Sleepless in India

What a noisy country India is! In the 28 days that we traveled around the Northwestern regions, there was only a few nights that I felt I had a sound sleep. Combine this with waking before sunrise to make photographs in the soft morning light and I'm at the point where I really could use a few nights of quality, quiet sleep. Here in India, it seems that the truly quiet hours for good sound sleep are limited to the time between two o'clock to about 4:30 am, before the raw energy of India life begins with its various colorful chaos and mysterious religious ceremonies.

India is a land of religious diversity. In the small area that we have explored, we have found Hinduism, Islam, Sikhism, Buddhism and Jainism, all mingled throughout the communities we've visited. Each of the temples, mosques, shrines and even ashrams are equipped with amplified sound systems that often crackle and pop along with the prayers, sacred chants and songs that are played at high volume. At the mosques, the chanting of prayers begins at 5am and is repeated five times throughout the day. Add to this the Hindu and Jain temples that offer their own flavors of chants and prayers and you can understand how precious a moment of quiet sleep is to me. Along the streets leading to these places of worship are shops selling tapes, CDs and VCDs of the sacred music so that the devout can play them at home, at high volume, of course. While Moslem prayers are conducted according to a fixed schedule, we can't figure out the schedule associated with Hindu temples, and to us, it seems that the musical prayers can start at any time of day or night. The Sikhs are very solemn and serious about their prayers, and their sacred music is unsurpassed in the beauty of its sound, no matter what time it's played.

The amount of noise in any town, especially on and around major roads is overwhelming during the daytime. Drivers are constantly using their horns as turn signals and warnings for overtaking and passing, and the practice is widely encouraged as a form of communication between each other. There isn’t a moment in the day when all of these loud noises come to a halt. Large trucks and public buses have comically melodious but deafening horns, and many motorcycles have upgraded to those that are normally heard from full size cars.

Add to all that noise the celebrations of Diwali, where the firecrackers and fireworks began to blast everywhere in India just before the start of the festival and continued for several days after. The explosives, especially those detestable "Atom Bombs" echo far and wide through the night air.

You might think that when people are conversing close-by to people who are sleeping, that the speaker might lower his voice as not to wake them. In fact, it's quite the opposite, they raise their voice just to get through all of the other noises, and end up almost yelling to be heard.

Around 1AM, all these noises finally start to die down as most people begin to go to sleep and traffic becomes sparse. This is just about the time when the dogs come out to wander the empty streets looking for food or a fight. The barking, growling and howling begins to echo through the narrow streets, reaching the ears of other dogs, which answer the call with their own howls, and trigger a citywide dog barking chain reaction.

When we look for a room, many hotels lead us to their "rooms with a view", which usually means it faces a busy street and will offer all kinds of non-stop noises at night. To top it off, the minute I lay down to sleep my mind begins to spin with all kinds of unexpected thoughts and emotions. The train of thought leads to another and then yet another until a temple or mosque in the neighborhood begins their high-volume prayer broadcast.

Now that I've explained just how noisy this part of India is, there is one strange phenomenon that I find quite interesting. It seems that while my brain is preoccupied with all these loud noises, which results in a lack of sleep and fatigue, some small area of my brain registers the unknown sound as a new experience, and I think to myself "What the hell is this? I've never heard such a strange, unique, interesting sonic effect before. This must be India…" Then I let out a smile before I fall into a shallow, short sleep.

Heritage of The Mughals

We've driven all over Northwestern India in a white Ambassador, India's classic car. From Rishikesh to Agra and into Rajasthan we've seen evidence of the tremendous monuments left by the Mughal Empire during the 15th through 17th century. The most famous of these is the Taj Mahal in Agra, which some say is the most beautiful structure in the world. When I finally laid my eyes on the real thing, I, too, felt it one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. Its cool white marble surface emits a solemn, peaceful energy.

The most photographed view of the Taj Mahal is from the front gates. From that position the geometric gardens, pools and fountains stretch towards the dominating mausoleum. Built by the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan as a tomb for his beloved wife, Wumtaz Mahal, it sits like a meditating priestess, surrounded by four minarets at each corner. The name, Taj Mahal, fits the structure well. It means "Crown of the Palace".

We entered the grounds before sunrise and at this early hour the area was still quite. Only a few other tourists were visiting and we felt able to appreciate its beauty fully. Seeing the Taj in photos is one thing, but being up close, touching the intricate inlayed prayers and patterns with your finger, is a whole other level of appreciation.

The sacred Persian scripts, as well as the motifs of flowers and animals were all laid out using 28 gems and minerals gathered from all over India, China, Tibet and the Middle East. The primary material used in the structure is white Rajasthan marble, which has been so precisely cut and put together that not even the smallest insect could crawl inside.

