When Brahma dropped a lotus from the sky it fell on Pushkar and created a sacred lake hemmed in by desert and mountains, a lake ringed by wonderfully scenic ghats now sadly over populated by predatory priests, persistently pugnacious and pointedly pertinaceous pundits who attempt with all their might to further confuse the already thin line between commerce and spirituality.
We resist their overtures and look upon their Pharisaical and bulging eyed beard clutching pronouncements with the studied indifference they deserve.
Big turbans and big staches dominate the lanes and alleys.
Weve had our turbans on a little too tight and been humping our camels a little too hard so are lying back bros and siestas, in a beautiful converted haveli called “The Inn of the Seventh Heaven”. It is too.
The views from the window. That’s a Holy Temple on top of that Holy Mountain, directly beneath the Holy Sky and Holy Clouds, entirely surrounded by holy oxygen, accha grasshoppers, do you see ? ALL is wholly holy. Even holes are holy.
The Streets and the Lake.
All very lovely. This being India anomalies also are occurring. Tigers suckling little chaps and 5 legged cows ? You bet !
The Dislocated Hippies 