Uschilini

Bhaiya's/Brothers

As a little girl, I always wanted a brother. I constantly pestered my Mom and Dad as to why they wouldn’t give me one-a companion to hang out with, and share my adventures, mostly in the forrests of southern Germany.

As I’ve immersed myself in this culture, I’ve also aquired some ‘Bhaiya’s’, brothers made through the summer festival of ‘Rakhi’, or ‘Rakshabhand’. At first just a playful way to mark a friendship, I am being shown the true meaning of this festival.

My last two trips were confirmations in the connections that I cultivated here; with these Bhaiyas, 2 in particular. Madhukar, my friend who runs the cafe where I write all this-has been my friend since my first trip. Brijess, a brother made on my last trip is a newer friend, but a complete sweetheart, and caring friend.

What I hadn’t realized was how my Bhaiya’s would actually be there for me as family, and friends. The tying of the sacred threads was actually us cementing a connection we’d already cultivated, and from now on-they’d be concerned about me, my needs, and how I’m being treated.

2 nights ago I hopped on Madhukar’s bike to go meet his family. Welcomed by warm faces, giggles, and sweets and chai-I fumbled through my hin-glish and relied on Madhukar to do the translating. I found myself sitting on his bed with his wife, cuddling with the children and looking at old photos.

Pradanth, Madhukar and Shruti’s older son writes out his birthday and when I should come. I’m amazed at his skills, as their younger son Eakansh holds himself up on the bed and toddles across the floor. I feel so at home, and loved, and loving. mmmnn!

 At night I go the guesthouse and my Bhaiya Brigess cooks for me. Everything he makes is spiced with love, and seasoned generosity. We go up to the roof, and he makes sure I know that my chapatis have been warmed with his homemade ghee-Every meal is a specialty that he is sharing with me…yummy! We sit and chat, and take in the Varanasi night.

I am relaxing into the support of these friends. It’s a new thing to feel so supported by men, and trust that they will be there for me-no matter what. It’s nothing sexual-they are just committed to being a friend, and a brother, and being part of my life.

Yesterday I walked down to Manikarnika for the first time since I arrived.

Empowered in my steps by love, I meet the shouts of the boatmen with ‘Nahin Chahiye’ and stroll up the steps of the Ghat with confidence. The faces of the tourists are still-Varanasi is melting away some of their illusions, and creating space in their hearts to let India, and themselves in.

I gaze down the ghat to the pyres, a corpse has been exposed underneath it’s swaddling, and the reality of impernanece signals those less familiar with the melting away of flesh and hair.

I am striding these streets in fullness. Up the Gali’s, along the many streets and past an infinate number of temples, I sink into the motherland, and myself. The dirt and filth of Varanasi start to fade to me now. Dog poo, roaches, mice, smelly trash-they are just passing through, like us.

Yesterday I passed the meanest looking dog ever, snarling at an opponent, and ready to protect its life. This little black beast was bones and skin, tail curled under, spine rounded, and all his teeth exposed. I feel something like compassion for him, his life on these intense streets, to live and die at the mercy of cars, bikes, and humans-and in hopes of the next scrap of trash that becomes a meal. But he was born here, so?

I arrive at my destination, my shanti lunch spot, and order my favorite ginger lemon juice-I start to peel open my book, A compilation of letters by the modern ‘mystic’ and theosophist Simone Weil:

‘As one must learn to read, or to practice a trade, so one must learn to feel in all things, first and almost soley, the obedience of the universe as God. It is really an apprenticeship…….Whoever has finished his apprenticeship recognizes things and events, everywhere and always, as vibrations of the same divine and infinately sweet word.’