Chapter 2 Chapter 1 First Arrival in Derry

The plane takes off from Shanghai.After fastening my seat belt, I opened Huashiyana's (Kama Sutra) and started reading. Every time I encounter a turbulence during a flight, I can't help but think: Is this the end, my short life that has not really begun but has been thorny every step of the way?After my death, the suicide notes of all the victims will be found in the black box.Who will read my last words then?Who cares about my life and death, and shed tears for me? Don't dare to think deeply, because if you think deeply, you will feel hopeless.Therefore, I always carry a book with me every time I fly, and I withdraw myself from the world at the moment of take-off, letting my soul fly in the sky of words, and have no time to pay attention to life and death.

This time, I brought the Indian (Kama Sutra), a sex textbook written by a yogi more than 2,000 years ago for women.According to the book, a lady must learn 64 important arts and sciences if she wants to be respected by society, including: singing, dancing, painting on walls, palm leaves and smooth stones, turning birch leaves Write love letters in the shape of letters, carve patterns in flowers and rice grains, decorate walls and floors with flowers, play tunes on glasses filled with water, concoct aphrodisiacs and miraculous herbs, mix sherbets, fruit wines and cocktails , tailoring and embroidery, familiar with the rhythm of poetry, appropriate quotations from epics and dramas, gardening and plant medicine, throwing dice and playing chess... Of course, there are also yoga and gymnastics, secrets of private parts maintenance, and how to choose a good partner.

I couldn't help laughing—the ancient Indians' education for women seemed to be more demanding than the cultivation of gods.Such a peerless beauty who has been tempered and tempered, just to marry a mediocre man as one of his many wives is really reckless. The sex life of Indian women always makes people feel mysterious, perhaps because of yoga. Those incredible postures are beyond the reach of modern white-collar workers with stiff bones, as if they can fold their bodies into any shape at any time to please the man she likes.A woman needs worship in her love, so she is willing to "conceit" herself to look up to Chenghuan, as long as her man is happy.However, maybe this is because of the practice of polygamy in ancient India, so those women had to strive for excellence in order to be exclusive and exclusive?

My neighbor came over and asked me what book I was reading.I showed him the cover and asked what he was looking at.He said: ""Da Tang Western Regions"." I was a little dazed, and then I noticed the prayer beads on his wrist.I'm afraid it would be disrespectful to talk to a Buddhist enthusiast, so we didn't talk again in the second half of the trip. I later thought that might be a hint that from the moment I opened the book after boarding the plane, my trip to India was doomed to a certain experience.And "Da Tang Western Regions", the information from Mingming has long been included in these two titles.

Nothing in the world is absolutely accidental.When God comes down to a certain destiny, he always gives some hints first.However, even if we read those hints, we often cannot make a judgment, so we can only hand it back to God to decide, the so-called "resignation to fate". Over time, human beings have lost the wisdom of prediction and the ability to make decisions, and the only thing left is to bear. Drowsiness struck, and I heard someone calling in my ear: "Nalan, Nalan." I tossed and turned in the dream, and it was clear that I was dreaming.Because I was so eager to hear that voice.That voice is so familiar, as if it has called me like this eleven million times.However, I couldn't tell who that voice belonged to.

This is not the first time, I have heard this voice when I was very young.Sometimes he is very close to me, sometimes far away from me, sometimes sad, sometimes gentle, as if he has a thousand words to say, and he wants to say something, but in the end he only has those two words: Nalan. In my dream, I was always searching, mountains and rivers were far away, the universe was prehistoric, I seemed to have been searching since the beginning of chaos, but I didn't know what I was looking for.In the dream, sometimes it rains lightly, sometimes it snows like a veil, and occasionally there will be a moon, elongating my shadow dimly.The shadow is more lonely and confused than me.There is a cool wind carrying thin music coming from the other side of the universe, but it is difficult to distinguish.

In recent years, I have gradually seen those grottoes and broken stones in my dreams, and the long river with fine sand. The strange thing is that the river flows from south to north, like flowing gold.As early as in middle school, we had learned that the only river in the world that flows from south to north is the Nile, so I went to Egypt during the summer vacation, but found nothing; later I found out that although the Ganges in India is like all rivers Similarly, it originally flowed from north to south, but when it arrived in Varanasi, it suddenly turned around and changed to flow from south to north.At this time, I gradually realized that the music in the dream was originally Indian Sanskrit music.

Although I don't know why the ancient Indian Buddhist music and Ganges water appeared in my dreams, I thought that if I came to India, I might be able to find the answer.Even if it's a waste of time, it doesn't matter, anyway, I like ancient culture so much.As a middle school English teacher, traveling thousands of miles is definitely better than reading thousands of books, and it will also make my teaching more authoritative. Or, these are all me looking for a reason for my wandering around.Otherwise, where can I go during the long holiday and Spring Festival Eve? Seven hours later, the plane landed in New Delhi.I rubbed my sore eyes, and my sore legs, and walked down the gangway with the crowd.If you have no checked luggage, you can leave the customs after filling out the immigration card.The lobby in the early morning was cold and shabby, and there were only a few people at the station entrance. Looking around, I didn’t see a sign with my name on it. I didn’t feel anxious, so I decided to go to the bank counter to change money first.

