As soon as I saw Siddharta standing on my doorstep with his tan suitcase by his side, I knew that I needed to take him somewhere quickly to recuperate from his traumatic 18 hour flight from Mumbai, India to the United States. There was no doubt that he was tired. He looked haggard.
“Namaste,” he said as he bowed his head forward toward me. Greetings from my soul to your soul. I will be to you what Vasuveda was to me. I will listen to you, and you will listen to me.
“Namaste,” I replied with a smile on face. I picked up my suitcase and asked him to come inside.
“Dhanyivad,” he said thanking me in Hindi. This boy is respectful of others.
I tilted my head from side to side in the cultural Indian way I had learned that indicated that everything was good. We went in and headed for the dining room where an American meal I had prepared was waiting for him. He washed up and joined me there. I had grilled burgers and there were fries and a coke. He looked at his burger but didn’t touch it. He devoured the oily fries saying he was sorry that he could not eat the burger as he did not eat beef. I felt like I should have known this and offered to get him something else. He said that he was tired and would like to go rest in his room.
The next day we took a train to Niagara Falls. I knew that Siddharta needed to go to a place where the presence of nature would overawe his senses and quiet his will. Niagara Falls with its vast waterfalls and thunderous sounds made by the gushing water would be the perfect place. Standing at the edge of the cliff and looking over at water so plentiful that it could not be stopped from its natural journey down the fall, I knew Siddharta would view the scene with absolute wonder and amazement at the beauty and force of mother nature. He probably had never seen as much water in his entire life. The force of the water was so strong that it was used to provide electricity. I too stood there trying to absorb the sight of the waterfalls cascading onto the huge black rocks that were polished to a gleam by the force of the water. The mist surrounded us, and I felt as if I was being sprayed by the water even though we were a good distance away. There was a yellow boat in the river called The Maid of the Mist taking daring tourists as close to the falls as possible. I looked at Siddharta who seemed very content.
“America, good country. Very beautiful.” he said smiling as he gazed across at the falls. In truth the name of the Brahman is satya. Indeed , he who knows it enters the heavenly world each day…but never had he quite reached it, never had he quenched the final thirst. (8) Water this plentiful, in all its splendor must be able to quench my eternal thirst. If only I could take a sip of this water, maybe then I can enter the heavenly world.
“This is a very beautiful part of America.” I said.
The river’s voice spoke to him. He learned from it, it educated and taught him. The river seemed like a god to him(146) This water like the river can give me the answers.
“I was born on the other side,” I said. “Like you, I also traveled to America.”
Your soul is the whole world. (7) Like me my friend you are making your own pilgrimage. Coming here and bringing me with you, you will be able to connect with Atman.
I thought I would take Siddharta back to Boston where he could experience one of my favorite experiences before catching his plane home from Logan Airport. I knew that no place would be better than a Boston Celtics vs. Miami Heat game at TD Garden.
“ Are we going to a park?” asked Sidharta when I told him where we were going.
“ It’s called TD Garden, but it isn’t a garden,” I said. “ It’s where the Boston Celtics play basketball.” As we stood in line with the tickets that I had pre-purchased online, Siddharta looked around at the state- of- the- art sports arena. We walked up six flights of stairs to our seats. Siddharta watched excited fans fill the 19,600 seats. “Have you ever seen so many people at one event?” I asked hoping that he was as impressed by the place as I was.
Siddharta tossed his back and laughed hard. “Have you forgotten that I live in Mumbai, India, one of the most densely populated places on Earth?!” He saw people living in a childish or animal-like way, which he both loved and despised. (70)
“ In America, we like to gather together to support our teams, and we feel a really good sense of community doing it together.” I said. “ It revives our soul. We feel happy coming here as fans cheering on our favorite team. You could say we worship them as Gods,” I said jokingly. Siddharta shook his head and probably thought these are crazy Americans.
“Tell me why you like being here”, he asked noticing my happiness.
“I just love the Celtics! They’re the best team ever!” Music was playing and fans were standing up and dancing in hopes that the tv cameras would capture them on the wide screen televisions hanging from the rafters.
“Your love for the Celtics is like our love for cricket.”
Crickets? I thought. How could he compare the great game of basketball to a stupid insect.
“ Cricket is a game were we bat the ball to the post ahead, and then the players run back and forth.”
“Oh, that sounds like baseball.”
Music blasted from speakers seemingly coming from all angles. I saw Siddharta rocking himself to the beat. He looked all around and said, “ Americans love big spaces.”
“ It is huge,” I agreed. I think it is like ten stories high and something like 5oo feet long and 3oo feet wide.”
“ I still can’t understand how you Americans can waste so much space for a sport when the land could be put to better use.”
I figured that this had to be some sort of culture shock for him. It wasn’t a waste of space. It was a great use of space! I hoped that once the game started he would share in the thrill and excitement that we all felt being there. “I hope the noise isn’t bothering you?” I asked.
“It isn’t. I’m used to so much noise pollution that I can just block it out like a hum in the background.” We leaned back in our seats and enjoyed the game along with the buttery taste of our popcorn. Siddharta watched as Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen and Rondo dribbled the ball down the court to make a basket as the fans shot out of their seats shouting for joy.
“Certainly I have traveled for my pleasure.” (68) “Why not? I have become acquainted with people and new districts.” (68)
After Siddharta’s plane took off, I wondered which experience he enjoyed more- going to Niagara Falls or watching the game at TD Garden? After reflecting on the sense of peace he must have felt at such a spectacular sight at Niagara Falls, I figured he would have enjoyed watching the basketball game a lot more. The reason for this I felt, was that he was used to meditating and being in touch with his soul, and that doing so at Niagara Falls wasn’t all that different from what he did back home.
The basketball game however was something different. Remembering how talkative he was at the game, and how willing he was to compare and contrast how his life was similar to or different from life in America made me feel that being at the game made him really think. He didn’t just take the scene in and forget about it. He really thought about how Americans and Indians had a similar love of sports. He compared how Americans love space and use it freely compared to Indians who probably had to deal with limited amount of space, so they had to use it wisely. They probably didn’t eat food at their games. I think he enjoyed the experience also because he noticed how much I loved being there and how I really wanted to share that experience with him. I’m quite sure that made a bigger impression on him, and probably added to make the experience more valuable to him.
