“I’m Rocky.”
Our boatman stood on the docks—barefoot, “London rodeo” T-shirt, palms like oars. Bright eyes peered over his graying beard, hinting at more youth than his worn body otherwise suggested.
“Rocky … from Assi Ghat.”
Dani looked at him.
“Hi.”
We followed him onboard, while taking care to avoid touching the water that lapped at its shifting sides. His boat was a triangular wooden vessel, with makeshift paddles of bolted-together driftwood.
Rocky collected our fare. Dani tried offering him a tip by letting him keep the change, but Rocky shook his head.
“Boss Man takes half.”
He nodded toward the dock, to a man wearing a bright pink shirt, silver watch, and wayfarer sunglasses on his clean-shaven face.
Then, quieter:
“I do all the work.”
He flexed his back and laughed.
Right on cue, Boss Man walked over, collected Rocky’s earnings, and pushed our little boat off with the heel of his shiny boot.
~
Rocky dipped his paddle into the river, and soon had us moving downstream, rowing with practiced ease.
He saw me watching him.
“You try?”
Rocky held out the oars.
I reached out and took them.
Dani smiled as I carved the boat in circles.
Rocky laughed.
“Like this.”
He took the oars back and showed me how to straighten my path.
A hundred yards later, and my arms were already burning. My shoulders began to hunch.
“Here.”
I handed the oars back to, Rocky and reclaimed my spot with Dani at the stern.
~
I felt an item in my pocket stab me then, and I reached in and found the booklet given to us at the monkey temple.
Rocky saw it and at once snatched it from my hands.
“This is my god.”
He kissed the booklet, tapped it to his forehead. “Hanuman helped Rama when…”
He named a story I didn’t know.
I nodded politely.
~
As we went down the river, our boatman pointed at palaces lining the shore.
“King Jaipur.”
“King Udaipur.”
“King Agra.”
Then he pointed our attention to another building near one of these.
“This is my house.”
We couldn’t know for certain what room, or building he referred to, but we knew he didn’t mean house.
This gave Dani another chance to offer a tip, far from the eyes of his manager.
This time, he accepted.
Then he pulled to shore.
Rocky returned a moment later, a fresh water bottle in one hand, and his mouth oozing with crimson liquid he spat over his shoulder into the water.
Then he pushed from shore, and we continued our journey.
~
The municipal water pump towers rose from the river like sacred objects downstream
Rocky pointed at them.
“Holy Water.”
He mouthed the words in unspoken reverence as we passed.
I looked to shore where a group of men bathed unbothered in the river’s pollutants.
And just then, a child’s body drifted face-down past our bow.
Rocky angled his oars so he wouldn’t touch her.
He didn’t look away.
Neither could I.