The exchange rate between Indian rupees and U.S. dollars was 1:43.3 on the day. I exchanged 1,000 U.S. dollars, but only got 35,000 rupees, which was said to be withholding tax.I quickly did a mental calculation, and asked with some dissatisfaction: "Is it wrong? What is the exchange tax rate?" However, the other party was even more dissatisfied: "Almost." Then he pushed me a hundred rupees, and said again :"almost." I have long heard that the purpose of Indians is "almost", but it still surprises me that even the most official airport exchange is so large and generalized.But it was about the same anyway, so I had to put the money away and put it in my handbag.Suddenly someone patted him on the shoulder, and when he turned around, he was a dark-skinned young man with long hands and long legs. He had smiling eyes and very long and curly eyelashes, and said softly, "Scarlet?"

I quickly agreed, and asked, "Are you Sinha?" He nodded, his big black and white eyes were warm and affectionate, a bit like... Before I could figure out what he looked like, he had already stretched out his long hand and took a bunch of yellow fragrance The jasmine wreath was worn around my neck, and I said with a smile, "You are more beautiful in real life than in the photos." Before I could say thank you, I took out a silver ring inlaid with lotus flowers like magic and put it on my finger. I was shocked, and exaggeratedly folded my hands in front of my chest, making a shy gesture: "Propose so soon? But we just met!"

Xiao Xin laughed loudly, then hugged me gently, said "Welcome" in Hindi, and then said in Chinese: "Happy Chinese New Year. You are cuter than I imagined." This time I was really a little shy. I didn't expect Indian men to compliment women more sensually than French men. Sinha is my netizen, and it was he who invited me to travel to India on MSN.He said that he has two months of vacation, and he can play around with me.Our plan is, I will come to India for the Spring Festival, and he will arrange the itinerary; a month later, he will accompany me back to China for vacation, and I will be in charge of reception. This kind of exchange tour is very popular on the Internet, so we hit it off. Even if I am not looking for the answer in my dream, the Indian style still has a mysterious and coquettish attraction to me: bright saris, ancient stone castles, essential oils and aphrodisiacs, yoga, and strong curry... I have always liked gorgeousness stuff while fascinated by ancient cultures.And when the two are combined, it's simply my belief. I breathed exaggeratedly and said with a smile, "It doesn't seem to be different. I thought I would smell a strong curry smell when I got off the plane." "Curry can only be found where there are people. This is an airport, sparsely populated, but full of cars. Of course, there is only the smell of gasoline." Xin's car drove so well that in the groggy after the overnight flight, I could hardly feel that I had come to India.He told me nonchalantly that he is now a third-year student in the Chinese Department of Nikolai University, and his grades are ranked third in the class. He will graduate in one year. If he gets good grades, the government will send him to Peking University in China for further study.But he couldn't wait, and wanted to visit China before that, he liked China so much. In fact, he had already told me these words on MSN, but it was different to hear him say it in fluent and unaccurate Chinese in person.His Chinese is pretty good, but he often reverses the meaning of adjectives, such as "You just got off the plane, you must be full? When you get home, you can have Chinese food." Or, "It's very cold today, when you go out, Don't wear too many clothes, just a shirt is enough." I asked him: "Does your family also eat Chinese food? I would like to try Indian curry." He said in surprise: "Of course there is curry. The banana leaf curry my mother makes is very sweet. Everyone wants to eat Chinese food, right? Isn't the Chinese like this?" "Of course the Chinese eat Chinese food. But I thought Indians..." I suddenly understood, "You mean—'lunch'?" "It's just lunch, shouldn't it be called Chinese food? Breakfast, Chinese food, dinner. That's how we learned it in class, is it wrong?" I couldn't help laughing: "That's right, that's right, but I thought... Forget it, you just said that the weather is cold, do you mean 'COOL'?" "Of course not, 'COOL' means cold, I mean cool, just not cold, just wear a shirt. Isn't it called cool in Chinese?" I can't help laughing. Driving into the urban area, the roads are spacious and clean, lined with tall buildings and verdant trees, bars, Internet cafes, banks, and clothing stores are next to each other, just