Course 3: Sanskrit and Vedanta Studies @ Krishnamurti Foundation India, Raj Ghat

Of course, education (in the bookish sense of the word) is also going on here.

 

Every day from 6:30 to 7:30 PM in Swami Chidanandaji’s room I have a class with him. Our classes switch off on a daily basis; one day is Sanskrit, the next day is Vedanta. Our Sanskrit classes are just me and him, but the Vedanta classes… once people learned that we were having them, they decided to join (with permission) too. But there is one class every day regardless, and it is quite interesting.

 

In Sanskrit class we are reading the Vaalmeeki Raamaayana (in Sanskrit, of course). This is quite possibly the greatest epic ever written. It is about the adventures and quests of Rama, the son of Dasharatha and prince of Ayodhya, written by Sage Vaalmeeki. It is so interesting in the original language that it was written, because not only is it all written in perfect meter, but it is so detailed and dispassionate! It is interesting to see the differences between the original work and all the remakes after it. Many remakes are made with such devotion to Lord Rama that they fail to portray him as a man, ultimately transforming him into a God and praising him thus. But the original Vaalmeeki Ramayana simply portrays the attributes of Rama, as a man… a perfect man, but a man nonetheless. Dispassionate, truthful, and never ceasing to be interesting, Sage Vaalmeeki writes such a great story! Of course, the ultimate goal of the class is to learn Sanskrit from the reading, and naturally that happens too, because within the story there are so many vocabulary words and usages of different tenses, etc.

 

I’m fascinated by Sanskrit…

 

Next comes our Vedanta class. Vedanta is a subject that I have been deeply involved in my whole life. Vedanta is the culmination of the teachings of our most ancient scriptures, the Vedas. It is simply a stating of the Truth that underlies all of creation. The difference between the way I have been studying it since I was young and since I came here is in the approach to knowledge of any kind. I am approaching Vedanta as an “exploration” now rather than seeking an end, which would have been liberation from the cycle of birth and rebirth. I am learning that it is in the exploration that the freedom lies, not in expecting a goal to be fulfilled… for it is in that very expectation you are caught up in the future, and in trying to measure how much you have achieved, you get caught up in the past... which inevitably takes you away from being free and in the present.

 

Each Vedanta class, Swamiji takes a new topic and discusses it for one hour. It is always an interesting discussion, and it leads to intense contemplation on the topic later. I am glad that Swamiji is my teacher, for he is extremely intelligent/smart and very fun to listen to. He always makes jokes and will never let you feel bored. I like his classes, because I am in fact learning a lot in them.

 

Never a dull moment here!

Adventure 11: Holi

The day started out pretty slowly – I woke up, way later than my normal standards, got ready (which included brushing my teeth… and that’s it, and I’ll tell you why in a second), and went to breakfast at around 9:00 AM. Today was Holi, which is the popularly known harvest festival where water and colors are thrown at each other, making everyone look like artwork at the end of the day, or color-throwing session, whichever happens to come first. Holi signifies the end of the non-harvest season, as it happens to be getting warmer at this time of year. And when I say warmer, I mean HOT.

 

Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, there was a little boy named Prahalaad, whose father, Hiranyakashyap, was a ruthless tyrant. Hiranyakashyap demanded that everyone in his kingdom worship him as god, for he believed himself to be even greater than the gods. He had received several boons by penance enabling him to be virtually indestructible, for he could not be killed by any mortal, inside or outside, on the ground or in the sky, during the day or during the night, or by any weapons (why he didn’t just ask to not be able to be killed at all goes beyond my limited capacity for reason and logic. Maybe it was against the rules of asking boons, so he wasn’t allowed to? Maybe he just didn’t think of it? Maybe he wanted to make his invulnerability sound really cool? It is truly beyond me. If it were me, and I wanted not to die, I would have just asked for invincibility. Period. Or immortality, whichever came into my head first at the time). Prahalaad, however, was a devotee of the god Vishnu. Hiranyakashyap was very jealous and tried in many, many ways to make Prahalaad switch over (yes, conversion happened even then) and worship him. However, Prahalaad had perfect faith in lord Vishnu, or Narayan, as he is known as in the story. So Prahalaad worshipped Narayan, against the wishes of his father, and when the father knew he could not convert his son, he decided to kill him. To make a long story short, I will just say that Hiranyakashyap tried to kill Prahalaad using many methods, one of which was his sister, Holika, after whom the festival is named. Holika had a boon that she could not be burned by fire. So the idea was, take Prahalaad in lap, sit in fire. Prahalaad burns, Holika does not. On said date of burning, Holika took Prahalaad up in her lap, and sat in the fire. Prahalaad took the name of Narayan, and closed his eyes. Holika burned, Prahalaad did not. Thus on the night before Holi, many huge bonfires are started, representing the night that Holika burned, and the one who had faith in the lord was saved.

