Ganesh

Rahul and I agreed to meet at 5:00, row as far as Asi Ghat, then pivot and make the return while watching the sun rise on our starboard side.

I told Rahul I’d text just as I was leaving the Anand Kanan. I did and arrived at the appointed time.

No Rahul. I texted again. He called immediately. There’d been a miscommunication. He thought I’d text before bed. As I hadn’t, he slept in.

But Rahul’s resourceful, and within a minute had on the line Ganesh, his friend and mentor. Ganesh was available and would be ready in the time it took me to reach him.

And there he was, doing what a boatman does,

preparing his craft fore

and aft.

Ganesh isn’t tall in stature. Five feet in heels, at best. But I learned in the time it took to cast off,

that he’s formidable.

Ganesh, in Hindu mythology, is the God of New Beginnings. It seems appropriate.

Soon, Munshi was a distant past,

and Asi reachable by 6:00.

As I watched him stroke with the ease of an Olympian,

I felt guilty for the price I’d bargained for. A mere 1,000 rupees. I’d paid that much for the tuk-tuk and rickshaw the day before. With a handsome tip.

But then I witnessed what Rahul had learned through observation and tutelage, resourcefulness.

A friend pulled up port side,

and Ganesh hitched a ride.

I was so pleased for him.

Regrettably, the friend peeled off soon after and we were on our own again.

Not to worry, another arrived,

and we were on.

Short lived, the oars came out in full force,

and like the best of sprinters, we reached Asi Ghat with time to spare.

Not one to rest on his laurels, Ganesh pivoted on a dime,

just as heaven arrived.

The current now our best friend, we paused to savor the moment,

drifting with the sun’s rise.

Sooner than I liked, we approached Munshi Ghat and Ganesh took over, displaying the skills

that has made him the legend of the Ganga.

I was sad at the parting,

yet hopeful that someday I’d again ply the waters of the Ganga,

with the God of New Beginnings.