Haridwar is an attractive town, in that it has all the hustle and bustle that is expected of India, but full of gentle folk from the shop keeper to the subzi wallah to those that run the tin shack dhabbas. The only ones to be wary of are the pundits around the Hari Ki Pairi temple and ghat on the banks of the Ganges.
The Ganga is revered as a goddess in her own right, hence why puja and offering are made by way of pundits and aarti all along it's banks, prayers are said, tikki smudges dabbed on forheads, red yarn wrapped around wrists, prassad (a food offering) eaten, and flowers and candles placed in leaf baskets then dropped into the flowing river. If youmanage to find a sincere pundit then the experience can peaceful and up lifting. My pundit, however, needed a lesson in economics , raising the 'donation' for a 5 Braman prayer from 50Rs to 500Rs. Thanmkfully Ganesha or Durga gave me the strength not to succumb, and 50Rs was accepted. He must have felt short changed though, as I never got my flowers and candles to drop in the water!
While here my traveling companion and I made got chatting and made friends with a 12yr old boy called Sriprakash, who had left his village 2 years ago to earn a living. He works helping a small sweetshop and chai wallah stall, and hope that when he is married he will have is own stall and cook food. He had the broadest of smiles that is enough to shame anybody, including me, who thinks they are down on their uppers. While he might not be at school, he can read and write Hindi, write his own name in English and is learning skills on the job that may just earn him a living wage once 'grown up'. By all opbswervations, from the way styish way he wore his blanket to the way he dealt with customers and that fact that he apparently thinks nothing of hoping on a train for two days to see his family, Sriprakash is already grown up. Amazing and sad all at once.
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