Vashisht Hot Spring of Himachal Pradesh

We arrived in Vashisht straight from Paharganj, New Delhi where I had managed to pick up the most horrendous Delhi belly from a street side Dhaba and by street side I literally mean stepping over open sewage. I knew as soon as I got on the coach to Manali that I was in trouble. I don’t know how I managed to hold it all in and keep it all together, I was sweating like a crazy person. Maybe it was my innate English suppression and ability to pretend all is well that helped but by the time I arrived it was real bad.

We eventually found a guest house after several more party like locations were rejected. We were pretty near to the main square and a short walk to the hot springs and a local restaurant. Both would become very familiar to me, like home would be if you chose it.

Vashist itself is a 4,000 years old Historic village built around the Vashisht Temple over the river from Manali. It is said that Beas Kund in Manali is the origin point of the mighty Beas River. Vashisht Manali is dedicated to the great sage Vashisht and Vashisht Kund is the Hot Springs situated there. There is also an ancient stone temple of Lord Rama adjacent to the Vashisht temple.

Vashisht is an important Hindu Pilgrimage center. The hot springs of the village is believed to have been created by Lakshman, the younger brother of Lord Ram. The creation of the spring is associated with the belief that since Lakshman, did not want the sage Vashisht to have to walk too far for a bath; he shot an arrow into the ground, and the hot springs emerged.

Whilst the sickness took hold I ventured out very little, I was already quite small from the extensive yoga training I’d practiced over the prior 4 years so losing pounds had began to make me appear quite frail, thank goodness for all the stored up praana that kept me out of hospital during those weeks.

So it wasn’t until we were well into our third week there that I felt I would muster up the strength and go ot the Springs. I have to say my awkwardness made queuing both a Crutch on which to hang my politeness and obvious nerves and also a total hindrance to me actually getting any closer to bathing. The locals meanwhile just busily getting in there and getting on with it. For them it’s their local hang-out where all the women get to relax, wash and generally chit chat before they get on with their day so tourists aren’t frowned upon they’re just kinda bypassed.

I guess I need to give you some context as to my mental state before I take you any deeper into this short tale.

You see I’d come India to heal from a familial situation. I’d been teaching constantly for two years but during that time I had being going through a custody battle, not directly but indirectly as I hadn’t wanted a battle at all. I had reached a point where there was such control and toxicity around contact that I felt completely broken, Bizarrely to me my own meditation and yoga classes were doing really well considering how long I had been a teacher and, I was surrounded by such abundance of love and affection that the contrast of my personal life had become too much for me to reconcile inwardly at that time. I was emotionally exhausted.

This coupled with the relationship with my own Mother, let’s just say I was ripe for some deep mystical Mother India intervention.

I wasn’t too comfortable being naked so I kept my undies on and headed into the channel that ran next to the bath. Along the channel sat around 12 women with pipes in front of them pumping out the purified hot water. All generations of families huddle together, washing away , washing each other. Cousins, aunts, mothers, grandmothers all there without a care in the world. And, there was I, cumbersome over thinking it all and kind wishing I could get it over and done with but at the same time, just staring in wonderment at the intimacy and affection I was seeing between these women.

Getting over myself a little I was about to wash my own hair when the young lady next to me started washing my back. I recognised immediately that this was a moment of inclusion so despite everything inside me reacting in a very british non touchy feely way I smiled and let her carry on.

It was almost immediately that a very visceral and familiar burning sensation began to ignite in my throat and a pain began to well in my chest, as I looked into those kind, compassionate and slightly cheeky eyes of my washer. I was like oh shit, saying to myself over and over ‘don’t fucking cry’, ‘don’t fucking cry’.

I cried.

I cried and smiled and cried some more but I realised that I was there to participate not just get a free wash! So I got out my shampoo, conditioner and shower gel and started passing them around, I started washing the girl on my other side and slowly I began to embrace this lathering soulful female bonding session, free from sexuality and weirdness, total body acceptance, joy and everyday lucid living of the female aspect of the divine.

I hope to never forget that day and those huge hearted women.

This is dedicated to the awe inspiring human devis of the Vashisht Hot Spring.

Love

The attached Image is of a young girl I met there. Taken with permission. See what I mean? Awe inspiring!