But, surely, as the shock of it all begins to wear down, I will take more photos of the experience. In essence, two lane roads become multiple, 6-8 lane free-for-alls. There are as many means of transportation. Everything from walkers, bicyclists, motorcyclists, motorized and man-powered rickshaws, taxi vans, cars and buses, all sharing the same road, all vying for the smallest of spaces in which to weave in and out of, some more aggressively than others. Oh yeah, in addition to all of the vehicles, there are many dogs, along with the highly revered cow. At one point I heard myself blurting out "holy cow!!", humored by appropriateness of the exclamation. Traveling through the frenetically packed and bustling streets of any of the towns I have visited and traveled through, I find myself praying that no one get harmed on my behalf. Each ride is breathtaking as the drivers come within inches of each other, bumper to bumper, beeping their horns all along the way. As I anticipated experiencing the sweet sounds of sacred chants sung in the ashrams while visiting India, I had no idea that the sounds of never-ending honking horns would also be a big part of the texture of my experience here, sounds I will surely not forget anytime soon. While 35% of reported deaths in India are due to traffic accidents, there is a real sense that in the apparent chaos expressed in the streets, underlying all of it is a kind of rhythm that moves the masses along, protecting them along the way. Before leaving for my journey, one wiser than I counseled me to go with the flow, to find that rhythm. Surely my rides will become less stressful as I do so.
After leaving Poohl Chanti, I traveled into Hardiwar, a sacred city along the Ganges. After a night's rest, I took my first train ride of the journey into Chandigarh. Chandigarh is considered to be the most modern city in India, initially designed by two Americans and then taken over by a famous Swiss architect, whose intention it was to create a city designed to cater to the needs of the pedestrian, with sidewalks and parks, based upon a grid system. Environmental issues are of concern here, unlike other parts of India. Due to a statewide medical conference that was taking place that week, there were no rooms to be found, so I decided to continue on to Amritsar. Arriving after dark, quite weary from traveling all day, 5 hours on the train, 7 on the bus, I was not prepared for what I was to encounter there.With the travel gods watching over me, I was well cared for, as an Indian family took me under their wings, guiding me along the way, as we were both heading off for the Golden Temple, the home of the holiest shrine for the Sikhs. Sharing a rickshaw, we made our way to the Temple, in the densest traffic of all, as we worked our way through the industrial area. Much of the importing and exporting of goods happens at night, when the weather cools down. Oftentimes the flow of traffic is predominantly going in one direction. On this evening, it was going both ways. Yikes!!! Not to belabor the point, but as you can tell, I am still taking it all in.
Arriving at the Temple one moves into another kind of flow. Upon entering the sacred grounds, everyone who enters is immediately asked to remove and store their shoes, wash their feet and cover their heads. 
While my cap would not do, the scarf I have become accustomed to wearing served me well. As the family went their way, I was directed towards a dorm-like place, where many, many travelers had already bedded down for the night. I was given a locker to store my stuff in, and then back out into the masses. The Temple is a sanctuary for pilgrims from all walks of life. Housing and meals are provided free of charge to all who come to pay their respects, symbolizing a commitment to honoring the unity of all people, all religions and all nationalities. 
In the community dining hall, up to 40,000 are fed a day, round the clock, with the constant clattering of metal dinner plates as they are returned to be washed. 
Many, many devoted pilgrims were already asleep for the night, some on the open marble floors, some on the grassed areas, with many many more in reserved rooms. Meanwhile there is an on-going flow of those choosing to bathe in the sacred waters that surround the Temple.
The Sikh religion was created over 500 hundred years ago with a lineage of 9 gurus. Its founder, Guru Nanak, was a non-atheist who did not believe in the caste system, but rather that "God was not concerned with the caste, but with the doings of man." Unity of God and the brotherhood of man is the main thrust of his teachings, insisting that the truth ultimately lives in every individual.
Sikhism is a faith of both Hindus and Muslims. Guru Nanuk was against the superstitions and idolatry of the Hindus and the intolerance of the Muslims, providing an alternative faith for those of both nationalities. The architecture is a blend of Hindu and Islamic design, with a gold gilded dome representing an inverted lotus blossom.
During designated hours of the day, Priests keep up continuous chants which are broadcast throughout by loud speakers. There is little question that this is a holy place, as the faithful come to worship and seek healing.
Night two in Amritsar I chose to sleep in a hotel room with all of the comfy accommodations, hoping to catch up on sleep (costing a whopping 1,000 rupees - $20 – money well spent!) The next day I returned to the Temple, wanting to take in more of it, including the walk into the Holy Shrine. Having done so, I just may have satisfied my need to visit the Taj Mahal, given that the Temple is reported to be the second most beautiful building in India! I shall see. Clearly its breathtaking beauty, along with its inspiring atmosphere, met many needs. I am grateful for having visited there and the graciousness of those who received me and the many others.
In the late afternoon, I, along with many thousands of other tourists, set out to witness the ceremonial closing of the Pakistan-Indian border, some 40 km. away. Back into the flow of traffic, we arrive to quite a scene of hordes of people making their way to the stadium, which was built to accommodate massive crowds. My heart skips a beat as I lay my eyes on a Sophie look-alike; eager to pet her, I was refused the opportunity. As we get closer, woman are sent through a draped receiving line, in which we are briefly scanned. 
As an American I, along with other Westerns, are assigned VIP seats up close. I am amazed at the number of people who have come here to experience this daily event.
It is quite a ceremony of pomp and circumstance, with young people dancing and cheering to the music. Then as the young soldiers in their flashy uniforms parade before their respective audiences, the two countries come together to perform their highly choreographed flag-folding ceremonies. Meanwhile we are all led in a series of chants, "Hindustan Zindabad! Hindustan Zindabad! Hindustan Zindabad!" (long live Hindustan).
On the other side, Pakistanis are doing their thing. With a much smaller crowd present, the men and woman are sitting on separate sides of the bleachers, with the woman all wearing their burkas.
Meanwhile, earlier in the day, I read in the India News, that Obama is highly encouraging the Pakistanis and the Indians to engage in dialogue. So while the people are enjoying the sports-team like rivalry between the two countries, their governments are at work (or not) on some pretty serious matters.
We were asked to return to the bus at a designated time, in order to make our return to Amristar in a timely fashion. With all of us on board, off we go, back into the flow of traffic. One more trip to the Temple before going to bed. A long trip awaits me tomorrow, as I continue on to Dharamsala.
Om Shanti.
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