Lessons of a river
- Duarte Gameiro
- Dec 31, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Jan 2
Today is January 1st, and the 16th day since my arrival in India. As you probably might have noticed, my travel log has only two entries before this one. I smile at my own foolishness for expecting to keep a daily record of events when what this land asks of us is to fervently and wholeheartedly merge with it. That gives you an idea of how my days have been, with one synchronicity leading to another, with an intensity comparable to an experienced yet relaxed motorcyclist in Indian traffic. I see now that this travel log will likely contain both a mix of memories from a few days before and transcriptions of notes taken on the day of the actual events. Today's log belongs to the latter.
The river that I am now pausing with generously shows me that the water has a pace of its own, and there is nothing I can do to slow it down or speed it up. All I can do is enjoy the rafting (after all, these thousands of boats do serve a contemplative purpose as well).
The naïve desire to write with more consistency feels like those days when we decide to go see the sunrise: we climb a hill, we breathe, we patiently wait as the morning radiance fills the sky, and, finally, when the auspicious moment arises, we have the urge to grab our phone and take a picture. How silly, no? Why this obsession with trying to immortalize what is ephemeral? Can't we graciously accept that each instant simply dies before our eyes, never to return? Every tender smile, every graceful soar of an eagle, every delicious street-made samosa (equally unforgettable). How much easier would life be if we embraced death as a daily companion. I am beginning to understand why rivers are so often compared to life itself, as the water does not pass by the same place twice.
O blessed must have been the times, almost lost to memory, where a new-born child would reverently be welcomed with: "welcome to life, the path to death". Certainly, I will connect more with all this once I reach the city of Kashi (commonly known as Varanasi).
As I observe the Ganga and its birds hovering or sunbathing, I wonder if it could actually be possible that the exact same water I see now, I would later see it in Kashi...
Prompt: How many days does it take for the water passing in Rishikesh to reach Varanasi?
AI: The Ganges River flows approximately 800 kilometers (500 miles) between Rishikesh and Varanasi. The river's flow rate varies significantly along its course, influenced by factors such as gradient, channel width, and seasonal changes. In the upper segments, like from Gaumukh to Rishikesh, the river flows on a steep bed with an average slope of about 1 in 70, resulting in faster currents.
As the Ganges enters the plains, the gradient decreases, leading to slower flow velocities. While specific flow rates between Rishikesh and Varanasi are not readily available, it's reasonable to estimate an average flow speed of 2 to 5 kilometers per hour (1.2 to 3.1 miles per hour) in this stretch.
Based on this estimated flow speed, it would take approximately 7 to 17 days for water to travel from Rishikesh to Varanasi. This is a rough estimate, as actual travel times can vary due to factors like seasonal flow variations, river meandering, and human interventions such as dams and barrages.
It does match my travel schedule. I will remember it when I sit by the river with a new background. Maybe in the end, we can, in fact, live the same moment more than once. Just in case, I might take a picture of the next sunrise.
One of the only people I know in town just passed by, suggesting me to bathe in the river as a new year ritual. What more could I ask of life?
