I caught a ride today in a tuk tuk (auto-rickshaw) with the music blaring - it was the most beautiful chanting and I couldn't help but smile and hope he didn't turn it down, on account of the white girl in back. As he caught my smile in the mirror, he explained, "Sai Baba". I haven't studied the gurus, and I can't tell you what the philosophy is of this one, but I do recognize the name. He's well known, with a large, devoted, following and many temples.
As we drove along, both of us tapping to the music, the driver occasionally head-bobbling in time, I found myself getting choked-up, my heart overflowing with this sense of humble devotion, amidst the chaos of traffic. While I can't, from that brief encounter, assume to really know anything about the man that was taking me home from the market, it was clear by the pride on his face as he announced "Sai Baba" that his guru is important to him, the music is deeply moving, and sharing it is a blessing and an honour.
Can you imagine, in Canada, listening to Christian hymns in the back of your taxi cab? It would be completely out-of-place . . . and in our culture, perhaps even inappropriate. But here in India the sacred and the profane go hand in hand, un-apologetically, unabashedly.
My sense of this driver, as he navigated impossible turns and traffic snarls, was of someone content and grounded. (But what do I know?) And he's not the only one I've had that sense with. This is a huge, chaotic, unruly, stinky, CRAZY city . . . that I see through the eyes of a Canadian white girl. But sometimes, like today, I am privileged to see it, just a little, through someone else's heart. I catch glimpses of what life might be like for someone who just lives and works here, for whom this is truly home.
And I am reminded that comparisons truly have no place here. That what I know about how life works, from my home in Canada, has very little value here. That the only way to be here is to BE HERE.
Blessed be.
As we drove along, both of us tapping to the music, the driver occasionally head-bobbling in time, I found myself getting choked-up, my heart overflowing with this sense of humble devotion, amidst the chaos of traffic. While I can't, from that brief encounter, assume to really know anything about the man that was taking me home from the market, it was clear by the pride on his face as he announced "Sai Baba" that his guru is important to him, the music is deeply moving, and sharing it is a blessing and an honour.
Can you imagine, in Canada, listening to Christian hymns in the back of your taxi cab? It would be completely out-of-place . . . and in our culture, perhaps even inappropriate. But here in India the sacred and the profane go hand in hand, un-apologetically, unabashedly.
My sense of this driver, as he navigated impossible turns and traffic snarls, was of someone content and grounded. (But what do I know?) And he's not the only one I've had that sense with. This is a huge, chaotic, unruly, stinky, CRAZY city . . . that I see through the eyes of a Canadian white girl. But sometimes, like today, I am privileged to see it, just a little, through someone else's heart. I catch glimpses of what life might be like for someone who just lives and works here, for whom this is truly home.
And I am reminded that comparisons truly have no place here. That what I know about how life works, from my home in Canada, has very little value here. That the only way to be here is to BE HERE.
Blessed be.
Nice to read your updates Shosh. We miss you here. Take care of yourself girl, we look forward to all your photos and stories when you return.
ReplyDeleteOh, and...Gung Hay Fat Choy, "Best wishes and Congratulations. Have a prosperous and good year."
Love, Renée
love it...thanks for sharing such a beautiful experience. hugs
ReplyDeleteYou must have seen that most of the auto-rickshaws and public buses have mini shrines at front next to the drivers, complete with photos of their gurus (with garlands framing the faces), incense burning, etc. I've been on packed public city buses in Delhi where the driver is playing devotional songs through the speakers and not a soul appears offended. Like you, I thoroughly enjoyed the music knowing such-like things wouldn't fly in the west.
ReplyDeleteIn any case, India is a very tolerant land. My cousin and I were driving in Delhi behind a city bus that had come to a stop and unexpectedly had to back up and ended up hitting the front of my cousin's car, smashing the headlight and it also did a bit of damage to the body. My cousin went to speak to the driver, and never losing his composure he emerged victorious a few minutes later clutching a couple hundred rupees ($5 to $10). Had this happened in Canada or USA, it would have ended up being a much larger and messier affair with insurance and police possibly being notified. At the time, I looked at my cousin thinking how could he possibly be happy with so little compensation, but he seemed satisfied so who was I to judge.
ps. I went on a writing spree and left you a whole whack of comments recently on your other blog postings (I was up quite late and refused to sleep until I'd read your entire blog). I don't know if you've seen any or all of these yet but I'd love to read your thoughts on them. :-)