We drank a companionable cup of chai together

The hotel had 28 rooms and we were the only guests – Pushkar only comes really alive during the camel fair in the Autumn. There are always plenty of Brahma devotees but they stay in cheaper/dormitory style places and the hippies find long term accommodation in the back streets – there are plenty of ashrams where people do yoga and meditation courses too.

I got up before sunrise to see if I could taste the atmosphere of the place – the streets were being cleaned by the sweeper women. All the brightly lit and colourful touristy shops of yesterday were still shuttered and only a few chai stalls and food barrow traders were waiting for business. I found my way down to the nearly deserted ghats round the lake and immediately found myself invited to sit and take chai with an ash covered sadhu who was coughing so badly I thought he would be sick. He had a small shelter and a man who sat with him who explained that he hadn't spoken for 12 years. There was a small fire with iron ring to hold the pan above the flame and disposable plastic cups for visitors – I left a small donation and was allowed to take a photo.

The sun rose as I walked around and more people appeared to wash in the waters or just to visit and pray. I was very discrete about taking shots and watched the cows, dogs, pigeons taking advantage of all the food that was being handed out to them by devotees. Apparently all the temples and other places of worship hand out free food to all comers every day too. A cow insisted on following me around in rather an alarmingly aggressive way and I slipped into a side room and found myself face to face with Swami-ji, a little fellow with curly tangled hair and twinkly eyes. We sat for half an hour in the rising sun discussing this and that. He had special meditation threads around his neck and earrings that had been given to him after 25 years of devotional study but he had two degrees, never married and had been in Pushkar for 40 years. Yoga, pipe and meditation are his daily occupations and I suspect he spends quite a lot of time talking with people too. His family from Gujarat occasionally arrive on pilgrimage to visit him.

On the way back to the hotel I fell in with two more sadhus whom I suspected were on the look out for a free chai – they got it – and then found Yussef for breakfast. We then set off round the gypsy areas and then over the pass through the surrounding hills to Ajmer which is a pilgrimage place for Islamists. There was an even bigger lake there which had pelicans floating in the center and round the edges lots of sadhus sunning themselves and chatting. There were trees of fruit bats and the streets were full of pony tongas with a blacksmith crouching on the ground beside one nailing on a shoe. One pony had his white socks hennaed brightly, another had a twitch on his nose while some sort of operation was being performed on his side – not a nice sight. Just standing still on a busy street I could have captured a thousand different shots as the world passed by but my time with Yussef was up – he dropped me at the bus station where we said our farewells - he had to go back to Udaipur and I to Jaipur. He has been such a safe driver, hugely interesting guide and a great companion – I shall miss his quiet presence, alert eyes and gentle observations on life from his background of ingrained but unobtrusive faith.

Hennaed socks and sadhus here

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