Sometimes it is like this, Sometimes it is like that

This morning, while walking on the highway, I saw trees on both sides of the road forming a canopy above us. My mind said, " Oh! I don't need trees now. This patch should have come in the afternoon when the temperature is at its peak. 

Likewise, there are days when we are offered meals more than once, while on some days we would just have a packet of biscuits. It was interesting how, during our afternoon breaks, we would be invited by extremely warm host families who would most often ask us to stay for the day. We can't accept the request; evenings are difficult for us to find a secure, safe space to stay the night. I hear my tired mind say, where do these warm hosts vanish after sunset? 

This mindset was taking me away from the present moment and from embracing the gifts I had in the now. 

And it was later that I realized that this pilgrimage was all about being in the present. As soon as I found comfort or attachment with a person, place, or thing, it was time to move on. Attachment to the past was bringing suffering for the future.  

So the next time when the cloud came in front of the Sun to give us a little shade, or a child came running giving us a smile, or we took a little longer route, we remembered Kanti dada and with gratitude started singing- 

"Game game game life is a game. 

We came crying, crying 

We shall go laughing 

Sometimes it is like this, sometimes it is like that 

Game game game life is a .game."

Share some change :)

We hear a voice calling us from the other side of the road, and when we pause, we see this old grandfather waving his hand. We crossed the road and greeted him. Narmade har!!

He started searching for something in his pocket. We asked him what he was looking for. He replied by asking us whether we had three-rupee coins. We checked our pockets and found a ten-rupee note, which we gave him. He returned the note and kept checking all his pockets. In the meantime, Swara dropped a fifty-rupee note into his upper pocket, not sure if it was to tag him or so he could give it to us.  

He kept looking for about five minutes. Swara asked him to check his upper pocket; that’s when the neighbor said he couldn’t listen because of old age. Finally, he nods, saying he can’t find it. He wanted to give us some money because we were pilgrims.

We tell him to just bless us, and he smiles and shares his blessings. In a local dialect, he shared that he has also done the pilgrimage. When I showed him his picture on my phone,e he laughed out loud and waved us goodbye. 

We remembered our grandfather, who would give us not more than five rupees during Diwali. Jokingly, I told Swara that even if he had found the fifty rupee note, he would have asked for forty-eight rupees change:) 

Endless Love of Sakhi's

A few days ago, we met these extraordinary grannies in a village. After crossing a little stream, trekking up a rocky hill, and walking through a few farms, we reached Bel Gau. As we were walking through the village, we found a little space (otlo) to sit. We sat there for some rest, water,r and snacks.

There were friendly nods and greetings with people passing by. We shared snacks with the kids. They suggested that we can go to the nearby temple sometime to have food served. There wasn't any laziness or resistance, but we didn't get up. We kept sitting. In the middle of all this,s a granny invited us to her home for a cup of black tea. And both of us just started walking with her. She was coughing badly as she was leading the way.

She said I will call my friends to meet you. All of us did parikrama a few years back, and they will be very happy to meet you. One by one, the grannies started coming, and they called each other "Sakhi," which means "friend." There was joy and deep respect for each other, which was so subtle.

At one point, while we were sharing, I looked at one of them who was listening with her complete presence. I could feel that. The stillness and her presence made me feel so alive and quiet,t as if I were in a forest or in front of a mountain. We rested there for some time, and when I woke up, I felt I was in the company of these extraordinary angels.

One of the grannies sat with us for some time, then asked if she could go to her farm for a while. She promised she would come back soon. We hugged her and waved goodbye. Later in the afternoon, she brought us fresh carrots from her farm :)

Some of the distinct qualities they shared were respect for each other, deep listening, and sharing the good things they encountered. All of them were farmers, which meant hard work each day, year-round.

In just a few hours, we got a glimpse of their way of life, the quality of their presence, and the universal love of a mother. A gang of eight women came with us for half a kilometer just to say goodbye. When we were walking with them, we could sense courage, strength, and oneness beaming from each soul. We kept telling them to return, but as a few of them were not wearing their chappals (shoes), they continued walking. While we hugged and asked for blessings, they kept holding back their tears and shared words and blessings, giving us courage and strength for our journey ahead. It was an immense gift to receive these subtle gifts in multiple forms.

Nishkam Seva (Selfless Service)

As we got closer to Amarkanthak, a bunch of us got an invitation to black tea. It was an unexpected yet pleasant invitation, as the man who was serving us tea had his shelter almost in the middle of a forest, with hardly any people living around.

He asked us to follow the orange signboards as we walked further into the forest. He showed us a sample signboard we were meant to follow. We got curious as we had seen these boards in some of the remotest places.

We had all these questions -Was it a group of people? Or the nearby villagers? Who puts up these little markers?

We asked him if he knew who made them. He said that for eight months, I serve all the pilgrims here with tea, food, and shelter, and in the other four months, when they are not walking due to the rains, I paint these boards, take some nails, select an area, cycle, and put them up. He has been doing this for 12 years. What an invisible act of kindness!!! We bowed to him to share our gratitude and even shared how every time we would see the board, part of us said thank you, and part of us thought that whoever had done this must be crazy:) It was such a joyous moment for us to finally meet one of the faces of the one who has put so much effort just so that thousands of pilgrims walking do not lose their way. He has placed signboards in the forests, hills, near river beds, and on a few roads.

Likewise, we spotted this earthen pot filled with water under a shady tree. The water must quench the thirst of so many like us. When I looked around, there were only farms, which meant someone had gone to great lengths to bring water from a distance. Yet there was no one whom we could thank in person. We just closed our eyes, shared our gratitude, and walked with the seed thought of Nishkam Seva (Selfless Service.