Bhang Cookies
Bhang is a marijuana edible found in India that’s been used in the country since Vedic times. Hindu monks use it as medicine for meditation because it helps achieve mystical states as well as also reducing anxiety and providing contentment. It’s generally in the form of a smoothie (bhang lassi), though also sold as a pastry and the latter was what I treated myself to during an overnight train ride in India.
In Jaisalmer you’ll find your usual hippie backpackers perusing dusty streets for a taste of bhang lassi. It’s made by grinding cannabis into a thick paste mixed with herbs and spices then combined with traditional Indian lassi, a yogurt-based drink. The result is a delicious smoothie and one whereby upon finishing it, will make you feel real good.
At least that’s what I heard. I never went around to trying the specialty beverage prepared in tiny shops along the Jaisalmer Fort, decked out with carpets and pillows for a chill sesh. I was too busy camping under the milky way in the desert and wandering streets learning ancient history from an Indian traveler. But I did snag some cookies from a European.
You see, not only rich bohemians find themselves shot into pleasure’s paradise from the gentle drink. People from all over the world try it and I lucked out because new friends I’d made were leaving the country and decided to pass down several bhang cookies into my excited hands, warning me to eat half a cookie first as they’re fairly strong. I didn’t listen.
As my train started rolling out of the station heading further east, I settled into my top bunk under a thin white sheet and ate two cookies. I felt proud I remembered to purchase snacks and have my headphones ready for musical blast off. Snuggled in my cocoon I started feeling the waves of euphoria immediately after my first piss trip. Suddenly the roar and jingle of train tracks beneath my body reverberated into my pores. I surrendered myself to the odd frenzy because despite the outside rumble I felt very peaceful. Noticing myself smiling I sat up to explore my surroundings with my eyes. A family of three met them and soon they were speaking in hand signals to me. They passed me several cups of chai then a samosa and I was thankful to have been seated with a generous family.
My reddening eyes didn’t deter their openness but I need feel a touch paranoid. That same anxiety I started feeling when I was close to quitting pot a few years ago came back into my life like an unwanted lover. I didn’t push it off me though. I embraced the emotionally sticky feeling by laying back down and closing my eyes. My body was exhausted and bhang reminded me to take care of myself with rest.
Eventually my attempts to sleep were in vain because the vortex of colours inside my head created visuals too appealing to look away. The only time I have ever hallucinated on weed was when I was first smoked it, but this time everything had the effect of a half-real cartoon. With eyes open the dark night was uninviting. But when my lids shut I explored the depths of a limitless creative imagination. As if I was drawing images with my thoughts onto the projection of an ethereal plane. I didn’t know what it meant but it made me happy.
This lasted a couple of hours until the shaking train lulled me to sleep. I woke feeling like I was hungover staring at puffy eyes and a sickly dry tongue in my compact mirror. I wasn’t ready for another day of navigating unknown streets but at least my body wasn’t exhausted.
In India, cannabis is sometimes related to Shiva who is said to have enjoyed his pot. And this magic was certainly felt. It’s a lighthearted and joyful substance that can connect you to your body and mind and if you’re open and aware, and it can connect you to deities (mythical renderings of your own soul-body experience). My own high wasn’t as bodily numbing as other edibles I’ve eaten in Canada, but the perceptions and transcendental thoughtlessness was similar to a DMT trip. Inexplicable without intention, but with an aura of profound nature. I didn’t feel like I needed the rest of the cookies when I came down so I donated them, the magical allure stayed with me for days.
What I have always loved about India is its lack of drinking culture and lack of a glamorization of drug abuse. Snorting lines of mdma just isn’t as popular (except maybe in Goa). And it’s because everyone is naturally high and living to the full potential of their senses. Speaking as they wish, singing and dancing when they want to (though sexual repression is a huge exception). With this in mind, I didn’t see the necessity of needing to get high in a country that doesn't pursue escapism.
I didn’t need acid to have my shadow self unearthed in that holy, sacred land. I didn’t need the bhang cookies either. It was just as fun thing to do, which was always my excuse for doing drugs. But when I ate the cookies, I realized this wasn’t a casual high, it was medicine.
If you’re seeking out bhang for yourself, give yourself some time beforehand to understand why you want to take part in this old practise. And please buy from a government approved shop- you’re still purchasing a laced drink (or food) from a stranger so ere on the side of caution. Stay off the streets, be safe..you’ll be loopy for hours.