like any Chinese city. I rolled down the window and gulped in the smell of Indian cities, holding my breath for a moment before letting it out again.The distant Indian style swirled in my stomach, and there was an intimate taste. Xiao Xin looked at me strangely and asked, "Are you doing yoga?" I laughed: "I don't know how to do yoga. It's...do you know the idiom 'repulsive'?" "I know, but...is this the way to use gut-wrenching breath?" I laughed again. In front of strangers, I can easily become lively and eloquent.Spending half an hour with Xiao Xin talked more than I had with my colleagues in the whole semester. Perhaps it is the profession of a teacher that dictates that I must be eloquent in class, so I will inevitably cherish words like gold in my life.One is that I feel that all the words are advanced in class, and the other is that I am afraid that misfortune will come out of my mouth, and I will make too many mistakes. The reprimand I heard most often when I was a child was: "Speak less, no one will treat you as dumb." So I gradually became taciturn.Never waste your tongue if you are not sure that your words will be heard. However, Xiao Xin is so innocent, passionate, and witty, making people feel that talking is such an interesting thing that it is difficult to calm down. Xiao Xin's home is near the Central Park in New Delhi, with a shop downstairs and a residential house upstairs.Xiao Xin's family is in the spice business. Although the shop is small, it is colorful and full of temptation. The smell and color are as rich and fragrant.Dried flowers, cinnamon, essential oils, scented candles, and food seasonings are all nestled in their own bottles and jars in a quiet but noisy, crowded and orderly manner, peeking out at me, a foreigner, for the arrival of me. Passing through the storefront, there is a narrow staircase behind the curtain leading to the second floor.The place is spacious and the decoration is brand new. If it weren't for the Ganesha statue hanging on the door and the colorful hand-woven carpet in the living room, it would look like any ordinary Beijing middle-class home. Xin's mother was not wearing a sari, but a long shirt and sarong pants, just like a fashionable old lady practicing Tai Chi on the streets of Beijing.She can't speak Chinese, and her English is sloppy, and I have to rely on Xiao Xin as an interpreter for all my conversations, but this still doesn't affect her conversation, she talks a lot and quickly, accompanied by extremely exaggerated gestures.When we first met, she gave me a strong hug, and when I put down the gift, she gave me an exaggerated surprise, and in order to express her gratitude, she gave me a more suffocating bear hug. During the whole meal after that, my ears were receiving the interleaved playback of Mama Xin and Xiao Xin's two languages ​​at the same time. Because I couldn't respond in time, after the initial greetings, I just nodded my head to show that I listened. Go in, is it true, thank you very much, the curry is delicious... all kinds of meanings. Xin's mother said: "You are such a beautiful girl. How old are you? 25? Three years older than our little Xin, already a teacher? You can't tell at all. Chinese girls look really young." I nodded, meaning thank you for the compliment. Mama Xin said again: "Is the curry delicious? In fact, people in New Delhi don't eat curry all at once, and they also use plates instead of banana leaves. But Xiao Xin said that you probably want to eat authentic Indian curry, so I specially bought fresh curry. The banana leaf is back. Do you like it?" I nodded, meaning it was very tasty. Xin's mother said: "I always wanted to have a daughter. The daughter is good, beautiful, well-behaved, and caring to my mother. But I only have two sons. The eldest son even became a monk..." Now I stopped nodding, raised my head with a mouthful of curry in my mouth, and widened my eyes in astonishment.Then, I swallowed the mouthful of rice hard, and asked Xiao Xin: "Don't your family worship Lord Shiva? How did you become a Buddhist disciple?" Xiao Xin replied very cautiously: "We are a Kshatriya family, of course we believe in Hinduism. But my elder brother... somehow became obsessed with Buddhism. After graduating, he became a monk and placed orders everywhere. The Chinese word is "Yunyou", which is really vivid, like a cloud, floating around, and we don't know where he is now." I did my homework before and knew that more than 80 percent of the people in India are Hindus.Hinduism is a polytheistic religion, and there are three most powerful gods: Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the protector, and Shiva, the destroyer. Legend has it that Brahma, the creator, woke up on the water