in the hotel 3am

morning at the lakshmi, the air moist as a rain soaked camels hump and just as odorous. The night sky filled with water vapor and smoke and dust, thousands of beggars and working class people sleeping on the streets and in thatched roof hovels in a small town surrounding the holy mount arunachala, the famous mountain of shiva,the destroyer of falsehood, which is a good trick since its all a bunch of bullshit everywhere you go. cheaters, dealers, wheeled mercenaries, idolaters and fakirs plying the western tourists come to find some version of the same god they have at home but more dressed down and personable. or maybe just easier to meet here since this is where gods and men mingle on the streets to see what deals they can make. here men have become gods and passed beyond the liberated borders of the damned and miserable. a fine catch for a german seeker or a jewish wanderer. all souls come to god or some version thereof. the legal language escapes me but its some kind of carpe diem or e pluribus unum nonsense that drives bodies halfway around the world to be told either they're full of shit or else its exactly what their looking for and either way they stay for more and keep coming back. business is booming like never before and the beggars are having trouble picking their marks.people from the west come dressed in the simple whites and robes and ochers of the sanyasis and malis and just crazed dreadlocked mountain worshipers that cant tear loose of the shiva juice thats like diamond dust in the air here. Everyone seems to know or worship the Ramana maharishi who's ashram and temple sit in the center of this seekers paradise, early morning chanters congregate in the cool and dusty temple and meditation halls surrounding the ancient well site and hundreds of barefoot white faces wander the acres of historic huts and mud walled rooms and stables around the 19th century home of the man who made who am i? a religion. of course he didnt stop there, he had to embellish it a lot to keep the starry eyed coming back, since no one knows who they are unless they're totally insane which most of these folks must be to be scratching mosquito  bites and applying 200 spf sunblock all day while avoiding muddy cow pies everywhere you walk. But the Maharshi is not alone here, this is a holy mans paradisio, complete with the fakirs and crazy men wandering the streets and rail thin beggars of every description lacking most of the teeth but none of the chutzpah of a new york cabbie hunting a fare downtown.the shops are an eclectic pastiche of homemade bags and soapstone idols, metal work and cheap beads and notion, many small groceries with a blend of swap meet and 7-11 mentalities and yes everyone is wagging thei heads with the unmistakable logic that nothing is where it should be, but it must be here somewhere. and thats the catch for the spiritual shopper here, everyones got a guru or three and a couple of auruyvedic doctors and hospitable ashram rooms where their particular poison is dispensed on a regular basis, and they are all just shopping and eating at the many watering and feeding holes that cater to these non conformists and oddballs that collect in these bywaters and offshoots of the spiritual path. all the worlds full of these places and this one has many of the amentities that folks want. this hotel for instance, filtered water, a must, miniaturized furniture with a full kitchen and blessed airconditioning, more for the dry air than the cold, but both an almost orgasmic event after a day on the muggy sweltering dirt roads and stuffy bug filled temples that line the roads around the holy hill of thiruvannamali. the few decent cafes around serve black coffee and toast, eggs and omelets and an assortment of western vegetarian and south indian foods. The waters not safe to drink and some of the bathroom facilities lack the amenities of toilets or paper, the means of which to accomplish the task that bathrooms are made for is the subject of many a dinner and espresso conversation. Theres little to remind one of home here, except the people, who as a whole are pleasant, even natured and busy at their work or profession or trades as are people everywhere, but its the higher percentage of obviously spirit minded poverties and socially acceptable street dwellers that you notice more. the traffic bustles like a mad antpile around and between and through hordes of uncaring and quite lovely people going about their everyday business in the streets and dirt sidewalks of the town. It a good place to be if you want to see some of the old and new india in the midst of the upheaval and groaning expansion of no class to some semblance of lower to middle class living where none existed before. the explosion of personal autos being the most noticed especially as people who have never driven all their lives take to the maddened streets of taxis motorcycles  trucks and buses all ignoring any rules of the western roads and become the new kids trying to drive around the blocks and experience economic freedom just as the westerners come to find their own freedom in the burning heart of india. i talk a good story but im not just here for the aruyevedic cures and the holy water either, theres a particular guru in town that has wreaked his personal style of spiritual mania on many of my family and very closest friends, and has a small ashram business on the outskirts of town where im looking at rental properties to cut my expenses while im taking the cure, this dumpy hotel definitely eating into my limited resources.this particular avatar or incarnation or just plain huckster with a big dish of spiritual knowledge, seems to carry a force ive seen only in comic books. No to overplay it, but he plays with the pros and deals out massive shakti and jianni experiences to his few followers who seem to suffer as much as they swoon around him. I try to keep my distance, but he keeps ending up right in front of me one way or another. one minute with him and all my karmas start popping like jiffy pop and i feel like the aluminfoils about to burst. its a love love hate thing, where he ran off with my girl and sent me back the mother and im unable to extract myself from her not unlovely embraces. its like being in love with the virgin mother, shes the greatest but your stuck with some kind of childlike crush and unfathomable attraction while being unable to say no, ever. its too cool and fun and amazing but not like anything elsei've seen. she is the one and i know theres a few million just like me waiting to meet her. the day is trying to get started and i'm going to go out for a predawn walk to see what the world looks like at 4:30am here.