The next day has us travelling more than 100 km to visit Paresh’s older brother. He had recently moved to a very remote village of no more than 1000 people to start a new pharmacy with his wife. On our journey we are stopped by police at the border of the Maharashtra state and the police ask why Paresh has a tourist wearing crocs on the back of his bike.The policeman, like many of the children down in the centre of town is only curious and let’s us go.
On our slightly painful journey we brainstorm ideas for the social experiment in India and through our conversation we come to uncover that much of the younger generation feel restricted in the age-old traditions of expectation. The youth were looking for more freedom and empowerment, they wanted to feel that they were capable of being a part of the change as oppose to always being told of the change. By the time we arrive I feel as if we have taken leaps forward in terms of knowing each other and having a much clearer idea as to what art could be created.
His brother welcomes us to their newly opened Pharmacy around mid-day and I am introduced to his wife who has a doctors clinic just next door. His brother says that they opened the pharmacy because there wasn’t one in a large radius and they were already receiving great success. After spending some time with the family, we swap our 50cc scooter for his brothers beefier 150cc motorbike and get on our way to a remote inhabited temple, little did I know who or what actually lived there. This video shows what we found…
The man that you heard yelling was a holy man who, like a priest had a pretty intimate relationship with god and spent most of his time with people in the temple. They could ask their questions, fears or desires to be communicated with their god and he would send the message by chanting rhythmically.
We return to his brothers to have a delicious home made fish curry lunch, swap bikes, say goodbye and begin our long journey back home.
By the time we return I can barely feel my ass but I choose to keep it a painful secret. I inform Paresh that this is going to be my final night with his family and that I would continue back to Goa first thing in the morning. Samir catches wind of this and kindly asks if it’s possible to have me stay in his house for a night. It seemed to make sense considering Samir’s house was actually closer to the bus stop and we still had unresolved thoughts to address. I say a very gracious thank you to all of the family staying in Paresh’s house and give them a small koala gift. Mohan, the father then returns a photo of himself when he was younger lad and I still have that photo with my passport today. What I didn’t expect was what happened when I arrived at Samir’s house later that night.