and cried sadly when he saw that he was alone. Air, land, and plants emerged from his tears, chaos opened, and heaven and earth began to grow. After creating the concepts of real and imaginary such as gods, thoughts, time, etc., Brahma decided to create human beings who are most like gods but not gods, so there are four surnames: Brahman is born from his mind, and he will become a poet or a poet. The monks have been engaged in the noble profession of serving the gods for generations; the Kshatriyas are born from his shoulders, which are noble royals or warriors; the Vaisyas are created with his hands, and become wealthy and capable merchants and handicraftsmen; What is born under the feet is the Sudra, the most hard-working peasant, herdsman and slave, destined to be trampled by the other three more noble castes. In addition to these four castes, there is also a class of untouchables called "untouchables" in Indian history, whose blood is derived from the children of caste hybrids.Because of the moral dimension involved, its status is even lower and it is "unclean". In today's India, although the caste system has long existed in name only, intermarriage between castes has become a normal thing.However, the real Brahmin or Kshatriya will still be proud of their caste, and no one will take the initiative to admit that he is from the Sudra family. As for the "untouchables", it is more like a class that never existed, completely in New India It disappeared from the dictionary, and people avoided bringing up the topic like a scandal. When I first arrived in India, I didn’t know the various taboos about caste and religion. I was worried that it would be reckless to talk about Buddhism in a family that worshiped Shiva. Although I was full of curiosity, I still lowered my head wisely and restored the function of my mouth to the minimum. Basic function - chewing and swallowing. The curry is really delicious, and the banana leaves that hold the curry are also very fresh, shining with green oil, on which there are small groups of mutton, chicken, green peppers, onions, carrots, potatoes, cheese, and diced pickled fruits. , sweet and spicy sauce, and pancakes, etc. The form is a bit like the lunch box tray in many factories in our country. It is a mixture of meat and vegetables, but the colors match well.The way to eat it is to grab it with your hands, or wrap it in a pancake, or even lick it directly with a banana leaf. The eating habit of Indians is that even the soup will not be wasted. There will always be the last piece of cake to wipe the bottom. However, the banana leaves are disposable and will not be recycled.Because Indians have a very strong concept of "clean" and "unclean", such as the right hand is clean, the left is unclean; the right bank of the Ganges is holy, the left bank is unclean, and so on. Although I'm not used to grabbing rice with my hands, Xiao Xin said very nicely: "Washing your hands and chopsticks is to remove stains. Why are chopsticks cleaner than your hands? Besides, there are still many knives and forks in restaurants that I don't know. People have used it before. Besides, eating with your hands is a respect for your mother. When your fingers feel the temperature and delicacy of the food, the delicacy will be more real. When your fingers touch the food, your mother’s love will flow through your fingers. The tip reaches your heart." He said it so emotionally that I couldn't help but feel that the hand-picked rice is almost like a ritual, extremely noble and gentle.And when I grabbed the cake and dipped the mutton into my mouth, I really felt Mama Xin’s broad and tender maternal love—her eyes always enveloped me lovingly, and she kept gesticulating and talking about India. .Even though Xiao Xin refused to translate sentence by sentence, Mama Xin still insisted on talking to herself until the last moment of our lunch. Talking is a wonderful thing.Some people have to think carefully before saying every word, some people don’t speculate more than half a sentence, and some people, like Xin’s mother, are so keen on talking that they don’t even need to listen, but just to tell themselves. So I guess she is a lonely person. Mother Xin is very enthusiastic, and Xiao Xin is also very sunny, but I still smell a special smell - no matter how cheerful a child who grows up in an incomplete family, there will always be a brand on his body and exude a brand of cannon. The sad smell left after the punishment will never dissipate. I guess the absence in this house is not only a big brother, but also a father.I don't know why that father left Xiao Xin's mother and son.There must be a sad story there.Because I have smelled that kind of sadness from Xiao Xin, and I know