I got a free ride to Delhi in a taxi I brought for Malati's mother who flew in, and then moved onwards. I dropped off the car at around 2 AM at New Delhi Railway Station, and found my way into a 24 hour open travel agency opposite the station to book my tickets. I hadn't done that, though in hindsight it would have been wise — Shiva Ratri is behind the corner and all trains to Varanasi and other places significant for the Shaiva tradition are jam packed. Everything was packed for the next three days, and I wasn't into staying in Delhi that long... The price of the ticket doubled as a certain travel agent "managed" me past the 100+ person waiting list — bribery is the mode of action here. Put in 100 rupees in the right place and the doors open again.

It turned out I was to hang around there for a decent while, as the railway booking system wasn't working. It was better than staying at the train station, at any rate. A certain young man who was tending to the matter began telling me his life story. It must have gone on for the better part of two hours.

As he kept telling his tale of grief, I paid attention to the peculiar fact that there was a postcard of the Buddha right before him under the glass of his office table, among the other post cards. I looked at the Buddha in turn, I looked at the man in turn. I saw the truth of dukkha, I saw the origin of dukkha... The multitude of imports of the word unfolded; suffering, discontentedness, agony... Different facets of the foundational experience in the dark well of the samsara.

The whole of the trip up to now has actually had a very distinct uninvited Buddhist presence. At the airport, I met a group of Mahayana monks. At the train station, I met an old and friendly Sri Lankan monk. At the ghats of Varanasi, I met a jolly Vajrayana monk from England. For having never met a Buddhist monk in my life, meeting people from all the three Buddhist paths within 36 hours must count for some kind of an achievement! If it were in another context, someone might say it was god pulling the strings, but since Buddhists don't believe in an omnipotent deity who pulls the karmic strings, the whole thing left me a bit mystified in terms of its philosophical possibilities, regardless of the point of view...

I had a couple of hours to kill in the daytime, so I paid a visit to the Vishwa Shanti Stupa pictured on the front page (website), checking out the curiosity inaugurated as recently as November 2007 in Indraprastha park, Delhi. This monument, built by a Japanese Buddhists group, was a white marble construct with four golden (or gold-colored, anyway!) Buddhas in four positions: One showing the Dharmachakra-mudra (Wheel of Dharma), one the Buddha's departure (parinirvana), one the Abhaya-mudra (fearlessness) and one the Bhumi-sparsa-mudra (touching the ground), four classical positions with a fair Japanese slant in the style. What would otherwise been probably a very peaceful area was a bit noisy owing to about a dozen buses of school kids on a field trip.

I made it to Varanasi at the end of a 12 hour train journey covering 700 kilometers. More on Varanasi in the next blog entry.