Tanushree & Karan were next up in the Bird Babysitting Club rotation, so after class we hooked up with their friend Cell who graciously offered to spend the day as chauffeur. Sightseeing & shopping [OF COURSE] were on the docket for the afternoon.
Janpath was revisited as all the shops were open this time & in full swing. I had a field day there, snapping up a king-sized bed cover with exquisite embroidery in bold gold tones, replete with covers for 4 pillows—a steal at $48US! I also purchased a Tibetan Singing Bowl, which I’ve been wanting for a few years. Man, we were in that shop for what seemed like hours playing the many bowls that were piled up on the floor, seemingly forgotten. I played almost all of them, searching for just the right tone, something that ‘sung’ to me. Reportedly used from the time of Buddha Shakyamuni [560-489 BC] they are used in meditation & ceremonial practices, the tones extremely calming. Using a mallet, you hold the bowl in the left hand & in a clockwise direction, circle the rim with a stirring motion. I’m telling you, one can be hypnotized from that action alone! I’ve also read that it’s used in stress reduction, Reiki, chakra balancing, World music, & healing—honestly, I have tried my hand with it & have had some pretty amazing results with body aches & headaches!!
Made of a 12 metal alloy that consists of silver, nickel, copper, zinc, antimony, tin, lead, cobalt, bismuth, arsenic, cadmium & iron, it is now a lost art & it’s reported this quality can no longer be produced today. So I feel pretty lucky to have mine & Karan is to thank for that.
I had gone through at least 8 bowls, hearing the tones & testing the feel & vibration in my hand. My 2 buddies patiently stood by—Cell had wisely disappeared for a rendezvous with his girlfriend & missed out on the ceremonies. Anywho, though I had FINALLY narrowed down the candidates to 2, I was still in the ‘ehhhh I dunno phase’ but since I had my pals standing in the same doggone spot for an eternity, I thought I needed to get on with it since we had other stops to make. So as I was about to say ‘ok here’s my decision,’ Karan was like ‘try this one’ & it was THE ONE [insert the sound of singing cherubs here, AHHHHHHHH!]. Bee-u-tee-ful work graces this bowl & the song truly matches my spirit with a warm deep resonant sound beneath a high pitch, colored with other tones in between. Oooooohhhh-we! So it was a fruitful shopping stint [gotta have ‘em gotta have ‘em] with the purchase of some jewelry, [that & bags are my weakness. Oh & shoes!] but the real adventure, THE REAL adventure was on the jaunt to the Red Fort. Whoa.
Riding the spankin’ clean Metro for the first time, I was tickled by the ‘crowd control patrol,’ cops that make the riders form perfectly straight lines on either side of the train doors so the passengers can exit first—WHAT A CONCEPT! They blow their whistle at the offenders to get them back in line. What a joke & stark contrast to the lawlessness of the roads when I’ve been in a car going one way in two-way traffic only to see a car from the other direction deciding to pass the one in front of him by DRIVING OVER THE YELLOW LINE RIGHT IN FRONT OF US, MEANING HE’S HEADING STRAIGHT FOR US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UN-REE-EL!
OK, Bird Rant over for the short time being. Oh, maybe not. Oh yeah, to get on a train you have to go through metal detectors, one for men with a male security officer; one for ladies. Then you take a couple steps over to the officer’s table where your bag is thoroughly searched; sometimes you’re patted down. If there is something in your bag they are unfamiliar with like a very, VERY personal item such as a tampon, of course they hold up for all the world to see, & you have to stand there as they look at it quizzically, like a puppy when it first discovers it’s image in the mirror. IIIIIIIIIIII---------EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE------YAH! This is when the reality hits; India is constantly in a terrorist state mode with a rash of bombings & fatalities. During my time there, the terrorists struck in a few cities & Delhi was on high alert since they were the next target. There have been bombings there since I’ve left, with injuries as well as fatalities & it hit home that I am indeed fortunate to live in a place with certain freedoms that I have truly taken for granted. It is a real DRAG to be subject to the constant searches but the Indians seem to take it in stride as a part of life there.
After a short train ride, we emerge in Old Delhi, & I MEAN it is old! Like steppin’ back into another world! People EVERYWHERE, many carrying very heavy loads or pulling stuff. Old stalls lining the streets on either side, selling old old Old OLD stuff. A lot of computer parts, I mean who USES this stuff?! Oh yeah, the internet café owner runnin’ Windows free-kin’ 98!
Into this world I enter courtesy of a rickshaw ride. Not the 3 wheel auto rickshaw monstrosity that looks like a buggy & feels like it should only be at an amusement park, but the one with man power, literally. There were 4 of us—Cell is pretty tall & I’m not the most svelte chick a dee in the world & our driver couldn’t have been younger than sixty but he pulled us like we were a few heavy bags!! Now, they didn’t warn me we were taking this mode of transport—probably smart on their part ‘cause I certainly would’ve balked fo’ sho & was none too pleased to have a grand seat in the front.