that we have similar experiences.We are like some kind of little beast that runs through the jungle, instinctively distinguishing itself from our own kind.Perhaps this explains why we are so easily familiar. After dinner, Xiao Xin asked me if I wanted to sleep for a while. I shook my head and told the truth: "Until now, I haven't felt that I have really arrived in India. It feels like I am visiting an Indian family in China." "You want to feel the real India?" Xiao Xin's long and curly black eyelashes flickered, "You mean, India is hot and humid, dirty, poor, and backward...is that so?" I was a little embarrassed, but I still asked stubbornly, "Isn't that so?" Xiao Xin lowered his eyelashes, thought about it seriously, and answered honestly: "Mostly yes. Okay, I will drive you to Old Delhi. Let you see the India in your mind." "I'm not..." I wanted to explain, but I was afraid that the description would become darker, and finally I had to give up my defense with an apologetic smile. When she said goodbye to Mama Xin, she was very reluctant to part with her. Even though Xiaoxin had always promised that we would go back as soon as we went, and I would live here at night, just cleaning the room was enough for Mama Xin to be busy all afternoon. Repeatedly: "You guys have to be back in an hour, you know? One hour, no more than that." For emphasis, "One Hour" she said in English, making sure I could understand it too. I was a little hesitant, but Xiao Xin had already pulled me out the door.I worriedly asked: "One hour, how is it enough to go back and forth?" Sinha smiled and said, "Of course it's not enough, who said you'll be back within an hour?" "But you promised mom..." "Teach you a word: India time." "You mean, time difference? I know that the time difference between India and Beijing is two and a half hours." "No. 'India time' means that when you say one hour, it may actually mean two hours, three hours, or even seven or eight hours. An hour is just telling you to hurry up, not really an hour. So , if an Indian asks you to meet at two o'clock in the afternoon, you have to be prepared, he may not come until five o'clock; and when you take the train, if the ticket departs at three o'clock, you have to arrive at one o'clock station, but there may be no departure at six o'clock." "Thank you for coming to the airport to pick me up on time." I shrugged and said happily, "But my plane arrived on time." "Oh, yours is a Shanghai flight. When you return to China from India, let's see if it will take off on time." Through the car window, you can see the magnificent Gate of India from a distance. The square is full of Indian women in bright saris taking pictures. As the car gets closer, you can clearly see children teasing monkeys and little squirrels with food . Xiao Xin said proudly: "Do you think New Delhi is like Beijing? We are building a subway, and it will look more like it when it is completed." "However, there will be no monkeys in Beijing's squares." "Haha, many people say that India is like a natural zoo: camels, monkeys, pigeons, squirrels, peacocks, and even elephants walk all over the streets." Sinha told me with a smile that Hinduism advocates the worship of nature, and humans and animals are equal and respect each other Relationship.Therefore, people and animals can not only live in peace and live together, but can even make love to each other.There are many sculptures about bestiality on the walls of the sex temple in Kejuraho. I blushed a little, fortunately Xiao Xin said this in English, otherwise I would not know how to respond.Just then, a cow walked by the window.Typical Indian cow.Thin and raised back, gentle eyes, leisurely pace.I screamed excitedly: "Ox, look, Ox!" "What's the fuss about cows?" Sinha disagreed, "Are there no cows in China?" "Chinese cows don't walk on the street." I continued to shout, "This is India! I imagine India is like this. God cows walk all over the street, not afraid of cars, do not hide from pedestrians, cows are everywhere Shit, as much as curry." Sinha frowned, and I suddenly thought that I had just eaten, and I really shouldn't compare Mama Xin's curry with cow dung, so I quickly apologized: "I didn't mean that curry is the same as cow dung, I mean... well, I gave Let me tell you a story. There was a man and a woman living on a deserted island, cold and hungry. After the man inspected a circle, he came back and told the woman: "There is good news and bad news, which one do you want to hear first?" Here, you want to go first Which one are you listening to?" Xiao Xin thought about it seriously: "Chinese people often say 'bitterness first, sweetness later'. Let's tell the bad news first." I suppressed a laugh and said, "The bad