After getting married, I took what I called the "Big Trip." Two months, around the world. It sounded exciting when I said it out loud. And it was. But there was something else just beneath the surface. I left my job. I didn’t really know what I was doing next. I just knew I wasn’t staying where I was.
India was one of my stops. I visited a place called Rishikesh. People say things about that place, like you go there to find something. I didn’t know if I believed that or not. I just went.
There’s a bridge in Rishikesh called Laxman Jhula. It hangs over the Ganga and moves a little when you walk across it. There are always people on it. Locals, travelers, bikes squeezing through, even the occasional cow. It’s loud and busy, but somehow still feels quiet at the same time.
I remember stopping in the middle of it. I leaned on the side and looked down at the water. It was moving steadily. It didn’t look rushed. It didn’t look lost. Just moving. Constantly moving.
In that moment, I sort of felt like the river Ganga.
I stood there longer than I thought I would. Just staring down at the water. Thinking, but not really thinking, if that makes sense. Maybe I was just trying to feel something. Or maybe I was waiting for some kind of clarity or epiphany.
A man came up next to me. I didn’t notice him at first. He looked out at the water too.
Then he said, “Find what you’re searching for?”. It was as if we'd known each other for years.
That was it.
I can’t remember now if I answered. I don’t even remember if I looked at him. It didn’t feel like a question I could answer.
He walked off. Just disappeared back into the crowd.
I stayed there a bit longer. In that moment, there was no epiphany. No big realization. No plan, but that question sat with me.
I think about it more now than I did then. Back then, I thought I needed an answer. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s just something you carry with you through life. Something you never truly answer.
I look back now and I don’t think the stranger even waited for an answer.
And maybe that’s Bromaad.
It isn’t the answer. It’s the running water beneath the bridge. Steady. Always moving.
It isn’t the answer.
Perhaps it’s just the beginning.
~Shaun S.