Circus of Life, Leaf, On The Road
Leave a Comment

RICE was it ?

The night was strange. It was a mix of sleeping deep and aware of some thing wrong. Two weeks were over in Leh and as I had planned I got a bike for myself from Angchuk. I wanted to have a classic 350 but after the new UT status, government has ordered the bike union to commercialise all the bikes or they ll be seized. I got a Himalayan with me. While coming down to the narrow path of lama ji lane, something must have happened, the tandem that joins the knee started giving me a limp. As I lied in bed in the night the pain was such non sense that I couldn’t really understand. Throughout night as I moved from one position to other, I could feel the weight of my leg. In the morning when other artists had left I got up annoyed and in haste positioned myself in Padmasana. The whole nerve from my face to toe went so white that I could not see a thing with my eyes open first thing in the morning. I remember asking myself, what is happening ? I breathed deep and pressed my knee and remembered RICE – Rest Ice Compression and Elevation. I went down slowly limping and washed my face.

In the kitchen Cynthia welcomed me morning and asked me to join with Priya over tea. She arrived late, lost looking all over the place lamaji’s house. It’s no easy to reach here for sure. For next three hours I learnt what Cynthia has been doing for women and disabled children. About villages and nomadic tribes trying hard to get their kids to the best public schools who are ripping off all the pride they might have had of these kids. About the status of women and the hopelessness in young girls who can’t even let anything out unlike boys who can at least go riding bikes or playing outside.

Talking with Cynthia opened me to a possibility to not ride off to as far as Hanley, instead move around villages and tribes living under 70-100 kilometres circumference. I ll decide that after assessing what Cynthia provides me with tomorrow.

Afternoon I rode outside Leh for a bit but bike isn’t that much fun. Bullet would have been just perfect. But may be soon.

Intuition is indicating towards a coming change. It must be right. Let’s follow the gut.

The leg behaved well after the morning incident yet the body needs to be attended to now. One key to start is : breathe deep.

This entry was posted in: Circus of Life, Leaf, On The Road

by

Hello, My name is Narayan. I am a teacher and an Ethnographer. After college i opted for teaching in far away villages of the Himalayas and later in Central rural India. And gradually as I wandered along the local streams and rivers, unending fields i learnt not only about myself but India and what is it to be Indian, living with various families throughout India. And to tell you, there is nothing more than a smile and an effort to make their children lives better that makes them happy. I have been independently working as a writer, photographer and filmmaker. For past many years I have been travelling the Indian subcontinent teaching and extensively documenting rural and her communities. Learning and understanding culture, communication and various ways of human mind and body. I am a student of History and did my masters in it. And later studied Sanskrit. When you realise the alignment of your spirit with the world around you, winds take you to places in the Himalayas, where you learn the ancient Yogic way of nerve healing, I can't really know myself but since then all the above mentioned things altogether has helped me generously to enter homes for shelter and food in the night. I come back to Delhi. Here mother and I run a small school for children.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s