news is: there is nothing to eat on this island except cow dung." "Huh? What about the good news?" "The good news is... cow dung is plentiful." Xiao Xin laughed out loud, and said, "Chinses girl." I immediately felt ashamed, for fear of having a bad influence on the "Chinese girls", and was about to explain that not all Chinese girls are like me, when I suddenly saw a few Indian girls coming from the opposite side, wearing bright and light gauze The figure is really graceful, she doesn't necessarily twist her waist or move her hands and feet, but just walks in a meandering way, like a dance.I can't help but keep silent, Indian girls do have a softness and grace that Chinese girls don't have. "Beauty." I admired, looking at the auspicious moles on the foreheads and the diamond rings on the noses of those Indian women, I suddenly wondered what Xiao Xin's eyes looked like.Not only Xiao Xin, but also those beauties, they all have a pair of affectionate eyes, big and gentle, clearly like the eyes of a docile divine cow. I asked Xiao Xin: "Do you have a girlfriend?" "No." "But in India, shouldn't you be able to get married at your age?" "But I don't want to stay in India forever. After I graduate from university, I'm going to Beijing, and I may stay in China and marry a Chinese girl as my wife. Well, you Chinese care about wives, don't you call them 'wives'? cute." Discussing the issue of "wife" with a half-strange foreign boy made me a little shy. At this moment, I suddenly realized that the differences between us are not only religion, culture, habits, tastes, etc., but also the most subtle things that cannot be accurately defined. some topics.For example, he can't accept my mentioning "curry" and "cow dung" together, and I can't talk to him about "wife" and "bestiality". Entering Old Delhi, there are more cows on the street, competing with cars for the road, and honking at them is ignored.It is said that this is because in myths and legends, the cow is the mount of Lord Shiva, so it is respectfully called the "God Bull" and has a noble status. But Xiao Xin told me that not all stray cows are called "divine cows".A cow is a cow, just like the stray dogs, monkeys, and camels that usually appear on the road, it is just a creature that coexists with humans in this world.People respect cows because cows provide humans with milk, meat, cow dung and other wealth. They are one of the five animals that the Indian people regard as their mothers.As for the sacred cow, it refers specifically to Shiva's mount cow "Nandi". I took the opportunity to ask a question that has been confusing for a long time: "Isn't Shiva the god of destruction? Why do Hindus worship Shiva in this way? Is it advocating destruction?" "Of course not. The God of Destruction is the most powerful god among the gods, and he has the most believers, but he does not destroy everything, but only destroys bad and wrong things, so that we can rebuild better, right, and A new world. This is the same as your Pangu opened up the world, Pangu broke the chaos and opened up the world." I thought for a while and said, "Actually, Brahma, the creator god, is more like the role of Pangu, and the deeds of the god of destruction are more like what the Chinese often say, 'Destroy the old and create the new', or 'Nothing can be built without breaking it'." This is really a delicate cycle, creation-protection-destruction-re-creation-re-protection-destruction, repeating itself.Maybe this is a kind of reincarnation and balance?I somewhat understand why Hindus worship destruction that way, because the core of destruction is the desire to create. I suddenly remembered the matter of Brother Sinha becoming a monk, and I couldn’t help asking: “I heard that Buddhism originated from Hinduism, so your brother gave up Lord Shiva and turned to Buddha, isn’t it also in line with the spirit of Shiva?” Xiao Xin started to frown again, I ignored him, and continued to ask: "Tell me about your elder brother. How did he think of learning Buddhism?" "He said he heard the call of the Buddha." "What's the meaning?" "We're here on Chandni Chuuk Street." Xiao Xin answered irrelevantly, "Do you want to get out of the car and take a stroll?" Chandnichuk Street can be said to be the Indian street market with the most characteristics of Old Delhi. Although it is only one street away, the old and new Delhi are like two countries. A clean and civilized city like any open city in China is worthy of the capital. while the other is chaotic and crowded, as if time and space have gone back fifty years, and it is more messy and chaotic than the most backward township market in our country. What is rare is that it is lively, pungent and lively.There are more cars, more