When 30 million people get together to bathe at the confluence of three rivers (one of which is imaginary) one knows that it is going to be a pretty special day. According to the stars who read the stars, the 24th of January was to be the holiest day to be at the Kumbh Mela. As this was also the Maha Kumbh, occurring only once every 144 years, it was to be a most auspicious occasion. All who bathed were promised to wash away all their bad karma and perhaps even secure a direct route to heaven. I doubted that the few drops of nectar that the Gods were supposed to have dropped at the Mela site would be enough to reverse the effects of my years of service to one of the ‘most honourable’ legal profession, but it was worth a shot. If it didn’t work, at least I would have good grounds on which to lodge an appeal.
After establishing base camp at Varanassi, my partner and I left for Allahabad on the 23rd of January to participate in this great karma cleansing event. We rode there on top of an overcrowded bus which had one brick on the accelerator and another on the horn. We were mostly comfortable, though the roof rack caused us both to develop a touch of kumbharse.
On arrival, we were overwhelmed by clouds of dust, never-ending rows of tents and masses of pilgrims all of whom seemed to have a much better idea of what was going on than us. Though we were still a long way from the water, we were already well out of our depth with not a hint of the English language to be seen or heard anywhere and the few information signs which we found missing the crucial ‘you are here’ arrow.
After six solid hours of trudging we located some friendly foreigners who lead us to an ashram which was playing host to the foreigners from the ‘Rainbow Camp’. Despite my determined efforts, the best I could ascertain was that the ‘Rainbow Camp’ was run by the ‘Rainbow Family’ (no doubt some ultra conservative right wing Christian group or maybe some Brady Bunch throwback).
It seems that the Rainbow Camp is where foreigners who are in India “to find themselves” gather to smoke hash, paint each others’ bodies and play bongo drums – a sure path to enlightenment.
It appears that many Rainbow People, like so many of my fellow ‘India Heads’, come to India to experiment with drugs (which they are probably all too well acquainted with in any case). Why one would come to India for this reason I cannot say.
As far as I can tell, it is easier, relatively cheaper and a hell of a lot safer to do such things in one’s own country. After all, billboards depicting picturesque beach scenes offer gentle reminders that being caught with drugs can result in 20 years imprisonment and then go on to wish the reader a happy and drug free holiday. (So just don’t get too happy okay!) Police stations proudly display rogues galleries of dreadlocked undesirables who they have caught with drugs and locked up for good, many of whom look just like some of my best friends from back home.
Though we were not staying in the Rainbow Camp itself, I understand that it was well out of the actual Mela area. This is in keeping with the practice of such groups to gather at spots where there are as few of those pesky Indians about as possible. Those guys are always just trying to bum your hash or lock you up for having it (or both). By doing their best to avoid being here while here (and by wiping their hands on their arses because it’s more environmentally friendly dude!) theses folks are ‘doing India’. No doubt many will return home with wonderful memories which are more than likely stories which they were told by others while high. (At least the odds are that they would be told by someone sharing an identical alternative look, so I guess that’s pretty close to a first hand experience.)
The Rainbow People, though weird and wanky, were mighty kind, feeding us and giving us a place to stay for the night. We were lulled to sleep by the sound of overly energetic Hindu chanting and preaching which bellowed through loudspeakers all around the Mela area. 24 hours a day. God(s) bless their souls.
We awoke at 4 am to some Rainbow chick tapping us on our heads and informing us that it was “time to bathe and wash away your bad karma”. After offering a quick rebuke and adding to my already burgeoning bank of bad karma I went back to sleep until we decided to make our move at 6 am. By this stage, a number of the Rainbow People had already returned after abandoning their attempts to bathe. They were complaining about the disorderly behaviour of the Indians and preaching that “if they would each just get in touch with their inner child, perhaps they would behave more like adults”. The Rainbow People were soon engaged in a debate as to why some Indians were shaving their heads by the river, concluding that it must have been because of head lice. They then joined hands around the fire and starting singing Hare Krishna chants. Oh to live in such a state of bliss!
The crowds heading to bathe were indeed huge, but much more calm and passive than I had become accustomed to in India. Perhaps it was because everyone was so exhausted (be it due to all the walking or the antics of the Rainbow People), but there was clearly a spiritual feel in the air. I just hoped that it would also be in the water.
The water’s edge was filthy with the bad karma of millions. Nevertheless, the promise of redemption was all too inviting and driven by the encouragement of the faithful and a sudden burst of “what the hell” we bathed. I felt terribly humbled by the emotion and spirituality of those around me… I also felt cold.
After bathing, we were alerted to a parade of Naga Babas marching past, loudly beating their drums. Like all Sadhus, Naga Babas have renounced all worldly desires and possessions (and of course all worldly responsibilities) in a spiritual quest to wander around India smoking hash. However, these most revered and feared of all Sadhus take renunciation to the extreme remaining naked at all times save for painting their bodies with ash. Body painting? Drums? Hash? Now where had I seen this before?
Exhausted, yet uplifted, we left on the 24th of January with millions of others. The mass exodus strained the roads and the Indians did not miss the opportunity to replenish their stocks of bad karma in fits of road rage before even returning home from their cleansing at the magnificent Kumbh Mela!