Reacquaintance with the Holy Land

Added on 18.11.2008

I am overjoyed to be back in India.

As I travel in the backseat of a car being driven from Pune airport to the town of Lonavla, about 50kms away, I scribble down the images and impressions before my eyes....

Friendly chaos.  Bikes.  Horns.  Fumes.   Dust.   Saris.  My driver scrambles and ambles our car to try and get every inch further down the heavily traffic-jammed single/double/triple-lane (??)  road at every intersection.  Families on bikes.  Squatting by the roadside - it is a whole 33 minutes into my journey before I see my first black bum!  Huh.  There must be more inside toilets in this neck of the woods!  Wooden wagons and painted carts stacked high with apples or oranges, a white-turbaned owner in no hurry to push his wares across the street in front of us.  Dusty.  Dirty.  I can feel the grime building under my fingernails already. 

But despite all this, I cannot wipe the smile from my face.  To return to this bitter-sweet chaos is music to my ears and grace to my soul.

Flower-adorned ricksaws.  Tinsel and lace, bells and whistles - whatever takes your fancy literally!  And cows.  Cows.  Cows.  Not so many on the roads though.  Skinny goats, chomping their way through piles and scatterings of rubbish.  Ahhh, some eucalypts!  Their familiar aroma doesn't have a hope in hell of reaching my nose in this traffic.  My window is down and I'm right in the thick of it. Pooh - that's definitely fresh cow shit!

School kids dressed smartly in pearly-white (don't-ask-me-how) uniforms.  Matching socks.  Neat hair.  Marching along in twos and threes.   Coconut palms now litter the roadside bush.  More green, less dust.

At an intersection, a beggar comes to my window.  He wears a white crocheted skull-cap. His eyes are shining - that quintessential sign of devotion.  He talks of Ma.  He grins Ma through motley, caramel-stained teeth as he raises his fingers to his mouth, in signal of food.  I only have 500 rupee notes in my bag.  I feel harsh saying no and avoiding his eyes and try to give him a smile and nod of my head instead.  He keeps trying.  Bless him.  We drive off.  I watch as he scampers to approach the next car. 

Traffic starts to thin. Horns blow only every (I'm counting...) 5 seconds.  Signs are everywhere.  "God's Carrier" is the orange and purple-painted truck in front of us.  "Happy Journey".  "Soul Curry".  "Sprite - Human Fuel".  "Chaksa Clean & Hygienic Family Restaurant".  "Homes with Blissful Beauty".  They just love their English.

Peeling cement temples.  Concrete construction everywhere.  Shanty towns.  Doorless shacks.  Outside fires.  Eat, play, love - all in the dirt. Kids in red.  Women in everything.  Gold.  Turquoise.  Magenta.  Jade. 

Lonavla 51.  Mumbai 151.  "Welcome to the express way - please do not stop."  No chance!  I wind the window up, settle back and enjoy the ride.

Added on 08.05.2008

These writings are about my experiences during the time I lived in Thailand and India, from July 2007 to February 2008 ~ enjoy!

Namaste India

Added on 13.02.2008

I didn't know exactly when I would be leaving India, but I knew that I would know it when the time came.  And that time is now.  After nearly 6 months, this will be my last blog from India.

Since the end of the yoga retreat, I've been lucky enough to be able to stay on at the Satsanga Retreat centre, living in the homely atmosphere created by inspirational owners Olaf and Jodi, and in the company of my beautiful friend Jane from Yoga Thailand days.  (Unbeknown to me, Jane is a regular guest at Satsanga and our meeting-up was a fantastic surprise!)  We have had some great times relaxing around the table at breakfast and in the evenings, sharing laughs and singing songs - who would have guessed Walzing Matilda was such a hit!  After some pretty intense retreat experiences of late, I've been very happy living simply (read being lazy) and planning nothing else besides embracing the early-morning sun from my yoga mat each day.  Then shortly afterwards gasping for breath under a cold-water shower - something I'm not sure I will ever be able to embrace!  Ah, the fun and paradox of living in India. J 

But on the weekend as I was riding my yellow canary (scooter) down the familiar coconut palm-fringed laneways, reflecting on the comfortable state of my mini-life here in Goa, I became conscious that, for the very same reasons that I love it, it was also time to go.  I was ready to say goodbye to India.  And so, I have had my last masala chai at the German Bakery,  handed-in the keys to my yellow canary and kissed my last Indian cheek.  There's nothing more I can say for now, I'm all out of words.  Its time to rest my senses for a while and return to the west, though I'm sure the perspectives and insights will arise once again. 

In departing, my final word to India is - namaste -  I bow to you.  India, you have my deepest respect and gratitude for all that you are and all that you've given me.

Silence

Added on 28.01.2008

My first day of silence! No talking for three days.  Being around others, the first thing I notice is how inclined I am to try and connect, make eye contact or give a smile.  It goes against my nature to go into complete shut-down.  Just as well we can still look and smile.  Interesting to watch how others are coping.  Mark avoids my eye contact.  He's frowning.  I can see pain on his face.  Tough-going perhaps.  Olive always smiles back at me.  We don't need words.  We are thinking the same.  Kierstan gives me a big, big hug hello.  It is suddenly comfortable, and nice, to hold eye-contact instead of feeling like looking away.  There is beautiful relief in not having to talk.

I notice lots of little details around me.  The leaves on the trees.  The rough roof tiles.  The colours of the curtains.  And noises too.  The birds chirping.  Bollywood music playing next door.  I wonder what the words mean? Something's scratching in the roof.  Hope its one of those squirrels and not a rat!  The wind.  My tummy's girgling.  These are the sounds of silence.  Why I can almost hear the cogs of my mind ticking!