people, more garbage, and the most common means of transportation are three-wheeled motorcycles. The horns are loud, but they can neither drive the crowd nor disperse the livestock. It will only make the already chaotic order and noise become more crowded.However, the stray cows and stray dogs happily rummaged through the garbage dump for food, while the stray man was lying not far away to cool off, unmoved at all, as if he had already been completely in tune with the sharp whistle and the dilapidated environment around him. One. I said that I wanted to fight the real India, and now Chandnichuk Street gave me a head-on blow with its hustle and bustle. The whole street is full of lingering rancid smell, and poverty that cannot be concealed. .Barefoot children flocked up to beg for money, with their palms reaching up to the eyelids of people, shouting: "ONE DOLLER! ONE DOLLER!" Some kept pointing and patting their arms again and again Nodding and bowing, it means that there is no food, no clothes, please take pity on me.The whole set of movements is coherent and skillful, forming a self-contained system.Xiao Xin warned me not to give money, otherwise more beggars would be attracted.But it was too late, I instinctively took out the change and distributed it to the children in front of me. It was as if hearing a silent command, so many little beggars came out of nowhere, hugged and pulled their clothes, shouting "ONE DOLLER!" more and more.I kept saying "SORRY" and tried to separate the children standing in front of me, but they held hands and arms relentlessly, some of them even grabbed my skirt and began to fumble, some even hugged my thigh, and I I could clearly feel the boy hugging my legs gently stroking me, and I couldn't help feeling embarrassed and scared. Fortunately, Xiao Xin rushed up, shouted loudly in Hindi, dragged me to speed up a few steps, and quickly walked into the commercial street.The front of the shop seemed to be a forbidden area for beggars, and they stopped instinctively when they reached the street, as if seeing an invisible barrier. However, the hawkers will also shout "ONE DOLLER" and rush up, holding a silk scarf or a piece of jewelry in their hands. "One dollar is so cheap?" I stopped, and when I really planned to patronize it, the hawker had already changed his words, "TEN DOLLER!" "But you just said it was a dollar." "$9!" The peddler acted as if he couldn't hear my words. He held the silk scarf in front of my eyes in a good-tempered manner, and quoted the price to himself: "$8.5, $8!" "Three dollars! It's a deal." I tried to counter the price. "$7!" I turned around and left.The peddler hurriedly greeted: "OK, OK!" But when I turned around, he immediately changed his mouth: "7 dollars! 6.5 dollars!" "Two for $6." I stood far away, as if to leave if I couldn't do it. This trick has been tried and tested in China, and it seems to work in India.The peddler said happily: "OK! OK!" and kept waving at me. I had already paid while I was walking, but I heard the peddler say very simply: "Six dollars for one piece, 12 dollars for two pieces!" This kind of soft and hard foaming and coming out is simply maddening. I finally made up my mind to turn around and walk away, even though he shouted "OK!" or even "ONE DOLLER!" behind me, and never looked back. Xiao Xin had been watching from the sidelines with a smile, and only then caught up and said: "You don't know the time in India, and you are not used to the prices in India. You can't bargain like this. Next time you like something, let me bargain for you. Also, if I don’t really want it. It’s best not to be curious to ask for a price. It will cause trouble for yourself. But today is an exception. Today is your first day here. You need to practice a lot so that you will learn smarter later. But tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, The day after tomorrow, I can’t always help you. In India, locals can ignore beggars, but it’s wrong to stop tourists from giving alms.” Only then did I understand why he didn't help when he saw those children pestering me just now, and didn't show up to save me until he saw that I was really in a mess.One is because of inconvenient status, and the other is probably intentionally to make me suffer a little and learn a lesson.I sincerely thank you: "Listening to your words is better than reading ten years of books." Xiao Xin's eyes widened immediately: "What words? What books? Please speak slowly and teach me well." I couldn't help laughing again. In my later travels alone, I benefited a lot from Xiao Xin's teachings.Haggling in India is such a headache because you don't know where the bottom line is.Although in China, it is also asking for a lot of money to