GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRH... BIS

January the 11th 

We wake up with one fix idea : to see the Gange and the Yamuna meeting point, where Gandhis ashes were spread, and to say goodbye to the Gange we have followed since we have started our journey. On the map, it looks very close, maybe 2 – 2.5 km. So we discuss the price with the rickshaws according to this. We find surprisingly fast, and go… but on the way, after a long ride through the wakening up streets, we stop a first time. We think we are at the ghât, and the rickshaw driver, who seems extremely helpful, guides us until the river. Communication is a bit difficult, as he speaks only Hindi and we unfortunately have an dramatically  limited amount of vocabulary. The rickshaw has actually taken us to a boat-taxi stand, where the ride to Sangat is 500 ruppies, tourist price. First disillusion. We go back on the rickshaw, who is much less friendly now, for he missed a backshish and has to drive us to the agreed point, which is still far away. And he drives us through a slum, where we see children playing cricket on a pile of trash. The images of slumdog millionaire are coming straight to our minds. We cannot say there was any pathos coming out from people, they simply live there, life going its way. Is it because Indians accept their condition as a fate, or because they have grown in this condition ? We don’t know, but feel very uncomfortable as we go by, carried by one of them (Rickshaws are among the poorest group in  India). We are absolutely out of place.

Cricket is the national sport, played  by everyone

Next we go  through a cantonment, that contrasts with the slum. There is almost no one around, only few men with shooting gun. We are locked between a wall on the right and the river on the left. Our only fear now is that our man drops us there if we don’t pay more, as he talks to us regularly in Hindi about something we still don’t know about. We are out along the river, no clue how far, how close…

But we reach Sansawati ghât, willing to walk along the fort and the Yamuna river to reach the Sangat. But many men have different ideas for us. For the first time we are surrounded by men that are very manly : tall, aggressive, powerful. It is not easy to turn them down. They affirm that the path we want to take along the river doesn’t exist and that we have to take one of their boat for 500 ruppies! We still believe in the map of the Lonely Planet – though we have a doubt, as the guide book has shown itself too old – and go. We  reach the path, and get into a peaceful landscape, idyllic and quiet. And even though the surroundings should allow us to breathe openly, the fear that something could happen (a man is following us quite a while) takes away all tranquillity. We are restless in the middle of quiet. We were looking forward to a place without crowds, and find ourselves hoping for a crowd, right here, right now. When the first silhouettes appear, bathing in the Yamuna, we feel a deep relief. Funny