Inna Derechey-Shukla - Tum hi ho | Only you. The love story based on real events

Editor Alisa Kartyshova

© Inna Derechey-Shukla, 2020

ISBN 978-5-4496-0454-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

I’d been meaning to write our story for a while but I never dared to. Even though I think some people might find it useful. After all, sometimes it actually doesn’t take that much to make a first step. For example, to stop being afraid of closed doors, but instead, try opening them – perhaps, there is a beautiful world behind them, as beautiful as Incredible India.

– Hello, I’m Inna.

– Hi, I’m Vishnu.

Two people beamed at each other, and a moment of silence followed by. This is how it all began: the love of an Indian boy from Varanasi and a Russian girl from Moscow.

***

My way to India was long, complicated and thorny – the more interesting. I’d never intended to specifically go there – except later, but until then there were around 15—20 trips to other countries ahead of me. India seemed to be unknown, bizarre, strange – and possibly dangerous to life and everything else (it seems unbelievable now that I think about it). It is true that many people think that the words «India» and «civilization» can hardly combine in one sentence. The only sure way to find out how wrong it is – is to go there.

My friends invited me to join them to go to India to embrace adventures many times: going to Goa, to the sea, to inhale freedom, rushing on a bike along the Arabian coast. And every time I almost agreed, something would stop me, and at the very last moment I’d leave for Europe (or Thailand) instead. I guess it wasn’t the time yet.

Left to right: Monika Shukla, daughter. Inna Derechey-Shukla, Vishnu Sharan Shukla.

I worked as a head of PR-direction in a large publishing house in Moscow. It was absolute external well-being: interesting tasks, excellent team, good salary. However, still being a student at my heart, one big dream wouldn’t leave my mind: working in a digital creative Agency. And then, as if by magic, everything falls into place: after a series of a few not too complicated interviews, there I was, landing a job at one of the best places one can wish to work at. The latter meant multi-million global brands projects, parties on the summer terrace, interviews in the fashion media, amazing colleagues – hipster Smak capital, all I ever wanted. Fascinating, beautiful, very easy.

Nevertheless, as you know, there are two sides to every coin. Just like in the film «Duhless» with Danila Kozlovsky, there is always a lot of communication going on, a lot of work, constant deadlines, a lot of things that need to be done right now or, rather, you wanted them done yesterday.

Drastic times call for drastic measures, and one of them is finding yourself, your way, a new meaning, perhaps, in the least expected places. One way to do it, among many others, is to escape the crazy creative capital city.

One day, a young man from the SMM-Department (we were good friends, who not only worked together, but also could always have a heart to heart conversation) resigned. He had a ticket to Bali and then to India. As we kept in touch, he shared his adventures with me: he sent some photos, told warm stories about local cities and their traditions. He also told me that he really wanted to stay in India for the whole winter, and he recommended some books and movies, which I eventually watched, read and got very interested in.

In one of the letters he wrote: «Innok, why don’t you take a vacation in October and come over. I’ll show you Agra, Humpy, Mumbai and Gokarna. And Varanasi.

Especially now, it’s Diwali time, you can’t miss it.» Google helped me: it turned out that Diwali festival in Varanasi is like New year’s eve celebration in Russia. Google helped with other cities too: unfamiliar names revealed the beauty and grandeur of an unknown country. The main idea was skipping the typical holiday by the beach, and instead, getting acquainted with India from the inside by travelling by local transport, going off the beaten track, and having a knowledgeable person to guide me through. So, I had three weeks off and I was looking forward to going there, feeling very curious.

India welcomed me warmly, literarily: coming out of the plane in new Delhi, I stepped on the carpet. No kidding, a real carpet. I think it was then when I realized that everything was going to be fine.

The journey began in Rishikesh-perhaps the most famous city among yogis (and not only) on the banks of the Ganga. I went to my first yoga practice, and there we met some cool guys from Russia, with whom we would travel further. We travelled to the Ganga, listened to mantras, ate local dishes (all of which are very spicy, even those that don’t look like they have anything in them). During one of the sessions, an old man made music using Tibetan bowls, it felt like he was doing magic: first, the music rings through your body, and then the man kindly tells you about your life (how could he possibly know all this?!) and about your destiny. That’s like Ketut Liyer from «Eat, pray, love», only better. I was at a crossroads then. I knew that to find peace of mind, I needed to change something. For example, country. I asked him, «Where should do I live? "He looked surprised: «Where? Here in India, of course.» I only gaped at him. Everyone in our group asked him questions, but he did not give his answers as clearly and firmly as he did to me (probably left some room for manoeuvre, as all the wise men and the soothsayers would). Smiling but skeptical, the guys and I went to the Bank of the Ganga, getting a cup of spicy masala tea on the way. (The latter, by the way, in the first two days in India was almost my only food: it was the only thing that didn’t leave burning feeling on my tongue and cheeks.)

The next day we were headed to Varanasi, and Diwali festival was about to start. On the way to the night sleeper-bus guys said that the city of Varanasi was the same age as Babylon, and that it was the only one in the world that was more than five thousand years old, meaning that whilst Babylon is now mostly flattened ruins (and the not the most exciting or picturesque ones), Varanasi, on the contrary, is a city that truly lives. And once you are there, you realize that it will easily live to be five thousand years older or even more.

Varanasi is a sacred city for Hindus, much like Mecca for Muslims. Everyone wants to visit it, and even better – to make a circle of samsara there, having their ashes scattered on the waters of the Ganga. Yes, here for many centuries every day (around the clock!) they burn the bodies of the dead. I, a tourist, was a little scared then. My friends calmed me down-they told me not to worry, and promised that a local photographer, that they’d found through Couchsurfing, was going to meet us in Varanasi to show us around the city. «Well, if it’s a local, I guess I’ll be interested», I thought to myself. We arrived in Varanasi in the afternoon. When we checked in at the guest house, one of my friends said that we were to meet Vishnu, the said photographer from Couchsurfing – he was going to take us for a walk and then to watch the ritual of Puja.

There was a knock at the door. I don’t usually open it right away (neither in Varanasi, nor in Moscow, nowhere), but then the door, as it seemed, itself, swung open. The first thing I saw – an amazing white smile, which could only make me do the same- smile back. We stood in the doorway for a minute. Then it dawned on me that it was probably about the time to introduce myself.