pay back the money, but there is always a limit, whether it is cut in half or a third; India is different, you can bargain for 800 for a dress that is priced at 10,000 rupees, and there is no need to pay attention to the price of the hawker. , and as long as you follow the price you set for the product in your own mind, or the price you are willing to pay. At the beginning, I had no experience, and I always paid back the amount with trepidation, and then started the see-saw station, scrambling for 50 rupees and 50 rupees until the final transaction.Later, when I gained experience, I only asked about the price, and then decisively paid a minimum price in my mind, and then raised it to double the transaction at most.Before buying something, ask yourself: How much RMB do you want to buy it for?Then quickly convert it into rupees, and start a verbal war with half the price. You must be patient with the Indians' obsession. No matter how chatty the Chinese hawkers are, the price of one thousand things will go up and down one hundred and one hundred, and the minimum limit is fifty.And in India, they will buy you mushrooms for thirty or fifty dollars worth of goods worth tens of thousands, which makes people really angry.Even if you have firmly said: "Either two hundred, or don't buy it!" He will still use the calculator to press "1850" and talk to you slowly.You turned around and left in anger, he pulled you back and said "No problem" and tried to persuade you to stay, you thought he agreed, but when you turned around, he smiled at you honestly while holding a calculator showing "1800"... 然而说印度人精明吧，他们又好像不大会算账，买一件衬衫，还到六百还下不来。四件两千，他却会很痛快地答应。我最开始逛店总是一件东西一件东西地问价、砍价，后来学精了，把自己相中的货品一齐堆在柜台上，一一指点着，“一、二、三、四、五，一共多少？”这样子算下来的价格，总会比一件一件买便宜得多。 这样一路走一路练习，只逛了半条街，我已经挤出一身汗来。市场里琳琅满目，应有尽有，巷子本来不算窄，但是因为店铺林立，且家家都将摊位摆出街面来，越往深处走，人群越拥挤，几乎摩肩擦踵。人与人之间距离太近总是令我不适，况且即便是“印度时间”，离辛妈的一小时规定也超出太多了。 于是我们决定收兵，但因为我实在好奇小辛的讲价功夫，遂在一家手工饰品店里挑了条镶着宝石莲花的银手链，好配搭小辛送我的银莲花戒指。 小辛与店主用本地语交流，也没见他怎么费口舌，就达成了交易。我望尘莫及，却并不服气，笑着说：“不算，你是本地人，他们报价会老实得多。” “也是。”小辛并不居功，反问我：“你也喜欢莲花吗？” “谁会不喜欢呢？”我改用中文说，“你念中文，知道我们的《爱莲说》吗？” “《爱莲说》？是一种经文吗？” “不是，是古文，专门描写莲花的。”我轻轻背诵，“出淤泥而不染，濯清涟而不妖；中通外直，不蔓不枝，香远益清，亭亭静植，可远观而不可亵玩焉。” “你念得很好听，不过，是什么意思呢？” 我微笑，虽然辛哈的中文了得，不过我国古文化博大精深，岂是一个印度少年上几年中文学校就可以体会的。我岔开话题，问他：“你刚才问我'也喜欢莲花'吗？是不是你自己很喜欢莲花？” “谁会不喜欢呢？”小辛学着我的口气答，“莲花可是印度教的象征啊。” “哦，不是佛教的象征吗？” “跟印度教学的。”小辛简截地回答，语气里多少有些自得，“释迦牟尼生下来，也是刹帝利。” 也许这就是佛教与佛祖最可亲的地方。 我们知道耶酥是上帝之子，可是上帝是谁的儿子呢？我们知道梵天制造了人类，可是梵天由谁制造？至于中国的女娲抟土造人，盘古开天辟地，甚至都不能称之为信仰，而仅仅是传说，连孩子也知道那不是事实。 但佛教是不同的，佛祖释迦牟尼不但有父有母，还有名有姓。 他的本名叫作乔达摩悉达多，出生于公元前六世纪的蓝毗尼花园，父亲是迦毗罗卫国释迦族族长净饭王，母亲是拘利族王国的摩耶公主。 那必然是一个阳光明媚花香馥郁的春天，临近生产的皇后摩耶夫人按照风俗回娘家待产，路过蓝毗尼花园时，看到一株鲜花盛开的无忧树。当她伸出手来摘取头顶最美的一朵花时，王子自她的腋下诞生了。 他一生下来就会走路，向东南西北四个方向各走七步，步步生莲，霞光万丈。他站下来，一手指天，一手指地，天地之间，惟我独尊。 ——这当然是传说。真相是，纵然贵为王子，他的种姓却从出生那天起，已经注定是刹帝利，并不可以通过自身的努力而改变。也许，这在他小时候曾经引起过他的不快与深思吧？他无疑是智慧慈悲充满了人格魅力的，也无疑受到臣民的景仰，可是，他仍要对婆罗门低声下气，以次等种姓之礼相待。在当时，难道不会使他思考，使他质疑，为什么同为人类，却生而不平等吗？ 尤其是，在他出生第七天，摩耶夫人便不幸去逝，虽然姨母给予了他充分的疼爱，却仍不能让王子觉得满足。他总是问父亲与老师们：为什么花开了要谢？为什么美好的时光不能常驻？为什么人生下来要分为四种姓？ 净饭王为了安慰儿子，召集全国的能工巧匠建筑了一座美丽的四时宫殿，并在宫中堆满了奇珍异宝，以此来抵御春去秋来。但是这些都不能使王子觉得快乐，他娶了邻国美丽的公主为妻，还生下一个可爱的王孙，却只觉更加困惑：生老病死，究竟意味着什么？爱憎痴欲，怎么样才能真正解脱？他能让这座华丽的宫殿永远不朽吗？能让美艳的妻子永远不老，让可爱的儿子永远不死吗？此时愈快乐，彼时便越悲伤；今日再美丽，他日也难永恒；要想战胜这一切，需要怎样的修为？ 现有的宗教与知识不能解答他的疑问，于是他决意离家苦修，并最终在菩提树下顿悟，参透真谛，提出“大地众生皆有如来智慧德相”，“四姓出家，同为释氏”的主张，建立了佛教。 与其说佛陀是一位创造者，勿宁说是一位革命家，勇于反抗婆罗门教的压迫束缚，而大胆地提出“众生平等”。在根本上，这与农民起义的“王侯将相，宁有种乎”是一样的，都具有振臂一呼，群起响应的力量。是被压迫者奋起反抗压迫者的一种声音。事实上，印度历史上规模最大的一次改教活动，正是发生于社会地位最低卑的“不可接触者”阶层中，充分显示出佛教对于心灵的安抚作用。 只是，陈胜、吴广为的是一己之欲，为的是称王称相，富贵荣华，终究是凡人贪念；而释迦牟尼却为的是千秋百姓，为的是度万众脱苦海，永生极乐。他要战胜的，不只是强权和压迫，还有生、老、病、死、怨憎会、爱别离、求不得，贪嗔痴欲循环不已的小我私欲，所以，他成了佛。 后世尊称这位释迦族的智者为释迦牟尼，而将佛门弟子称为“释子”，印度人惯称作“比丘”，而中国人称之为“和尚”。 但是小辛的哥哥大辛，又是受到什么样的触动，才决定断发出家，投身佛门做一名释子的呢？ 晚上，我睡在辛哈大哥的房间。据说，自从五年前大辛出家，这房间就一直空着，但始终保持原样，因为辛妈相信，儿子总有一天会还俗归来。 大辛品位不俗，房间布置得雅洁明朗，既没有印度家庭惯有的描金细密画，也没有佛门子弟供奉的佛龛香炉，只是架上累累的佛教书籍才可以透露出房间主人的信仰。最特别的，是其中还有很多中文书，包括唐僧玄奘主持编写的《大唐西域记》，赵朴初的《佛教知识问答》，以及中英文对照的《六度集经》，《大正藏》，《菩萨本缘经》等，还有几本笔记。 我随手抽出，翻开，发现竟是一本手绘册子，从第一页到最后一页，满满的都是莲花。 原来，这个家里最喜欢莲花的人是大辛。 我着迷地看着那些莲花，有些是水彩，有些只是简单的素描，然而了了几笔，已经临摩出一朵栩栩如生的莲花，仿佛吹口气，就可以迎风摇摆。它们或者一枝独秀，或者成群连袂，或者顺流而下，或者只是供在水盆里，或粉或白，甚至还有几幅蓝莲花，但是，都那么艳而不骄，风骨清扬。 有些页码上，除了莲花外，偶尔还会有些简单的句子，是英文，语法并不准确，表达的情绪却极特别而且浓烈，似乎绘画人并不打算让任何人看懂它们，而只是随意地记下自己当时的心情——“世事如河水沉浮，莲花飘在水上，是不沉的思想，或许，这便是佛性吧。” “人生短暂，苦难如汪洋无边，曼殊莎华在彼岸开放。莲花在这里，莲花不语，莲花是谁的知己？” “佛说：由爱故生忧，由爱故生怖。莲花笑了。莲花是无忧亦无怖的——是因为莲花无根吗？” ... 我有些好奇，一个什么样的人，会将莲花画得这样传神？他明明出生于传统的印度家庭，自幼接受湿婆教的灌输，家里四壁挂满了象头神和印度神话故事的描金画，为什么，他却会与世隔绝般地独立生长，将自己变成一株佛台的莲花？ 这天晚上，我又做梦了，梦见自己在茫茫原野中踽踽独行，天地寂廖无垠，远处却有一株高大的菩提树傲然独立，我走过去，看到一个和尚身披袈裟，在树下打坐——那是佛祖，还是大辛？ 然后，我又听到那声音轻轻呼唤：娜兰。 梦在这时候醒了，静夜里，仿佛有清风送来花香，我睁开眼睛，看见墙上奇迹般地绽放着一朵巨大的白莲花，倩影轻盈，暗香浮动。 白天我打量过这个房间的，明明记得墙上没有任何装饰，怎么会突然多出这朵晶莹的白莲花？ 我疑心自己是幻觉，忍不住走近仔细端详，这才发现墙面有轻微的凸起，看来是某种特殊的荧光涂料，可以在黑暗中发光并且有极轻微的香味。这朵花，也是大辛的杰作么？ 远处，依稀有钟声长鸣，悠远沉静，直抵人的内心。 我不觉一动：这是大辛的房间，莫非，当年，他也是常常在夜里醒来，听到这样的钟声的召唤，所以才会离开自己的家庭，投入佛门？