shiva, the son of the hotel owner, is very happy about us staying here. He is a young guy and runs the place amazingly well. He has a large face, strong bones, he is tall and offers a constant smile not only to us but to everybody else. In the first two days he remained quiet and humble like most indian men do, serving us dinner with a grateful and profound smile and asking if we needed him to arrange us a car to take us somewhere, where would we be going?
We told him we didn't know where to go, so we would stay, if he didn't mind, and surprised, he looked down deep into our eyes, and filled himself with admiration, owe, gratitude, and true happiness. He was almost into tears when he said "you are most welcome madames", and he was bonding there and then with both of us. A bond, that is so indian, so strong and unquestionable, so protective and real it never leaves you, your heart gets grounded, your soul expanded! He felt kind of honoured we were staying here, in his nowhere hotel.
He touched his chest with his hand, and looked down to my feet, a gesture of respect, most common in India, and he offered us two washed bath towels!

In the morning after, Guji, one of the restaurant waiters, a short tibetan guy, so humble he will never look you straight in the eyes, offered himself to show us a trek to a lake, 10kms away. We accepted happily, because what else are you gonna do on a road hotel, and so he showed us the beginning of the forest path, and then returned to the hotel, saying: "just keep always your right! Never turn left, always right and lake you'll see! Thank you madame ji, thank you..." He put his hands together in prayer position and kept stepping back, doing many bows on his way, never turning his back on us. I tried to thank HIM, after all he showed us the way, but he kept saying "thank you, thank you" and kept bowing so, I quit and just carried on, to put an end to the awkward moment.
Very well ! Always keep right ! That sounds easy, so into the forest we went and wow! how amazing it is to be deep in the forest, you walk silently and all around you there are birds, and other animals we can't see, but we feel are there, every step brings life into you. Of course we saw monkeys,and very beautiful distinct bird species but I'm sure there was much more outthere. The pathway took us to amazing viewpoints where we could see the mountains all around us, imposing and divine, covered in snow, embroided on a blue sky.

In the forest there was always a little hindu temple here and there, and buddhist tibetan coloured flags attached to the trees. It gave a sense of sacred and divine into our way, it conforted us to see a sign of humanity in such a long deserted pathway! We walked for about five hours! Of course, it wasn't 10km away, it never is, they don't even understand measures but we knew it would be fine, because if they sent us here, they themselves would make sure we would return. Why?
Because this is India, the country of the heart, and here people take care of each other. And they liked us, we were their long term guests and when you become a long term guest you become family, "sista", it's what they call me, "didi" (auntie) they call Jacqui- and when you're family in India, you have the highest status because that is the most important and precious thing in their culture- family!

So, we carried on the walk, submersed by the magical paths, the stunning views, the powerful sounds, the subtle smells and finally we did arrive to a dreamlike lake! A large dark lake surrounded by mountains, just like a poster picture, such as the many hanging on indian kitchens, with golden subtitles or titles on them saying" accept what god gives you in the path", a classical kitch sweet _expression.

On our way back, we met Arvind, a musician, sitar player from Varanasi. He talked with us for a while in his private english school accent, explainning a quicker way to return and informed us he was doing a concert that night, down in Dharamsala. So, after a shower, we headed there and went to the concert. It was beautiful!
On the break, Arvind saw us and very excited to meet his audience came to us:" You like it?"' -yes, is gre...- I started saying, but he was so excited, he quickly interrupted me :" it's great concert, haanji?"- he said - "I'm feeling the great feelings. My dream, Ana, since child is to live on stage. You understand? Really, on stage, all life, there"- he said, pointing at the stage, his eyes on fire, the whole body gesticulating full of energy, pleasure and excitment.
"I do understand", I mumbled just to be interrupted suddenly again, his voice reduced to a low tone, and whispering he goes:" You know, I go crazy when I'm there, completely crazy! It's not me anymore, something happens!!!"... his eyes twisted in a kind of mysterious way and he ran back to his stage and picked up the sitar.