 

Anyways I would get on with details about my day, but I’m guessing some of you want me to finish the story of Prahalaad first. So what happened was, to keep the long story short (it’s not that long anyway, but to make a short story even shorter), the final way that Hiranyakashyap tried to kill Prahalaad with was a red hot pillar. He wanted to tie Prahalaad to the pillar, and let the boy die because of the heat. When he was about to do it, the pillar burst open and a half-man-half-lion creature erupted out of it. This was one of the avatars of Vishnu, called Narasimha. Nara means man, and simha means lion, so the name is rather fitting. Since Narasimha was not wholly a man, and not wholly an animal, and thus also not a mortal, he fulfilled the first criteria for killing Hiranyakashyap. Next, he took Hiranyakashyap to his palace and brought him into its great doorway. Thus they were neither inside nor outside. He placed him on his lap, thus letting him neither be on the ground nor in the sky. It was evening-time, so neither day nor night. And finally, he unsheathed his massive claws, which weren’t weapons of any kind, and ripped apart Hiranyakashyap’s belly. Thus ends the story of Prahalaad.

 

Around 9:45 AM, Kalpana and I departed from our breakfast location where we were greeted by Reeta Didi’s daughter Nishita. She put some color on both of us and we on her, and then we made our way to the other side of the Varuna River, where the kids of the Rajghat Besant School (RBS) were supposed to be playing Holi from 9:00 AM to 10:30 AM. We arrived there around 10:15 AM or so, and when we did, it was the most spectacular sight. Kids covered with all different colors on the edges of this HUGE amphitheater pit that they have at RBS, and in the middle was the largest mud fight I have ever seen. I had not taken a bath yet for this reason alone – I was going to get super dirty, and I knew it. So we started to walk down towards the pit. As we were walking down the steps, we were greeted by teachers first, got some color on our faces, and then we were greeted by the youngest kids. The progression was kind of funny – teachers first, then youngest kids, and then onwards up until the high schoolers. The youngest kids greeted us with some water and some color, squirting us with baby water guns and such. It was really cute, but when we moved on from there it became a true brawl. I made my way into the center of the amphitheater, and there the older kids were playing, including the kids that I teach music (a cappella, what else) to there. They saw me and basically loaded me up with water and color. I don’t know what happened to Kalpana after that; I was lost in the crowd of kids, as was she. And we were all slowly becoming the same color – mud.

 

I was watching the mud fight for a while, and during that time I got a lot of water and color thrown at me (and threw a lot at others as well)… but the mud fight looked so fun. I wanted to be part of it, but did not know how to join, as I had never been part of a mud fight before. Finally Shayur, who was also there, pushed me into the center of the mud puddle and I slipped and fell. And it was the best feeling ever. And it tasted good… The very second that I fell into the mud, about 10 kids from the 7^th grade (and probably other grades too, though the 7^th graders are the ones I know, because they are the ones I teach) piled up on me and smashed mud on my head, my neck, and basically every part of me that they could see. It was probably the most fun experience I have had, for many reasons. One, the ground was so soft that no matter how many times you fell it didn’t hurt. Two, it was mud, so when you ended up being submerged in it, it felt so natural… Three, it was all kids, and kids really know how to have fun. Nobody felt left out at all, and every single person was having fun. Including me. And nobody got hurt. When I got up again, I looked like everyone else – essentially a mud monster. And from then on until about 11:00 AM, when they finally stopped playing, I was as much a part of the fun as anybody else, and it felt so… good. I felt free, because I had nothing on me but my clothes, and I was so dirty (and when I say dirty, I mean covered with dirt… not dirty as in unclean, but take it how you will) that it didn’t matter what I did – I would still look and feel the same. So, without any inhibitions, I plunged into the festivities. At the end, I was soaked, covered in mud/color, hungry, exhausted, and indescribably happy. We climbed up the steps of the amphitheater and as soon as we got up there they served us chai (tea) and snacks. It was so hot and sunny outside that the mud that was all over my body started to dry up right away. I was thankful to be eating and standing in the sun.

