LETTER FROM…Rishikesh, India

The author (and BF, in sunglasses) making an offering to Hindu deities. Story by Jordan Porter, a Toronto fashion writer, who is on a year-long trip around the world.

While travelling in India, the Boyfriend and I decided we couldn’t miss out on the famous Ganga—no, not that kind of ganga, naughty readers—so we packed for a trip on the Rishikesh Express and headed to the Land of Aummm to experience the sacred river in all its glory.

Set along its banks, in the foothills of the Himalayas, Rishikesh is a holy city, home to many a saffron-robed monk. As it’s the “World Capital of Yoga,” you can tap into your cosmic consciousness through the teachings of Vedanta at the Ashram Brahmavidyapeetham, or find a little inner peace in one of the many yogic retreats dotted along the river’s banks, as The Beatles famously did in 1968, penning over 40 songs during their stay.

While we opted out of the Ashram in favour of comfier quarters, we did take the opportunity to release baskets into the mighty river as an offering to the Hindu deities. We dipped our toes in the Ganga, an act said to cleanse you of your sins, and meditated under the supervision of a yoga master. By the end of our stay, the Boyfriend and I both agreed, we felt our bodies relax, our troubles not so worrisome, and our state of mind a little more ob-la-di, ob-la-da.

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