Mandi

I’m sitting in a well-priced hotel room, listening to the chaotic din of clanging bells pouring out from the adjacent temple. This city is alive with revelry. I see enthusiastic celebrations of the polytheistic tradition everywhere I look. I arrived in town amidst a downpour that started the morning I left the hilltop hotel where I’d stayed the night before. There on that hill I committed sin. I wasn’t in my right mind, and after saying bye to the owner who I still held a grudge against for putting me in a room that didn’t have a bathroom, I consciously did not remind him I still owed 800 rupees for the night. Yes, I know. I cycled down the hill to Mandi with full awareness that I had thieved and deceived. The rain poured on me and I laughed about it. Whatever. What’s 800 rupees? Ah, but the man was nice to me, damnit. He was a sweet old man. It’s not like he put me in that room to spite me, it was all he had left. What have I done? It’s okay. He forgot. It’s on him. He’s running the business after all, not me. But I knew. I remembered. Or maybe I did pay him and I just forgot? Is that possible? It couldn’t be. I never forget a transaction. It’s not in my nature. Ah, so what? My karma balance should still be in the green. I’ve not killed or harmed. Just 800 rupees. And he has my phone number. He can call me if there’s an issue. Surely, surely. It’s all okay. I put it out of my mind and enjoyed the wet sketchy downhill to Mandi town. It was with relief and pleasure that I landed on my hotel. The owner was kind and game to bring down the price. I installed myself in the cozy room and laid my things out to dry. I set out to explore Mandi and was happy to be the only tourist. Finally, an authentic city. Although I was still sick in the stomach, I became increasingly bold with my food choices and would just rush back to the hotel when I was in trouble. For the first time I enjoyed a little bit of Netflix to really relax and decompress. So in Mandi I fell into a pleasant little routine of exploring the town, finding grub, and bringing home sweets to watch whatever TV show I was obsessed with. I stayed in Mandi for three days, taking my time resting and recovering from illness and the road. I talked to my family and some of my friends. I still hadn’t decided where to go. I did research. Rishikesh or Dharamshala? Which would it be? I decided I should probably find an actual spiritual center that attracted me and apply to it so that I wouldn’t arrive in either location without a plan. Rishikesh had too much going on and it overwhelmed me. I sent an email to an ashram and they never replied, same with several others. After some research on Dharamshala I learned it was the home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile. There was a highly renowned buddhist center called Tushita that offered an Intro to Buddhism. Without thinking too much on it, I made the application and paid the deposit. I was going to go to Dharamshala then. So be it. This would mean that I’d revert to plan 1 of cycling all the way to South India, instead of Plan B/Plan Adam going East to Meghalaya. I’m excited for the road ahead. What will Dharmashala bring to my life? Will this buddhist retreat teach me something new about life and how to best live it? Or will it be a humorous disappointment like so much in life?