The Adventures of Bindi Girl: (2012) Read Online Free Page A

The Adventures of Bindi Girl: (2012)
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to branch. When I wasn’t supposed to be thinking, I was thinking how I couldn’t wait to start thinking again.
    I stayed up at the Vipassana center an extra two days in order to readjust my socially-interactive brain a bit before heading down to the village of McLeod. The best part of an intense retreat is the first day after—walking through the mountains, with the Himalayas towering above, and the green hillside terracing so typical of Asia. Birds chirping, creeks bubbling… it feels like a Technicolor Disney movie. One’s senses are so keen and sharp after such deprivation. It’s like a super vivid dream!
    When I returned to the bustling town of McLeod, it felt like New York City. I wanted to bolt, to catch the next bus out, right away. I felt completely done over, and ready to make a change. Alas, I may have thought I was ready, yet I quickly realized that my mind and coinciding physicality were absolutely 100% exhausted. You may think you’re not wiping yourself out in retreat because physical activity is almost nil; but in fact, the mental exertion is tremendous. It has taken me at least four days to finally feel back to myself. And of course, the concept of who that is must catch up to the past two weeks of change and self-examination—or make that self-emollition.
    There’s a little “travel family” of foreign folks from the Vipassana course who have settled into a group guest house. We are all leaving together tonight on a bus that will whistle over potholes to Rishikesh, which lies about twelve hours south of here in the state of Uttarakhand. As for me, I plan on (yeah right, PLAN—that’s a laugh in India) finding a little nest in Rishikesh. I would like to stay for a while—maybe a month or more, practicing yoga and enjoying the peace and serenity of this holy pilgrimage site at the headwaters of the River Ganges, the great Mother Ganga.
    I’m THRILLED to be heading back into “India proper.” As I’ve described, McLeod is a touristy “Little Lhasa” Tibetan enclave—and a tremendously westernized one at that. It is so cozy and comfortable: pizza parlors, English breakfasts, shops of kitsch, even a makeshift movie hall for the touristas—and that is not what I have traveled halfway around the world to experience. I know Rishikesh will be much more “India.”
    I look forward to the chaos, the colors that take your breath away, the smells that make you wonder what planet you’re on, and the beauty of having to let go and surrender. I only tasted this experience the first four days of my trip (in wacky Delhi) before I whisked myself up to the mountains of McLeod. Now, my real India journey begins anew!

Hare Krishna
    13 th of December, Rishikesh
    It’s strange to think that, halfway around the globe, most of America is gearing up for the holidays. Here in Rishikesh, the self-described “yoga capital of the world,” there isn’t a swath of red or green in sight, no malls to be found, no rosy-cheeked Santas ringing bells. The only bell-ringers are pujaris offering the daily pujas to Lord Shiva (“puja” technically means “offering” in Hindi) each morning and evening, the jingles and jangles emanating from temples and echoing across the river Ganga.
    Lord Shiva is the most worshipped god in India, and holy Rishikesh is quite the hot spot for his worshippers. Shiva is one of the gods in the main Hindu God triad, which includes Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Shiva the destroyer. I have many-a-lifetime to go before scratching the surface of identifying the more-than-330 MILLION gods and goddesses in the Hindu pantheon, but I am learning—slowly. So far, I feel most inspired by Ganesh and Saraswati, as well as the “couple of divine love,” Krishna and Radha.
    Ganesh, also known as Ganapati, is the pink-colored, pot-bellied, elephant-headed god and son of the goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva. In a fit of rage, Shiva the father accidentally lopped off his own son’s human
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