The Adventures of Bindi Girl: (2012) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Erin Reese
head. Out of sheer guilt, Shiva immediately replaced it with the head of the very first animal he came across, which happened to be an elephant. Ganesh is known as the Divine Remover of Obstacles, a very handy deity to have around! He is always prayed to first, before proceeding with any other rite or ritual. He is of particular importance to travelers and writers, and is also a great bestower of wisdom.
The luminous goddess Saraswati is the consort of Lord Brahma. Maa Saraswati rides a swan and has four to eight arms, depending on the depiction. She holds a stringed instrument called a veena on her lap, and several sacred scriptures known as the Vedas in her hands. Saraswati is the goddess of learning, teaching, music, knowledge, and all related areas.
Lord Krishna and his lovely consort Radha are all about the love. Krishna seduced a group of milkmaids ( gopis ), of which Radha was the most enticing, albeit (gasp!) married—but that didn’t stop them from joining together in a divine play ( lila ); Radha was drunk with divine love ( bhakti ) and couldn’t help herself. They both play flutes and the flamboyant, blue-skinned, peacock plume-wearing Krishna is the most gorgeous of all gods. Hare Krishna—it’s the real thing!
Room with River View
14 th of December, Rishikesh
Here in this holy pilgrimage destination, I feel lucky and blessed to have found a little bungalow directly on the bank of the Ganges, considered an actual, living goddess (“Ganga Maa,” as she is called—the Great Mother).
My little nook at the riverside guest house costs a whopping 100 Rupees per night (US$2.00). No hot shower, but 24-hour bucket hot water, and even a Western standard, sit-down toilet (although it doesn’t take long to get your thigh strength and proper stance down for the squat toilets—necessity is the mother of invention). My walls are painted a sweet robin-egg blue. And directly across from my cozy bed, I can look out the window to gaze upon the turquoise blue river goddess Herself.
My favorite times of the day in Rishikesh are early morning, just before the crack of dawn, and in the late evening, for two reasons, both auditory: The first is that lovely, power-haunting howl the wind makes as it gusts through the river valley at dawn and late at night. This is especially delightful since the wind stops practically on the dot at noon each day, and the weather warms up nicely to clear blue skies and welcome sunshine.
The second reason is that, at these two times of day, the omnipresent, piercing sound of amplified Hindi music disappears. Ahhhh … my brain gives a sigh of relief. Maybe in another life I will learn the secret as to why Indians seem to need ALL music turned up to the point of distortion. Another secret to be revealed, in a following life, will be the answer to why they feel the need to play the same song over and over and over again, every day, until the tape is eaten by the machine itself.
Or— tsk-tsk —a sneaky American girl puts a monkey-wrench into the machinery and snips a wire or two, putting an end to the relentless, deafening squeal of Bollywood blockbuster soundtracks screeching throughout the village.
Vinod, the 22-year-old manager of my guest house, likens himself to a Bollywood film star, complete with Casanova persona and a young Gregory Peck smile. Vinod does a pretty good job of holding down the fort for his foreign visitors. The first night, as we chatted on the terrace, he revealed to me that his one dream—his ONLY dream in life—is getting to America. Personally, I think he should get himself to Bombay instead and land himself a part in one of those Bollywood movies!
Vinod has kindly offered to teach me Hindi—at least enough to feel comfortable and less ignorant during my half-year stay in India. As of today, I am now able to properly count to ten (that took a full week to learn!). I can also say please, thank you, how are you, I’m fine, HOW MUCH? (I am finally learning to
The luminous goddess Saraswati is the consort of Lord Brahma. Maa Saraswati rides a swan and has four to eight arms, depending on the depiction. She holds a stringed instrument called a veena on her lap, and several sacred scriptures known as the Vedas in her hands. Saraswati is the goddess of learning, teaching, music, knowledge, and all related areas.
Lord Krishna and his lovely consort Radha are all about the love. Krishna seduced a group of milkmaids ( gopis ), of which Radha was the most enticing, albeit (gasp!) married—but that didn’t stop them from joining together in a divine play ( lila ); Radha was drunk with divine love ( bhakti ) and couldn’t help herself. They both play flutes and the flamboyant, blue-skinned, peacock plume-wearing Krishna is the most gorgeous of all gods. Hare Krishna—it’s the real thing!
Room with River View
14 th of December, Rishikesh
Here in this holy pilgrimage destination, I feel lucky and blessed to have found a little bungalow directly on the bank of the Ganges, considered an actual, living goddess (“Ganga Maa,” as she is called—the Great Mother).
My little nook at the riverside guest house costs a whopping 100 Rupees per night (US$2.00). No hot shower, but 24-hour bucket hot water, and even a Western standard, sit-down toilet (although it doesn’t take long to get your thigh strength and proper stance down for the squat toilets—necessity is the mother of invention). My walls are painted a sweet robin-egg blue. And directly across from my cozy bed, I can look out the window to gaze upon the turquoise blue river goddess Herself.
My favorite times of the day in Rishikesh are early morning, just before the crack of dawn, and in the late evening, for two reasons, both auditory: The first is that lovely, power-haunting howl the wind makes as it gusts through the river valley at dawn and late at night. This is especially delightful since the wind stops practically on the dot at noon each day, and the weather warms up nicely to clear blue skies and welcome sunshine.
The second reason is that, at these two times of day, the omnipresent, piercing sound of amplified Hindi music disappears. Ahhhh … my brain gives a sigh of relief. Maybe in another life I will learn the secret as to why Indians seem to need ALL music turned up to the point of distortion. Another secret to be revealed, in a following life, will be the answer to why they feel the need to play the same song over and over and over again, every day, until the tape is eaten by the machine itself.
Or— tsk-tsk —a sneaky American girl puts a monkey-wrench into the machinery and snips a wire or two, putting an end to the relentless, deafening squeal of Bollywood blockbuster soundtracks screeching throughout the village.
Vinod, the 22-year-old manager of my guest house, likens himself to a Bollywood film star, complete with Casanova persona and a young Gregory Peck smile. Vinod does a pretty good job of holding down the fort for his foreign visitors. The first night, as we chatted on the terrace, he revealed to me that his one dream—his ONLY dream in life—is getting to America. Personally, I think he should get himself to Bombay instead and land himself a part in one of those Bollywood movies!
Vinod has kindly offered to teach me Hindi—at least enough to feel comfortable and less ignorant during my half-year stay in India. As of today, I am now able to properly count to ten (that took a full week to learn!). I can also say please, thank you, how are you, I’m fine, HOW MUCH? (I am finally learning to
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