We raced to the bus on a tuk-tuk. Following our usual routine, we flagged down a tuk-tuk on the road, and Volchy bargained him down to 50 rupees. It was only 7:10, and the man at the ticket window refused to sell us tickets so early, saying to come back 15 minutes before the bus departure. The bus was leaving at 8. We wandered around the bus station, back and forth. Had a small cup of tea. Bought some biscuits. Around 7:40 we tried to buy tickets again, and this time it worked. Two tickets cost 274 rupees. Our little bus was already there, and just to be safe we asked the driver whether he was going to Ranakpur, then climbed aboard. The bus turned out to be comfortable, with soft, convenient seats, though it looked quite intimidating from the outside.
The first hour of the ride was cold; for some reason the driver was driving with the door open.
Then he finally closed it, and it got warmer. When the sun came out, it became really warm.
Soon we even got onto a toll road; it turns out India also has something like highways. At the entrance, just like in Europe, there was a barrier and glass booths with toll collectors.
Then we turned onto a dusty country road.
It felt as if we had gone back 10 years, to when we used to travel around Ukraine by bus. The landscape outside the window was almost Ukrainian in places.
It was good and peaceful. Various Indians got on and off the bus: men with beautiful red turbans on their heads, girls wrapped in transparent colorful shawls, an old woman with a round nose ring who hid her money in a knot made from her shawl.
It seemed as if I had become part of this world; there was a sense of serenity and joy.
Just unmotivated joy, not from anything specific, but simply the kind of joy you feel when it is good just because you exist, Volchy is рядом, the sun is shining, and you are riding in an Indian bus, and all of it seems half fairy tale, half reality.
The bus stopped at the entrance to the temple. Right at the entrance I saw a sign for the dining hall. We decided to go and check out what kind of place it was — a dining hall in a temple. At the entrance to the dining hall we took off our shoes and bought two tickets for 50 rupees per person for unlimited food. The staff showed us where to sit — on a bench at a long table. They served food into a flat metal bowl — rice, flatbreads, fried cabbage — and into smaller bowls they poured sauce and lentil gravy. The small fried flatbreads were very tasty, like empty chebureki. So I didn’t touch the rice at all and just kept eating the flatbreads, one after another, while the men kept bringing more food and adding more. I also liked the cabbage. Volchy ate the rice for both of us, it seems we were seized by a huge appetite in this wonderful canteen. While we were eating, a man came up to us and, as usual, asked where we were from. We said from Ukraine.
He was very happy and said, “Can I ask you for help? I need to translate some text.” Well, we agreed, and he promised to wait for us at the exit.
After eating our fill, we happily left the dining hall, and there the man was waiting for us.
He led us to a bench by a table and brought a backpack stuffed with all sorts of notebooks.
It turned out his name was Mr. Chohan, and he was involved in meditation, yoga, and Ayurveda. And in the notebooks there were handwritten notes of gratitude from different people from all over the world — from Canada, Europe, Russia, and Ukraine. Mr. Chohan wanted us to translate some Russian texts into English for him, and also help choose the main points in these texts so that he could later publish them on his website.
Reading the comments from different people, it was hard to believe that such an amazing person was standing in front of me. Everyone wrote that when they came to India they searched for a good teacher for a long time, and only Mr. Chohan was able to help. He first conducts a consultation, during which he learns about your problems, both physical and emotional. Everyone wrote that Mr. Chohan figures out your illnesses himself, without hints. Then he offers therapy and individual yoga with meditation. Many wrote that those couple of days spent with Mr. Chohan dramatically improved their lives.
They also wrote that Mr. Chohan opens and cleanses chakras.
Whatever you say, it sounds tempting — after all, you do want to feel better and healthier.
Mr. Chohan himself admitted that he charges money for his services. It costs 50 euros, though I never quite understood what exactly for — just the consultation or everything together. He started charging after he decided to open his ashram near Ranakpur.
He kept inviting us to visit his ashram, saying that my opinion was very important to him and maybe I could suggest something. I didn’t really want to go to the ashram. Somehow I wasn’t very ready for such a meeting.
Although I did enjoy talking with Mr. Chohan.
We spent a couple of hours with him; he invited us to his ashram many times, promised to teach us how to make chapati and feed us dinner for free.
But like when talking to any Indian man, I couldn’t fully trust this person, even though I saw a lot of truly positive comments, and Mr. Chohan himself made a very pleasant impression.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was trying to sell me something. And quite successfully, because I already wanted to go to his consultation J
In the end he said that tomorrow he was going to Udaipur, and we were also planning to go to Udaipur in the morning, so we agreed to ride together in his car. We arranged to meet in the morning at the same place…
