Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I got in a bit farther as I asked Dilip, “You do this every day?”
He nodded as I pressed forward, “And you don't get sick?”
Dilip shook his head as I asked one more question, “Do you drink the water?”
“Yes,” he replied and then he took a drink. Okay, I hate to remind you of this fact, but
again, I had just seen numerous dead carcasses float past me. A dog. Two cows. A few
unidentified objects.
“Okay,” I replied, stepping deeper into the water. “Well, that's not going to happen with
me.”
Dilip laughed again, “This is probably safer for you.”
I looked around. Not far from us, there was a wedding taking place on a boat. The sun
was beginning to settle beneath the famous river as Dilip waded deeper into the water. I
looked around, and for a moment, it didn't even feel as though I was on planet Earth. In-
stead, I was in one of the many stories I had read when I was young.
Because the one thing I do remember from school are the tales of the Greek gods. Maybe
it had to do with my own heritage, but as Dilip and I stood in the Ganges, I thought back
to all the heroes who had traveled across the river in Charon's boat—Heracles, Orpheus,
Dionysus, and of course, Odysseus. They all were returned to the land of the living renewed
and wiser for the journey. If they could do it, why couldn't I?
I told Dilip as we bathed in the river, “I started my journey in Los Angeles at the Hol-
lywood sign—the place where capitalism thrives—and here I am in the Ganges, the holiest
place for Hindus, with you, someone I have just met.”
Dilip stood up and smiled, “Yes because God does good things.”
He offered to give me a blessing in the river, speaking the prayer in Hindi and asking me
to repeat it. We held hands as we prayed—two men from different sides of the world, with
entirely different life experiences, standing together in the Ganges, cleansing our souls.
Masks officially dropped.
After we got out of the river, Dilip asked if I wanted to stay with him and his family in
their house for the night. We walked back to where he lived with his wife, Dharmin, and
their two wonderful sons, Amrit, who was five, and the youngest, Ashish, who was two.
As we ate dinner, Dilip explained that Amrit had been going to school but that they had
had to take him out, as they could no longer afford it.
“The school is too much money,” Dilip explained. “And sometimes, I do not get enough
passengers.”
