Bodhgaya, Bihar, a small holy place in India. It was here that Gautama Buddha achieved enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. The place is a pilgrimage location for Buddhists from all around the world and different countries have created Buddhist temples in styles of their home country.
The town itself is small. Walking the length takes not very long. It is beside the expansive Neranjana River, currently a sandy river bed. During the wet season it must be impressive but currently a commodity. Its' function now a sand mine with tractors filled and empty navigating sandy tracks. Along the bank where the town is situated, the rubbish piles have created detritus tributaries and pockmark remnants of burnt rubbish heaps are evident. Tracks traverse the river bed, foot and animal traffic, to the other side and of course it is a perfect toilet. Walkers, carrying bottles or small metal containers, disappear behind small sand piles, only the head remains as business happens.
Along both banks there is a line of trees and palms through which accommodation houses are visible. Further downstream, a road bridge, that must go under during flood. The pigs and goats forage through the rubbish and languish in the warming sun. Systems of cleanliness allow for all to benefit. The rubbish pickers, with huge bags filled with plastic, paper and fabric gather around the heaps. They get first choice.
A Hindu temple, intense bright pink with deeper pink trim, is located at the end of the main bazaar. It has a powerful sound system transmitting midday worshippers at prayer. Melodic yet distorted, if this particular deity was not awakened by the chanting, deafness must have overtaken. To end, the bells ring continuously until silence again prevails and the sound of horns returns as the dominant annoyance. From within the confines of pink erupts a stream of colour, as sari clad women disperse in differing directions.
Outside the temple there is a water tank with one pipe continuously spilling. The platform beneath acts as the public washing and bathing area. Body and clothes are dealt with at the same time and then spread out on tree branches or sand to dry while their owners absorb the sun, obviously in no hurry. One of the trails across the river bed leads here and a group of four young men arrive for their bath. Once stripped to underwear they climb under the pipe, thoroughly wetting before soaping, turning frothy white, whilst another is soaked before washing off and attending the clothing.
Wafting in the air is the sweetness of incense. The air is dry and the day warm. There is still a translucent quality in the distance of airborn dust that covers everything. A breeze is evident along the riverbed as paper rises in the air and is held aloft, like a kite, gaining altitude. It looks like a bird of prey riding the thermals, yet the is no evidence of any bird life, not even amongst the trees.
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