 

From there, Shayur, Kalpana, Kevin, and I made our way to the guest house where we met Hema Aunty and Swamiji. We chatted for a bit, and then decided to bathe in the Ganga. The night before, we had made our way to a sandbar in the middle of the Ganga near Raj Ghat in a boat and spent some time there observing the many bonfires lit up along the banks of the river, because the night before Holi it is traditional to light a bonfire to symbolize the time when Prahalaad was saved from the fire by his faith in Narayana, and Holika burned. The sandbar was so nice and peaceful, and in such a perfect location, that we decided that was exactly where we would go to bathe. However, it had taken us one hour by boat to reach the sandbar. We decided to walk, as we discovered that there was a path by land as well, though not directly to the sandbar, but close enough where one might just be able to wade the last part of the walk towards it. So we started walking, and made it to the closest point (about 40 or 50 feet) away from the sandbar. Shayur and I saw some people bathing in the river there, and he told me “the safest thing to do when in a foreign land when it comes to getting into a river is look for where the locals bathe” so we started the journey through the water there. The locals there told us that we wouldn’t be able to make it across, it was too deep. Fortunately we are among those lucky few who know how to swim, so we started to swim across the river. Interestingly, we noticed as we looked back, we had a whole group of locals following us in a line, right where we had crossed. Our crossing, we assumed, gave them enough confidence to cross themselves. Anyways before they made it across, Shayur and I went to the other side of the sandbar and started to explore the water there, to see if it was indeed safe enough to bathe there. It was, and we got into the water.

 

I went to another location on the bank of the sandbar, and found a place where the meeting of sand and water had not been disturbed in what seemed like ages. I started to explore this little area, a world all on its own… with creatures I had never seen before, and the creatures of which were probably specific to this little formation only. The water was clearer than on the bank that we had come from at least, so I didn’t feel too bad about entering it. I played with the tiny fish that came up to explore my leg, dug a little sand with my foot and enjoyed the feeling of the sand giving way to my foot as it went deeper and deeper down, letting Mother Earth speak to me through her amazing grace. I called Shayur over, and we explored this world together, discovering more creatures we had never seen before, and becoming like little kids as they perform their experiments with nature formations they have never experienced before. We saw a little creature, about the size of my thumb, that resembled a lobster mixed with a grasshopper, with fins instead of wings. Though it was easy to catch, we decided to play with it a little. In playing with it we discovered that when it tried to get away from our hands, instead of swimming in the normal fashion with fins or even with a back-and-forth movement like a fish, it would barrel-roll away from our hands in the water, which apparently propelled it. This sort of movement was particularly fascinating, probably because we had never seen it before. This, I felt, is the definition of a true adventure.

 

We had to get back for lunch but none of us knew the time, and since judging by the sun it was just about lunchtime, we started to head back. On our way back we took a different route towards the KFI Rural Center Guest House where Kalpana and I would have our lunch. Shayur and the two uncles that came with us would then proceed from there to the KFI Main Guest House. On our way to the Rural Center, we walked through a village (which I had never seen before, surprisingly… despite the proximity to where I stay). In the village, the two uncles and Kalpana went on ahead because Kalpana was feeling a little nauseous. Shayur and I walked a little slower, taking in the village sights. It was truly fascinating, the transformation as we walked from total rural village (like you read about in the books) to semi-village with shops and whatnot, to something like township and finally to a brick road that would lead us back to the guest house.

 

On our way through the village a boy of about my age started talking to us, with slurred speech and a sway in his step. He put his arm around my shoulders and started to walk with us, and said his name was Sagar and he was pleased to meet us. He asked me where I was from, and I got away with saying “I’m from Delhi” (in these parts it is not the safest thing to announce that you are from another country, because people can flock you and are sometimes dangerous in numbers). His breath smelled strongly of something, but I couldn’t place the smell exactly, but I figured since it was Holi he was probably drunk on bhang. Bhang is a natural opiate that is a popular substitute for alcohol in India, though bhang can be found in almost anything, even food, especially on days like Holi and other religious holidays. It is good advice to not eat or drink anything from outside a trusted home base (if you don’t want bhang, that is) on or around such days.