In addition to the Taj, there are a number of old forts and palaces left behind by the Mughals in Rajasthan. Forts seem to be built on strategic desert hilltops and mountains, and are recognized for their historic and artistic significance. We visited the Amber (pronounced "Amer") Fort located outside Jaipur, Junagarh located in Bikaner, and Meherangarh in Jodhpur. Each one of these forts is huge, with outer walls typically soaring up to 100 meters. Inside, they all boast splendid palaces and residence. The layout is a maze of corridors and rooms.

Each fort and palace comes with its own presentation. The most enjoyable to us was Meherangarh in Jodhpur, which provides a well-documented audio tour. The fort is still managed and operated by the local Maharaja himself. Rajasthani style decorations are a common feature in these Forts. Stone, mud, ash, minerals, glass and mirrors are used to create geometric patterns and motifs of flowers and animals. They are a fusion of exotic India and Persian cultures with local customs suitable to the land.

The Mughals left behind these monuments with stunning beauties and endearing stories. They show not only their artistic and often-poetic sensibilities, incredible mathematical and architectural skills, but also their capacity to combine all of these to express themselves. While these may not necessarily represent the current Muslim cultures, the Mughals' heritage provides a hint for understanding them through their past.

The Night of Atom Bomb

India celebrated Diwali, the most important festival of the year, during the week of November 12th. Also known as "The Festival of Light", Diwali is much like Christmas, New Years, and Thanksgiving all rolled into one. At the heart of the festival is the family, and those who work or study away from home try their best to return for the celebrations. Our driver, Yadov, was no exception, so we took advantage of the opportunity and drove to his hometown of Tijara to spent a few days celebrating with his family.

There are all kinds of fireworks and firecrackers available for Diwali, in fact, it seems to be a necessary ingredient for the celebrations. A few days before the festival, in Agra and again in Jaipur, we would hear their explosions in the evening, and see the sky light up. There didn't seem to be any restrictions on the sale or purchase of these explosives and many street stalls sprang up in the days before the festival.

There is one particular firecracker, called the Atom Bomb, that produces such explosive power and deafening sound, it's hard to grasp that it is sold casually on the street corner. The cover of the box, which holds a dozen of these nasty objects, has an illustration of a man screaming in horror after the explosion. Outside Yadov’s house, guys in their twenties gathered and were having a blast lighting them off. The air around the neighbor shook with every burst. Combined with all the other sounds of firecrackers and fireworks throughout the town, the night of Diwali sounded like a war was raging outside the window.

I happened to walk close by to one of these explosions and its power whipped my clothes and hair and caused my ears to ring for two days afterwards. One of the guys said, laughing, “It’s an ‘Atom Bomb’. Great, huh? BOOOOM! Just like Hiroshima and Nagasaki.” He didn't know I was Japanese and his intention wasn't to insult me, rather, he was just engulfed in the pure joy of setting off these "crackers" in celebration of Diwali.

For them, it was just a fun thing to do for the festival, but as a Japanese, I guess I reflected on it much differently and wasn't enjoying these "Atom Bombs" very much. The idea of marketing anything under this name just didn't sit well with me, though Indians always say, "Anything is possible in India". It's just that the young mans indifferent attitude to the two cities destroyed by real atom bombs was disconcerting.

While the festival of lights in this small Indian town allowed us to peek into the life of an Indian family during their most important festival, I found myself reflecting on the state of the world and what would become of. As explosions of "Atom Bombs" continued late into the night, my mind kept churning until I finally fell asleep just before dawn.

Mother Ganga

The Ganjes River, or Ganga as its called here, is considered to be the mother of India, a sacred river and the source of all beings. In the northwestern state of Uttaranchal, this holy river leaves its Himalayan home and travels downstream to enter the flat plains below. The river exits the foothills of the mighty mountains in the pilgrimage centers of Rishikesh and Haridwar.

Rishikesh is the more northern of the two centers. The river is surrounded by hills on three sides and the water runs crystal clear and cold. The town itself became famous in the West after the Beatles (especially George Harrison) made a pilgrimage here to visit their guru, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Today, in addition to Hindu worship, it is well know as a yoga and meditation center. While it is still hot in Northwest India in November, Rishikesh can be cold as a strong wind blows down the tree-lined valley each evening.

Haridwar, a small and comparatively quiet town, is located at the point where the Ganges emerges from the Himalayas into the vast flat lands of northwest India. It is considered to be one of the most sacred cities in all of India and pilgrims visit all year to bathe in the holy river. The water runs clear and cold down from the Rishikesh valley and is much more hygientically friendly than other sacred spots such as Veranasi. At the Har-ki Pairi, the precise spot where the Ganges is said to leave the Himilaya and enter the plains, it is believed that the river has intense power to wash away all sin. It is here on the bathing ghats that people enter the water and pray to their favorite gods.

