What am I doing here?

       I started taking lessons in Hindi, but had a feeling that that was not all I was here for. I was searching for something. I had no positive feelings about religion, yet I was in the middle of the holiest places on earth. One day a young boy handed me a brochure of a man teaching yoga. Not hatha yoga, but other kinds. So for six months I sat with him several hours every day, took Hindi lessons, and meditated. It wasn't doing the trick. But I felt that I was on the right path.
       Back during the trio trip we had gone to Kenchi to see a holy woman. Before we left on the trio trip to India I asked Jenny what I should talk to with this woman if we met her. Jenny said to pretend that she was god and ask her anything you want to. Well, at that time I was still stuck on the hiking-New-Zealand idea, and the only question that I could think of to ask god was "Where is the most beautiful place in the whole world?" Now really. How lame is that? So we got an audience with god, and I went to ask the question, and I knew. I didn't open my mouth. I knew everything. For a brief second I felt that I was flooded with an indescribable amount of space. Damn if I can describe it. There was nothing to ask.
So, during this time of Hindi lessons, Yoga lessons and meditation I knew that there was something else out there.

I eventually got tired of the yoga teacher, meditated until I got sick, and kept up with the Hindi lessons, smoked many a chillum with itinerant babas, boated the Ganges, bathed in the Ganges, did 108 Hanuman Chalisas, had chai every morning as the sun rose on the steps of the ghat. Then I went to Nepal to chill out before heading back to the states. Then back to India. Back to Varanasi. What was I doing? What was I doing here?