Although we're not strictly pilgrims, I felt close to the Punjabi pilgrims we met who came to worship at the confluence of the Ganga with the sea near Kolkata. They were on their way home, our guide said, having bathed in the sea before surise yesterday. We passed them at lunch time. They were sitting on a big sheet on the road between two parked busses eating their rice and bature. In the windows of the busses, I glimpsed their clothes hanging up to dry; their watter bottles prickled out of the overhead luggage bins like porcupine quills. On top of the busses, their straw mats were rolled up between big recycled bags of belongings. One traveller was adjusting the little camp stove back in between the bundles. Towels were draped over people's heads.
We are not strictly pilgrims, but in some ways we compare with them, homeless for a while, accomplishing something meaningful, at significant cost.
Cheerfully!