In addition to the frenetic religious activity happening all around, other people are going about their daily activities that require the use of water, such as washing clothes, brushing teeth and collecting water for cooking. Many of the activities we associate with inside the home in the West all happen here in public, under the sun. On the banks of the Ganges, worship and daily life are intertwined and all occur simultaneously. Such sights are amazing and mysterious, as well as full of humor and drama. Reflecting on this, it might be said that that daily live in all cultures is amazing when everything is exposed to the public at the same time.

At both Rishikesh and Hardiwar priests and pilgrims make offerings of flowers, candles and incense to the sacred river at sunset in a ceremony called "ganga aarti". The river takes on a magical glow of faint candlelight while the smell of incense wafts through the air and the sounds of bells, prayers, and music is heard along its banks. We looked upon this sight speechlessly while observing the rituals and absorbing the calm and peaceful energy.

We remembered a traveler whom we met in Kunming, China, who said "Whenever I go to India, I can skip a visit to Veranasi but I cannot skip going back to Rishikesh." After visiting this special place, we could understand what he was referring to. One afternoon we crossed a suspension bridge and passed several ashrams as we walked upstream. We found several isolated stretches of sandy beaches along the riverbank where the Ganges flows wide and clean with slow currents and fast moving rapids. It is deep and cold, and its currents can make it dangerous, but the water is full of a powerful energy that we couldn't resist. After some time we found a safe spot to enter her, and fully submerged our bodies in her cleansing waters. Others came and went around us as we rested on her shores, enjoying her inviting waters, attractive views of mountains, and the feeling of her sacred spirit.

Golden Dawn

At dawn, the sun shines its heavenly light on the Golden Temple, the holiest of shrines in the Sikh religion. The temple is located in the city of Amritsar in the Indian state of Punjab. With 18 million followers of the faith in India, and many more around the world, Punjab is the center of Sikh religion and culture. Everyone is required to cover their head with cloth and wash their hands and feet before entering the holy structure. Shoes, tobacco and leather must be left outside the gate.

We approached the gate of the temple before sunrise. The cool morning air was filled with the gentle sounds of sacred chanting accompanied by Indian percussions. Our feet fell upon the marble floor underneath us, still cool from the passing night. The first sight to grace our eyes is the golden Hari Mandir Sahib, the two-storey temple in the center of the sacred pool called Amrit Sarovar or "pool of nectar". The Golden Temple appeared to be floating within it, projecting its magnificent reflection onto the waters surface. Worshippers kneel at first sight of the temple, in which Sikh's holy scripture called Guru Granth Sahib is enshrined.

After entering and the initial worship, visitors walk clock-wise around the pool along the Parkarma, the marble walkway surrounding the water. Men and women bathe in the ghats at the waters edge, offering their prayers and cleansing their bodies with the sacred water. When they are finished bathing they have a fulfilled look about them. People find peace in their own ways, such as sitting by the side of the pool meditating or quietly conversing in small groups in the shade. The chanting of the Holy Scripture, accompanied by harmonies and tabla drums are always in the background, echoing softly in everybody's ears.

As the morning sunshine broke through the city's dusty air and into the quietness of the shrine the marble structures turned hues of yellow, orange and pink, bringing with it a livelier atmosphere. The golden building stood firmly at the center with its overwhelming presence, and never fell out of our view. Young men were dressed in the latest hip-hop fashion while women wore the traditional saree. A westerner stood at his easel painting the glorious view of the Golden Temple filled with gorgeous light and color.

Actually, only the dome on Hari Mandir's roof is made of gold with the rest made from brass. The Arabic design and delicate details on its sides become visible upon approach from Guru's Bridge. Inside the temple are four high priests who continuously read from the sacred text and bless the visitors, along with a set of musicians who perform the music. Sikhs sit down on the floor, absorbedly listening and praying.

Sikhism was founded in the late 15th century and began as a reaction against the caste system and Brahmin domination of ritual. It was aimed at blending the best of Islam and Hinduism together. Sikhs believe in one god and reject the worship of idols. This temple does not have idols of gods for that reason, but instead displays pictures of the 10 Sikh gurus.

The sacred feeling of the temple is heightened by the fact that it's perpetually being cleaned and that the all structures, aside from the Hari Mandir, are made from white marble. The quiet energy of the temple is in great contrast with the chaotic streets outside its gate, filled with many people and much traffic moving about in a fog of dust. One could easily choose to spend an entire day within its walls absorbing the peace and solitude that the temple offers.