Yogi Toast Anyone?

This morning I left Seventh Heaven before dawn and had to step over staff sleeping in the doorway and find the key to the door to get out to the street, which was even quieter than the morning before. I headed for a prominent hill with  a temple on top, intending to be there for sun rise but I was still only half way up by then, and already drenched in perspiration. Nevertheless it was a good walk and a very steep climb that would have been hell at any other time of the day,  but great views from the top. The temple was pretty wretched.

 On the way up I passed a miserable looking fellow scratching out a tune and singing - more screeching than singing really - for his supper. I had ignored him on the way up but coming back I stopped for  a chat and a turn on the instrument and a photo. Further down there was another and then a third, and the quality of music and singing improved with each one till the last  which included three tiny tots all dressed up with turbans and dancing as well. But by then I had given out all my spare cash so didn't feel bold enough to take a photo especially with the parents waiting expectantly for my cash. The kids all begged for "chapati, chapati" and Ive since discovered what  they wanted was for me to buy a box of the powder they make them from.

Its quite incredible to think that these people are not doing this for fun but for survival, and I guess they must make only a few rupees a day - these are the actual people who you read about in United Nations  statistics who survive on less than $US1 per day - thats about 50 rupees I think. One couple in the main bazaar who seemed to be doing rather better were dressed in fearsome multicoloured costumes with bells and the woman beat a drum while the guy leaped all over the place like a demented gymnast and periodically lashed himself with an enormous tapering  red whip. The whip flashed round his body two or three times with a mighty crack and the tip ended up bruising and drawing blood from his upper left arm, around which a bloody tourniquet was wrapped. He was quite an intimidating sight as he thrust himself into the personal space of every person on the street and every shopkeeper, and hardly anyone didnt add to a two inch stack of notes he brandished in his other hand. These guys  (below) are I think whats known as a Sadhu, a monk like character who has renounced worldly things and relies on the Gods to sustain him. In effect they are like beggars but have adopted the moral high ground and maybe as a result their pleas for cash are harder to resist. They are certainly colourful characters.

I bought a loose green shirt and some black trousers for $10 on my way back to the Hotel.. I'm hoping they'll be cooler to wear round than my usual shorts and shirts. I also bought a book called "Eat Pray Love" - on the cover it said it was about a woman going to India after a messy divorce- sounded vaguely familiar- so I thought it might be an interesting read "over 6 million copies sold" And now made into a Major Motion Picture!. So far shes got as far as Italy and I haven't been impressed - she sounds like the sort of woman that would be in the audience of the Oprah Winfrey Show - but maybe something will happen in India.It really is a place full of surprises:

WTF is that supposed to be?