The Buddha's Not Here

Varanasi: another speechless city.
Full of noise and dust and burning and chanting but the river is there, speechless and gently flowing, unusually turning in on it self just north of here.
We left our comfortable nook at one end of the city, Assi Ghat, and went to the last ghat at the other end Raj Ghat. This is where the Rajghat School and Vasanta College for Women, founded by J. Krishnamurti, in addition to the Krishnamurti Study Centre, are located. It is situated above the banks looking dwon over the river, the paths and buildings winding through a kind of forest we've not seen here yet. Banyan, neem, amla, acacia, and pipal trees abound. Flowers and butterflies are everywhere. Smells of honeysuckle and gardenia! And the early morning light caressing everything with gold. We felt we were in a very different place, a different realm. Food was still a hot topic speaking with some staff and guests at the Centre.
We had time to read and reflect and walk. The walks were the best part I think, as you can imagine. After all the exhaust (the machines, the vehicles, and of our bodies) it was welcome green, welcome rest.

Today, we visited Sarnath.
This is the place where the Buddha--after deciding to teach what he had seen under the Pipal tree many kilometres away from here (in Bodhgaya where we go next, tomorrow) --gave his first teaching, gave that first wonderous spin to the wheel of eternal law. The stupa (a religious honorary monument) erected there is large, impressive, old. A group of Burmese monks, nuns, and laypeople chanted towards the spot, burning candles and incense. We walked in the heat. Tons of tourists. We looked at the ruins of the place. We sat in the cool shade of the stupa, on the cool stone. I closed my eyes and tried to picture the Buddha there, walking around, sitting, chatting with his disciples, sitting up on a platform and sharing his teaching--patiently, sincerely, carefully...I couldn't do it.
We were tired. The sun got us again. We loved the trees of the park.
We returned to the Centre for a great lunch and to say goodbye to that forest and those flowers and that wide strangely still-yet-flowing river.

Mary said it perfectly before we left:
"The Buddha's not here anymore."