Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
Rishikesh is a small town in the northern India. Geographically, it is the point where the Ganges River leaves the forested peaks of the Himalayas Mountains and enters the plains of Northern India. Yoga practitioners and spiritual devotees of every nationality flock to this northern Indian town which now bills itself as “the yoga capital.” The Beatles set off the flow of Western spiritual seekers after their stay in an ashram here in the 60s.
Rishikesh brims with ashrams, temples, yoga schools and mixing New Age trappings such as healing crystals and Ayurvedic medicine. The city itself has nothing special: it’s a typical Indian conglomeration of low buildings, cramped booths, narrow streets full of dust and trash where rickshaws, scooters, bikes, cows, beggars, monks and pilgrims circulate like the ants in an indescribable anthill.
On the sand on the left bank of the Ganges, a few hundred meters upstream from the bridge of Ram Jhula lies the huts of recluses. Near of ashrams, the number of beggars increases exponentially. Men of all ages sit from dawn until dusk in the shade of the walls near the water’s edge. They sleep in the open air and what they wear is all that they have. Their misery still has a certain hint of solemnity.
As a place of pilgrimage for Hindus of everywhere, the Rishikesh spiritual site has been converted more and more to the new religion of money. The “ashrams” compete to attract tourists, offering yoga classes that promise the salvation in only a few weeks. The restaurants, hotels and souvenir shops have multiplied. The magic of old times almost disappeared, making room for imitation and stifling bazaar atmosphere. And this mess continues.
Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
Rishikesh is a small town in the northern India. Geographically, it is the point where the Ganges River leaves the forested peaks of the Himalayas Mountains and enters the plains of Northern India. Yoga practitioners and spiritual devotees of every nationality flock to this northern Indian town which now bills itself as “the yoga capital.” The Beatles set off the flow of Western spiritual seekers after their stay in an ashram here in the 60s.
Rishikesh brims with ashrams, temples, yoga schools and mixing New Age trappings such as healing crystals and Ayurvedic medicine. The city itself has nothing special: it’s a typical Indian conglomeration of low buildings, cramped booths, narrow streets full of dust and trash where rickshaws, scooters, bikes, cows, beggars, monks and pilgrims circulate like the ants in an indescribable anthill.
On the sand on the left bank of the Ganges, a few hundred meters upstream from the bridge of Ram Jhula lies the huts of recluses. Near of ashrams, the number of beggars increases exponentially. Men of all ages sit from dawn until dusk in the shade of the walls near the water’s edge. They sleep in the open air and what they wear is all that they have. Their misery still has a certain hint of solemnity.
As a place of pilgrimage for Hindus of everywhere, the Rishikesh spiritual site has been converted more and more to the new religion of money. The “ashrams” compete to attract tourists, offering yoga classes that promise the salvation in only a few weeks. The restaurants, hotels and souvenir shops have multiplied. The magic of old times almost disappeared, making room for imitation and stifling bazaar atmosphere. And this mess continues.