Silence returned to the room and the sound of classical indian music filled the space. I don't know if any of you know classical indian music, but the ones who have ever been in a concert, know how our body gives up, in that special indian surrender, gets into a trance mode, and travels through inter dimensional routes while listening to the exquisite, calming and unique sounds of tabla, sitar and chanting.
You might be thinking I smoked some special substance before getting there, but that's because you don't know since I came to India I completelly fully and proudly stopped smoking. Everything. I don't touch and don't think will ever be able to touch any sort of drugs ever again. And that's because I found out you Really don't need them to have a good time.

So, there I was all high on classical music, when a burst of clapping brought me back to reality. The concert was finished, and I was so seduced by it, I went to ask Arvind to teach me how to sing as lovely as he did, and that's when we booked singing indian classical music classes, that I've been daily attending.

On on our way to his house in the other day, we found out there's an ayurvedic centre just next to him and we went for a full body cleaning massage. We loved it so much we registered for a full body cleaning treatment and now we have daily oil massage, a special diet, yoga every morning at 6am , and a special oil up our asses for "full cleaning madames jis, you will have the great feelings, all chackras opening, all life changing, all bodies new bodies, most and best transformation...very good jis very good!!!" according to our doctor!!!
The first days of treatment were filled with farting business but now we are really feeling the effects, we feel open, light, great and healthy so we actually decided to undertake an ayurvedic month course. " Sure, I teach you" said the doctor, " of course, you learning ayurveda you changing your life. New life coming madames. Drink this." And he gave us a very discusting drink to our hands.
Next day, the doctor showed us his wifes arrangements in his house so that they could provide us a room for us to take while doing our course, which completely surprised us. So we will be fully commited from June onwards, learning and living with an ayurvedic family in a really indian traditional way (and bed !!!!- hard mat on the floor!!!)

We returned to our road hotel and met up with other travellers on their way to their full on destinations. "where are you two off to?" , they say eating their banana pancakes..."nowhere", we say smiling, our faces filled with an inexplicable excitment.
"what do you mean nowhere?'
"we're staying here."
"HERE????"
"yes, here."
They look at us with a curious face, and either think us stupid or crazy, or that we're probably lieing for an even more stupid reason.

The waiter comes and brings our tea, and wincks his eye to us. A Bollywood hit starts shouting at the speakers and we smile and listen to all the tourists trying to enlighten our trip, advising us to go here and there, and do this, that and the other.
We look at Shiva and Guji's humble faces and we know we will be staying here, we know this is right for us, to remain here, meet these people and collect their stories, memories and short frames of touristic attractions we don't aim to meet anymore.

Our travel came to a transformation point. Some would say it is now finished.
This is the last place before getting back to Delhi airport to catch our flight back to London; but really is it finished?

Because we feel it just really started. Right here: in the most unplanned, uncovered, illicit place in India- a road hotel lost somewhere in the mountains, on a no name land- facing but not yet reaching the Hymalaias!

And why do we stay?
Is it for the singing or ayurvedic courses? Is it because we like our hosts? Is it because we're tired of travelling and this is it, we reached our limit?
No, I don't think any of these reasons are right.

We are here because our heart feels this magnetism for this moment here and now.
We are here, in between, to feel the passers by, the calmness of staying in a place where everybody else is moving, where everything changes daily, a place of leaving.

We are here, because we could only stay somewhere you're not supposed to stay. Somewhere where detachement and impermanence are masters, where roads meet, and cars just pass.

Where nothing remains, except memory. And this is indeed, where we came to finish our trip...to get use to the idea of leaving, to cry and hide the melancholic strong pain growing daily in our hearts because we will miss so much our dear INDIAJI !!!!!!

