"They (Hindus) say that cows are all our mothers", said my 'brother'
to me. "How come they are given garbage to eat and and they live on
the street. Would you do that to your mother?". My Sikh brother
certainly was not impressed with Hindus despite his religion
tolerating all other gods. In Rishikesh the cows were particularly
pesky and one had head butted me while I was half way across a
suspension bridge. They were constantly stealing food from pilgrims
and entering shops. They weren't threatening just persistent and
cheeky.
I had met my brother in Chandigarh at the Gurdwara (Sikh temple) where
we had eaten langar (a meal). We had parted ways and we bumped into
each other again in Rishikesh. It was a complete fluke as he doesn't
even live there. He started calling me brother as he thought we were
remarkably similar. We are the same age, unmarried, on the quest for
something and have a very similar outlook on life. We walked for hours
before he convinced me to meet his family in Haridwar. So we set off
on an hour bus ride so I could be introduced to the family. His place
was under renovation so they sat me in the courtyard outside out of
the sun and his real brother brought soft drinks, freshly cut apples
and a variety of sweets. In the absence of daughters or wives the
youngest son waited on us hand and foot. It was a delightful time. I
left fairly early to catch the Ganges ceremonies in Haridwar proper
that night.
Back in Delhi. Dentist appointment tomorrow to fix this pesky tooth
once and for all (cross your fingers). Staying in my favourite jail
cell (cheap hotels resemble jails in Delhi) going to my favourite
restaurant and mango milkshake shop.
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