Siddhartha comes to Boston

It was eleven forty when we finally began to descend towards Logan International Airport. The captain voice came in strong over the intercom. “The view of the city is visible due to the lack of cloud coverage; it will be out towards your left.” I pointed out Siddhartha’s window to the glow. It was late into the night and the Boston skyline was illuminated to its fullest. As we descended through the wisps of clouds I pointed out the river we were flying over. The city sparkled with entertainment and excitement, yet the lakes were calm and peaceful. As we continued to descend I watched as Siddhartha’s face became fully lit with curiosity and wonder. A slight smile crept over his face as his feelings changed as he allowed himself to take in how beautiful it all was. As our plane touched down we gathered our stuff that has seemed to disperse since I first set it down hours ago. I had met up with Siddhartha at his layover, with the very intent of making sure he saw the Boston lights as he came into Logan. As we walked threw the dead airport I couldn’t think of much to ask or say to Siddhartha. The look on his face seemed to answer all my questions and I felt if I was to ask anything he wouldn’t be able to formulate a response.

When we finally reached the car we both had officially frozen threw. We sat in the car with out hands up to the heaters looking out the windows at the stars and taking in how quite the airport seemed to be. As we drove home Siddhartha fell asleep, I decided then where I wanted to take him in the morning. I had been thinking about it all of the plane ride and still hadn’t thought of the perfect place. But at that time it came to me. I would take him to the Charles River, the one we flew over when we were landing. The river that looked so peaceful when everything else around it was bustling with energy and stress. It would be the perfect place to introduce Siddhartha to America, and Boston.

The next morning seemed almost like spring. The weather changed dramatically over night and the snow from the week before was gradually starting to melt away. The sun was out with hardly any clouds as far as the eye could see. Siddhartha woke up around nine. I was quite surprised that the time difference didn’t seem to have much effect on him. After a breakfast we drove down to the river. I explained to Siddhartha how beautiful this river was and how it was the same river we had watched from the sky last night.

As we parked and walked towards the river I felt Siddhartha begin to relax. Even for such a nice day it was still fairly early and hardly anyone was out yet. We sat on the bench that looked out towards the river. “What do you think?” I asked. He smiled and looked me straight in the eye, “reminds me of home, where I work as a ferryman, only this river is much bigger than the one I travel over and care of, it speaks differently as well.” What do you mean?” I asked him. “My river laughs, it laughs at my mistakes and my achievements, and it talks to me. It gives me knowledge and I’ve learned greatly from the river.” We sat in silence watching the water and the people walking up and down. We sat listening and watching for almost an hour. We watched the planes fly over some landing and some leaving; we watched the birds, and the families.

We went out to a local spot for lunch; we sat outside on the patio and watched the people walk by with as many shopping bags as they could possibly carry. People around Boston were more materialistic then anything Siddhartha had ever seen. Coming from India where he lives by a river rarely seeing people to a city bursting with skyscrapers, air planes, and business was a lot of change for him.

It was getting late into the day and it was a routine of mine to go to the gym every night. For me the gym was a place to relax myself and forget about everything in my life that was causing me stress. I thought that since I had taken him to the river where there was plenty of activity. I thought that the gym would be a good place where he could relax and take in everything he’d seen today.

When we arrived the gym seemed dead. Only a couple of people were in the entire building, which made working out so much better. I had given Siddhartha one of my Ipod’s to listen too while he was working out. We worked out for about an hour. I looked over at Siddhartha periodically through out the time we were there and I could see him staring blankly at the TV screens thinking of everything his eyes had seen today. Once and in while I could see a smile form on his lips and then disappear shortly after. I knew he was thinking of the people and family’s he had seen today. How they lived there everyday life, how they were connected to material things and without them they would simply not function correctly. He remembered the time in his life where those people used to be him. He remembered how much he’s learned since then about himself and about his life. He looked relaxed and at peace, as if he was mediating in a different way than he was used to. Instead of being under the tree next to the river or in his hut he was walking on a treadmill in the middle of a dead gym. Either way though he looked like he was at peace maybe perhaps even more than before, or maybe in just a different way.

As the days went by I continued to bring Siddhartha to the Charles River. He seemed to really enjoy looking and watching the activity of the different groups of people. Everyone takes something different from a river. The way that they see it in their own eyes and the things they hear it say and the way it laughs. When it was time for Siddhartha to leave and go back home he seemed upset to be leaving Boston. I felt as though he had grown used to this way of life and he really liked the change of pace form the river back in India. I watched his plane take off and I knew he was looking down at the Charles River as he rose further into the air. From the time he had first looked at the River and laps of water to now what he saw had defiantly changed. He had a better understanding of the city and I was glad for what I had gotten through to him in as little as the week we had.