Three Parts of a River - The End

Wrapping myself in a blanket, I turned my phone to silence. Tomorrow was my birthday. Not that my friends call me these days at midnight to wish me, but just in case. I didn't want my sleep to be disturbed by any notifications. I closed my eyes. Visuals from the day bristled through my mind. A calm river, some pebbles and the people we met. As they washed over me, I savoured every bit of it. My tired legs gave in to sleep but not just yet. I like the little time I find myself dreaming before I go to bed. The liminal space between wakefulness and sleep is a rich space for possibility. It is a transition between the past and the future. A time between memories and dreams. A moment to make a wish you really want to happen before you unknowingly drift into sleep.

Waking up the next morning, I was thrilled to start a new day. Do you know how the sun shines a little more brightly on your birthday? There is that extra excitement listening to all those who love you wish you, call you to talk. It's a horror when a room full of people sing happy birthday but I was in a place faraway to be protected from that. This birthday was going to be personal calls only. The first person who called to wish was my brother. Even before I woke up from bed, he called to ask me where I was in the world for this birthday, "Rishikesh!" I exclaimed. "Wow, amazing. Have a great day!" he said. With a smile I got down my bunk bed and headed for the balcony. I watched the sunrise and inhaled the fresh air. I woke Saurabh up after I had brushed. He hugged me and wished me a Happy Birthday and went back to sleep again.

Our bus back to Delhi was at 9 in the night and we had the whole day ahead of us. Since we had to vacate our hostel in the morning we booked another hostel to stay on the other side of the river. Trudging behind Saurabh and pulling my muddy suitcase which had small stones stuck in it's wheels that it refused to move, I walked. And walked. All the way to the bridge, across it, and onto the other side. Luckily I didn't feel alone, because there were so many tourists on the main road haplessly pulling their luggage. I noticed that the autorickshaws that plied to and fro only consisted of locals but no tourists. We were left to our own devices.

Once we had crossed the bridge, the hostel was few more kilometres away. Asking directions from the locals, we walked even more before reaching a taxi stand when a driver with a jeep agreed to take us closer to the location. The rickety jeep ride was even more tiresome. Atchaya called me on video to wish me. I picked up the call, and she was unable to see my face; only a visual of a person travelling in a rattling vehicle. She asked me to call after I reached my destination and in a stable position.

We reached the hostel and it looked a little sketchy on the outside. The caretaker was cleaning the dorms just then. The lobby had a worn out sofa with tattered fabric and a refrigerator stood by the corner with some Maaza and Coke bottles. I wondered what the expiry date on the soft drinks would be. Maybe that would convince me about legitimacy of the place we were staying. Once we were shown our dorm room, I was surprised to find not one but two adjoining bathrooms. They were sparkly clean and I was relieved. We stepped outside to buy some shampoo; I had forgotten to pack one on the trip and I had to take a hair wash on my birthday. This side of the river was completely in contrast to the other one. While Upper Tapovan was calm and peaceful, this area was full of hustle and bustle. Narrow alleyways with tiny hostels stood by the sides and the man road was filled with shops selling souvenirs of every kind. Dry fruits, fragrances, mandala art, jewellery, clothes and even novelty cigarettes. We stopped by a shop to buy some shampoo and decided to go out and explore the market later during the day.

I was too tired to take a shower that I ended up sleeping in for a few hours. The bed was similar to a train berth. There was a small yellow light and a fan inside the compartment like bunk bed. This hostel was old. My day started at afternoon, after a nice hot shower and a birthday lunch. I'd told Saurabh that we'll get some cake later but both of us weren't feeling a sweet tooth that day. We walked through the markets gaping at the colourful windows. Kriti called during lunch, and Sandhya after. We grabbed some chai and followed a walking trail paved with tiles which turned out to be the easiest pathway we had found in Rishikesh so far. I sensed that all the people walking here were locals. Maybe some park was nearby. We crossed small ashrams, monks sitting outside huts, and a government school. All overlooking the river. Each building was surrounded by gardens and greenery and huge trees. What would I give to live in a place like this! Saurabh said he would plan another trip to Rishikesh just to come stay at an ashram like the ones we saw.

A government school.

We reached the river bank and it was sparsely populated with huge grey rocks. A small shivalinga and a dutiful Nandi formed a small praying space nearby. A Trishul marked the perimeter and I prayed since it was my birthday. We sat by on a rock, river-watching once again. Our neighbouring river watchers were very different from one another - one man was meditating with his eyes closed, a couple of kids played around and someone was taking a selfie. Surprisingly, even if there were some people, there was complete quiet. The flurry of the river silenced us all. Saurabh said this funny story about his uncle swimming to the other bank of the river and coming back before he realised. As a child, Saurabh thought that his uncle had disappeared only to find him standing behind him lathering soap all over his body and bathing himself. It was a funny story, and it makes me laugh even today.

A temple by the river bank. (on my birthday)

After sunset, we went back to the market. I bought some bead bracelets and fragrances as a birthday gift to myself. We walked further and found a shop covered with mandala painting and tapestries. Nisha, the owner showed us some paintings. They were incredibly detailed laden with golden embellishments and circular patterns depicting the stories of the Boddisattva. As dinner time neared, we stepped into a curious looking cafe to eat something. The cafe was covered with photographs across the wall with no breathing space. At the entrance, rectangular signboards showing weird menu items like a 'milky bar' chapathi hung inviting interested visitors inside. In the corner was a Shiva statue and some idols forming an almost temple like presence inside. Motivational quotes stared at me from the other side. We had a nice chat with the shopkeeper who said his business has been down ever since the renovation of the Lakshman Jhula bridge.

Saurabh, Hari Om cafe, Rishikesh. (June, 2023)

Night fell and the lights in the city glittered along the glistening river. The vehicles moving on the bridge looked like small fireflies. We sat by the steps of the ghat. A father with two kids were sitting near us. Saurabh lit up a cigarette and moved to the farthest end of the step so that the smoke didn't disturb the kids. "You should stop smoking. " I said, again. He smiled guiltily. He had been telling me that he'd quit since he had visited me in Goa a couple years ago. Samvit and Stuti, my flatmates from Goa - video called. "Happy Birthday Swarna!" they wished with excitement. "Thank you so much!" I said, wrapping the last call of the day. I felt so loved. I sat by watching the river flow from darkness into darkness.

I wanted to watch the river until dawn but we had to leave. To reach the bus stop at the outskirts of the city we hitch hiked on two scooters. I lugged my suitcase onto the seat and clutched it tightly for support. The riders took us through dark alleyways, forest like trails and even the suspension bridge filled with people to the brim. It was like GTA Rishikesh. The last stretch of road ran alongside the flowing river. I kept gazing at it while on the scooter, even after boarding the bus, flowing with it until the moment I unknowingly fell asleep.