Reflection, Imitation, Experience
Rishikesh Diary 1: Meet Harry over a Chillam
“Either everything was wrong or it was mine.” A semi-dark Indian at half of his age, slightly curly hair, relaxed and settled by unconscious fingers. A wooden smoky pipe half-burnt hanging from his lips. Sipped rest of the chai like the sun dropped on another side of the Himalaya. “My name is not Harry, someone changed it. My mom used to call me Haridayal. My root of Indian citizenship is West Bengal. My great-grand father was a Zaminder over there.”
We met at a tea-stall four years ago. Definitely that was not so impressive meeting. I went to Rishikesh with some of my college-friends. Harry was busy with a foreigner to give her a warm neck message. We were highly curious about the couple. We thought Harry might be a close-guide, who can touch closer body parts of a lady. Permitted with pleasure and highly paid!
I guess, it is the most desired job for any college going student. Being jealous, we passed comments, like so many Delights, college students had a tendency to touch or to comment on whatever the like. Harry turned angry, was totally unexpected even that lady approached us!
Same day, we were smoking weed on road side benches with few Babajis, a local police start screaming. First he started rebuking the Babajis and then turned to us. We were enough blank to think about a possible answer. We saw Harry, watching us from a nearby café. He invited us to take the rest of weed at his café. Grt! So we stepped in the café and got amazed! It was just beside the Ganga and it had an open side that can take you to a Ghat of the river Ganges. There is a common coffee machine and a Shivling. People are sitting around the Ling smoking weeds Chillams and so many.. Really! It was a heaven for the people who love to smoke something 100% natural!
Harry invited us to join the team. He is so nice! It might cost some money but we were ready to pay anything to enjoy the divine smoke with chilled breeze direct from the Ganges. Dimmed light and bright skins of smokers. We were amazed! Just awesome fucking AMAZED!!
“Don’t smoke outside, on the road or Ghats. Families come here for a better reason than yours. Why don’t you join us? You have your own stuff? If you want to smoke more, you can buy directly from any Baba sitting here or I can offer my stuffs to you.”
- No, thanks! We will purchase from Babas, if we need more.
We were obliged already. He introduced us to his girlfriend Anna. Anna was a bit confused face-girl with a sharper thinking process. We spent that night with Harry and Anna, smoking weeds and smoky coffee was enough to rest our soul with a divine feelings.
That was our first pleasant meeting with Harry.
“Call me Harry, I lost my name Haridayal with my mother in Ganga. I came to Rishikesh to fulfil her last wish, to perform her last rituals at Rishikesh Ganga. I was only eighteen at that time. I never seen my dad in my life.”
“You came all along from Bengal?” The river crosses Bengal too.
“My mother came once at her young age here and loved this place so much.”
We are chatting on the same café. Almost same type of people smoking weeds surrounding the same Shivling. After our first meeting, this is the fourth time, we are meeting each other and four times with different women.
“How you manage this?”
“Long list of girl-friends?”
“I am not a Playboy!” Harry claimed. I know that, every time he is so connected to his partner that reflects the strong bondage of relationship.
“I do it for my living.”
“Nice Hobby” I teased.
“Idiot! It’s my Job”
Really! Ahe! I thought it right. He is a guide come caretaker come yoga-trainer come source of booze and all kind of security provider to alone women come to Rishikesh.
“Are you married?”
“No, living with partners since I was 20.”
Harry is throwing bouncers. ‘I want to know your life-story.’ I really do.
“Sure!” Harry promised passing me the chillam. “Press it before you smoke.”
TO BE CONTINUED: Watch this space if you want to travel across a different life with us. Subscribe the page.