You know, I'm really happy right now.  I think its the happiest I've been.  Hmmm.  What's happy?  Happy, happier, happiest?? It is superflous to just being. 

Wow, eating is a total sensory experience!  My porridge is very delicious.  It is easier to eat less when you're not talking.  No one to take your distraction.  Chewing every mouthful.  I think how my Pop used to do this.  I notice gradually how full I'm getting.  The automatic response to take seconds because others are still eating their brekky isn't there.  I can stop now.  I feel nicely satisfied.  My chai is soothing but too hot - shit, I've burned the roof of my mouth (again). 

I like this idea of silence.  Great to just be.  Being still, with yourself, without the chatter of everyday life.  Makes me realise just how much we 'talk' for the sake of it.  The hours seem to pass so slowly. Time takes on a new richness.  Solitude is bliss.  Peace.

I think about that poem I learned when I was six.  My favourite.  Right now it takes on a new level of significance.  I remember it well, it goes like this:  "Come sit down beside me, I said to myself, and although it doesn't make sense, I held my own hand as a small sign of trust and together I sat on the fence."

About the above - I thought I'd step into the workings of my mind and share some of the inner experiences I had during three days of silence on yoga retreat.   This "Nat who loves a chat" survived, in fact I'd say that I thrived in silence.  I would like to thank and acknowledge Emil Wendel and Sue Pendlebury, the amazing teachers on 'Beyond the Asana' for their love and guidance.  And also to 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, that's me, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21 and 22 for sharing, believing and being. 

Its a Goa

Added on 09.01.2008

Ending our short flight from Bangalore, the Jet Airways pilot announces that the outside ground temperature is currently 34 degrees as he welcomes and wishes us a pleasant stay in Goa.  Halleluiah.  Its hot and there are beaches.  Before we even touch down, I know I'm going to love Goa.  I'm traveling with the delightful Tanya and Rupoli, a couple of girls I met in Mysore (actually, it turns out that Rupoli and I met at a yoga workshop in Byron Bay in 2006) who own Yoga Hawaii, of all the beautiful places in the world.  The casual, laid-back feel of Goa hits us straightaway.  We see plenty of westerners in holiday-mode, cruising around on scooters, hats and sunnies, girls dressed in shorts and singlets.  After having to ˜cover-up" elsewhere in India, it seems strange seeing females openly baring shoulders and legs.  And I'm far from being a prude, but it makes me feel a bit awkward.  Funny what you get used to!  As we drive from the airport on bitumen roads that are virtually pothole-free, the first glimpse of the blue water of the ocean brings tears to my eyes.  I've been missing it like you wouldn't believe.

Goa is India's smallest state yet is arguably its most famous, known for images of coconut-palm beaches, full-moon parties, trance-music and its delectable fish curry.  On the December full moon I got to experience it all!  After dinner (though it probably wasn't fish curry on this particular night) I headed out to the Nine Bar in Anjuna for a taste of Goan-trance and dance with yogi partners-in-crime Carole and Mario.  What a hoot.  Picture a heap of westerners, mostly high or drunk or both (except for us) dancing in an open-air red-earthen pit, gazing up at a glowing full moon and a starry-eyed DJ in a booth, pumping out manic beats.  Each of us loves music (and happily admits to dancing around our own loungerooms every now and then) and before long, we were shuffling, jumping and sweating along with everyone else.  It was one big dusty mosh pit.  But alas the all-night raves that Goa was once famous are a thing of the past - even India has caught onto public noise-legislation these days - and so at the stroke of 10pm the music stopped dead and we hobbled out.  However, the lure of the ocean and the light of the full moon was a temptation too beautiful to resist.  Traversing our way down a dusty path in the dark, we managed to find a secluded spot along the coastal cliff out, of the eager eyes of the locals, to end the night with a skinny-dip!  A truly memorable first-swim in the oceans of India!           

My home for the end of December and start of January is the Purple Valley Yoga Retreat centre, located in Assagao, central Goa.  Like most of Goa, its an old Portugese-influenced villa positioned along a narrow, windy laneway laced with pink and purple bougainvilleas, white-washed column fences and lion statues.  You could be mistaken for being in Europe.  The sloping, tree-covered (including eucalypts - ahhh) property is complete with an ayurvedic treatment hut, swimming pool and looming at the base, a huge white pavillion that serves as a glorious yoga shala.  Yes, it sounds beautiful and it is.  It gives us a sense of seclusion from the usual Goa-scene and so we call it "the bubble".  Sharath (of the Ashtanga Yoga Research Institute, Pattabhi Jois' grandson) our retreat teacher arrives shortly after me and it is great to be in his company outside of Mysore.  He looks refreshed and sparkly, having returned from a well-deserved teaching break to welcome his new little boy Sambo into the world.  He tells us we're his first ˜Mysore-style' class in four months - that's got to be a record for Sharath who works pretty hard keeping the ashtanga tradition alive. 

Plenty are drawn to Goa for yoga or meditation.  There's an interesting historical legend that might help explain it.  Apparently in the Mahabharata, the ancient Indian epical text, battle-weary Lord Parasurama longed for a peaceful spot fit for meditation and so, fired an arrow from the forests of the Western Ghats straight into the Arabian Sea.  There, between two rivers, like an island, was an idyllic piece of land, which is now Goa.  It definitely feels like an island.  The alluring sun and the sands of Goa provide the ideal backdrop for mystical experiences and offers a unique freedom and a lifestyle, very different to other parts of India.  I welcome Goa with open arms.