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Naplóm 2008-ban – indiai utazásaim kezdetén – azzal a céllal indult, hogy akkori élményeim fóruma legyen. Magam sem tudom mikor történt, de az útinapló egyszer csak átfordult, spirituális vándorlatom beszámolójává. Majd’ 2 éve, hogy Indiában is gyökereket eresztettem. Azóta megvívtam vele harcaim. Olykor szent madárként, érinthetetlenként, olykor soha be nem fogadható idegenként bánik velem. Írásaimban, eme, naponta megtett lélekvándorlatokról mesélek.
Fotó: Rajat Hooja; Bhangarh, India 2009; All rights reserved.
“The first thing I noticed about Bombay, on that first day, was the smell of the different air. I could smell it before I saw or heard anything of India, even as I walked along the umbilical corridor that connected the plane to the airport. I was excited and delighted by it, in that first Bombay minute, escaped from prison and new to the wide world, but I didn’t and couldn’t recognize it. I know now that it is the sweet, sweating smell of hope, which is opposite of hate; and it is the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love. It is the smell of gods, demons, empires and civilizations in resurrection and decay. It is the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the Island City, and the blood-metal smell of machines. It smells of stir and sleep and waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucial failures and loves that produce our courage. It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches and mosques and of a hundred bazaars devoted exclusively to perfumes, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers. Karla once called it the worst good smell in the world … (…) But whenever I return to Bombay, now, it’s my first sense of the city – that smell, above all things – that welcomes me and tells me I’ve come home. (…) §
(…) Then there were the people. Assamese, Jats and Punjabis; people from Rajasthan, Bengal and Tamil Nadu; from Pushkar, Cochin and Konarak; warrior caste, Brahmin and untouchable; Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Parsee, Jain, Animist; fair skin and dark, green eyes and golden brown and black; every different face and form of that extravagant variety, that incomparable beauty, India.”
(Gregory David Roberts: SHANTARAM)
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