Sadhus, or Babas, as they are commonly known, come in literally thousands of shapes, sizes and styles. Some as plump as the finest fattened Christmas goose, whilst others are as wiry as the leanest purebred greyhound and then is everything in between. Some Babas will steal the eyes out of the back of your head while you are looking straight at them, smiling, laughing and joking. Whilst others will happily share their last chillum of buthi (meaning herbs and in slang ganja) and cup of chiya with you around a warm fire on a cold morning on the side of some desolate hill, in your common quest to find Bhagawan (God), or just to get a little more stoned before it’s time for breakfast.
Many things can be said about these holy men, but never before have I found a group of ‘holy men’ that so honestly represent their society; both its positive and negative characteristics, and more than that – would never, not for a second, dream of considering to apologize for the way they are – for “Baba is an unlimited man”!
In the beginning, with my innocence (or ignorance?) of things and trusting only my ‘backpackers bible’ – Lonely Planet – to be the true word of God, I used to think that all Babas were the same and that they all did the same things and followed a blue guy who rode around on a cow. Oh Lord, how wrong was I.
Since those early (and innocent days), I have learned that there is more to both it and them than being just a Baba ji. There are Shiva Babas and Ram-Sita Babas, Kali Babas, Aghory Babas, Bhola Babas, Naga Babas, Italian Babas, German Babas, American Babas, Hairy Babas, Smelly Babas, or, in short, every sort of a Baba. The list is truly endless. Long gone are the days when I believed that the only time a Baba was not a Baba was when he was a Swami. And them I only knew due to their personal cleanliness, refraining from the classical ritual and past-time of chillum smoking. Also, that they no longer drank milk with their chiya and spoke a near lost language called Sanskrit. The Baba world is a complex society of many different types. Not just with those that follow a certain God, Lord Shiva for example. Even within this group of Babas is another hierarchy.
After watching the words ‘tradition’ and ‘culture’ that were once so rich in many now developed countries disappear with things like progress and technology and work, I found comfort in this group of people that epitomize those two ‘important’ words. Soon, in the not so distant future when that same progress catches up here, will these people start to become a faint memory or just a rumor of some wild, bearded and dreadlocked holy men living in caves in the hills crying “Om Nama Shivaya!” at the moon?
Many things can be said about these holy men, but never before have I found a group of ‘holy men’ that so honestly represent their society; both its positive and negative characteristics, and more than that – would never, not for a second, dream of considering to apologize for the way they are – for “Baba is an unlimited man”!
In the beginning, with my innocence (or ignorance?) of things and trusting only my ‘backpackers bible’ – Lonely Planet – to be the true word of God, I used to think that all Babas were the same and that they all did the same things and followed a blue guy who rode around on a cow. Oh Lord, how wrong was I.
Since those early (and innocent days), I have learned that there is more to both it and them than being just a Baba ji. There are Shiva Babas and Ram-Sita Babas, Kali Babas, Aghory Babas, Bhola Babas, Naga Babas, Italian Babas, German Babas, American Babas, Hairy Babas, Smelly Babas, or, in short, every sort of a Baba. The list is truly endless. Long gone are the days when I believed that the only time a Baba was not a Baba was when he was a Swami. And them I only knew due to their personal cleanliness, refraining from the classical ritual and past-time of chillum smoking. Also, that they no longer drank milk with their chiya and spoke a near lost language called Sanskrit. The Baba world is a complex society of many different types. Not just with those that follow a certain God, Lord Shiva for example. Even within this group of Babas is another hierarchy.
After watching the words ‘tradition’ and ‘culture’ that were once so rich in many now developed countries disappear with things like progress and technology and work, I found comfort in this group of people that epitomize those two ‘important’ words. Soon, in the not so distant future when that same progress catches up here, will these people start to become a faint memory or just a rumor of some wild, bearded and dreadlocked holy men living in caves in the hills crying “Om Nama Shivaya!” at the moon?
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