We left Amritsar, on the Pakistan border in the very early morning and embarked on the 6am Express train to Delhi (12 hours). The rickshaw took us from the hotel to the train station through the empty steamy streets and we could still hear the sikh punjabi prayers from the Golden Temple clutching the airs with devotion and sorrow. The skies felt dark and heavy above the high cutting peaks of the moghul mosques covered with black and white pigeons.
We crossed the Punjabi State, by train, and the sights changed as much as the weather. We left the forested cool air of the Hymalaia valley and its pixies, and came down to the hot pre-monsoon planes of Andra Pradesh.
After six months, and a complete all around tour of India we returned to our starting point, the subcontinent capital city: Delhi- the city of Djinns (spirits).

Like any return journey the sense of how cyclical is life also returned to me and with it the clear understanding of how much change occurs in such short, but intense, period of time.Not only did my perception of this amazing country was completely altered as my perception of myself was fully charged. It's with a sense of achievement that I declare this trip to have been the most wonderful I've ever done, and with the same assertiveness, I know it won't be my last time in Hindu/Muslim/Sikh/Buddha/Jain "stan"(land). My love for the sacred, ritual and spiritual enlarged as much as my absolute passion for curry, cicleshaws, bucket showers, indian toilets and decaying houses.

This country does not fit in any picture and still it's full of amazing ones: coloured or black and white, you choose. (I got some pretty amazing ones for those who want to share).
Perhaps in those pictures we can sense how old is this civilization and how historic is every step on it but its true beauty can't be described in any words and still this is a truly inspiring country for writing, and I've read here some of the best novels ever.

I recall more easily life in the west now, because I know I'm going back soon, and one by one, immages of London and Portugal return to my mind. It's as strange as remembering your body when you were a child and can seem as traumatic as birth recalls. It's a far faraway reality to me now, and the memory of it arrives to me in shaken, mistified,and most surely unrealistic projections.
Europe, which i now consider home, became like an old dream, and only in the last week I started thinking about it properly. No, I didn't miss it. I missed it in the sense of, oh, yeah let's go to the park, let's get a panini around the corner, let's watch some comedy on BBC, but that's about it, I'm afraid.
What does that mean?I'm not very sure.
It either reflects how empty was my life in London or how fully has been my life in India. Or how happy it's life without work!!!

The way I perceive my past is surely altered: home is an abstract concept to me, best represented by codfish and expresso; my friends (yes, you) feel so distant to me it's like we don't even know each other anymore, kind of like a jigsaw where both the player and the game are incomplete; and my family is like a tree, so high and hard to climb, I choose to remain in its shadow.
That's pretty much what I perceive about my outer reality. As a matter of fact that reality seems so vain and scattered, it's most probably an inexistent illusion.
Rather then that, it is now the inner reality that seems more clear, profound and solid to me know: the reality of dreams, emotions, will, mind, sensations.

Most of all I'm happy that I truly accomplished my aims in India. Not only I fully discovered this gem of a country, I feel myself blossoming with new skills and knowledge. I can now practice yoga on my own, sing and understand classical indian music, give a professional ayurvedic massage (just book it), cook a healthy meal, speak hindi tora tora, and even do a headstand!!!!!
It is with this small achievements that a new and confident self comes into manifestation.

With India, came the awareness of body and mind, the conscious of my emotional armour, the understanding of society, its rituals and religions.
In India I have lost my fear to meditate, pray and to believe; the fear to be positive and take a stand, even if with my head (!!!), the fear to sing and express myself freely, the fear to be a woman and succeed!!!

I would like to thank all the ones who helped me on this journey by reading my mails and giving their support- to all those friends who are spread all over this world a huge hug full of grateful love.
A big thanks to Beale Place who kept my stuff all the time so I could be here, specially Alison. Thank you to Arvind, my music teacher and to Swarga Yoga Center down in Kerala, thanks to Doctor Sybi who taught me that health is wealth and to all the people of India for making my trip so amazing, challenging and tasty.

Finally thank you so much to Jacqui for being there ALWAYS.