 

We finally made it back to the brick road that would lead us back to our base, where Sagar left us and we continued on our path. At the crossroad where one path would take you to the guest house and one to the other side of the Varuna River, Shayur and I parted ways. I continued on towards the guest house to have lunch, and after lunch took the longest and most relaxing (and of course, most needed) bath I have ever taken.

Adventure 10: Varanasi, the City

A few days ago a brahmachaari came from Mumbai to visit Shayur and attend the completion of his purascharanam, which is a long, elaborate ritual at the end of which you have to feed some Brahmins… I don’t know too much about it, so I won’t try to explain. Anyways this brahmachaari’s name is Brahmachaari Samvid Chaitanya, so we call him Samvidji. I had never met him before, but when Shayur and I went to receive him at the entrance to the Krishnamurti Foundation I met him and we talked for an hour or so. Imagine a guy with a shaved head except for a little shikha in the back, which is just a little tail of hair in the back of the head, who laughs all the time, and pretty much resembles the Laughing Buddha (clothes and all). And speaks Sanskrit. That’s Samvidji. He’s hilarious, and is also always laughing himself. He was Shayur’s Sanskrit aachaarya (Sanskrit teacher) at the two-year brahmachaari course Shayur took that ended last September.

 

Today Shayur, Samvidji, and I made our way into the city for it was the end of Shayur’s purascharanam. We started by going to Kedar Ghat, which is on the other side of the city (as always), did some rituals in the Ganga, and went into Kedareshwar mandir. There we did some more rituals, offered our prayers, and left. After that we made our way to the Siddhi Vinayak Temple, which is located a little inside the city from Manikarnika Ghat, the funeral ghat. It is said that here, a cremation fire is burning 24/7. This is the traditional cremation grounds for Hindu families, because it is believed that it is most auspicious to cremate the dead at Manikarnika Ghat. And if one cannot cremate one’s dead here, it is said that even to bring the dead’s ashes here after cremation is enough to be very auspicious for the soul of the deceased. Interestingly, it is said that it is also most auspicious to bathe in the Ganga at Manikarnika.

 

We made our way to the Siddhi Vinayak Temple, for it was here that Shayur’s final ritual would take place. We said some incantations, and then he was ready. However, all 25 Brahmins had not arrived. One can always count on Indian Standard Time (IST, or sometimes DST for Desi Standard Time) when waiting for someone. Accordingly, all 25 finally showed up. However, the food had not arrived! How ironic. While we were waiting for the food, Shayur got a call from Kalpana saying that she, Chellam Aunty, and Josephine had arrived at Manikarnika Ghat with the help of Rita Didi in a boat, and they needed to know where to go. I was given the task of going down to the boat, retrieving them, and bringing them back up to the place… so I did. After bringing them over, Josephine started to feel a little uncomfortable, because being one of three women there, and the only white woman, she was not particularly prepared for the occasion. Josephine then left us for her hotel, where she was staying for 3 days before returning to Raj Ghat.

 

Finally the food came, and Kalpana and I helped Shayur serve the Brahmins, while Samvidji chanted some mantras. It was pretty awesome, actually. There isn’t much more to say about the food aspect of it – the people ate, they left, we cleaned up and then we left. Afterwards, Kalpana and Chellam Aunty sat in the shade a little distance from the river, while Samvidji, Shayur, and I made our way to the Ganga. We were at Manikarnika Ghat. I thought we were just going to go take a picture or something, and then be done with it, but Samvidji caught me by surprise when he said we were taking a full bath in the Ganga at Manikarnika Ghat!! So we stripped down to our boxers, and literally jumped into the river… and it was COLD. But once I was in, I didn’t want to get out, because a) I hadn’t swam in years, and b) it felt really, really good. Anyways we got out, and over our dripping boxers put back on our clothes. Both Shayur and I used our undershirts to dry ourselves a little first, which we then put on. It was so hot outside that this actually felt amazing. What an adventure! AND we all bathed at Manikarnika Ghat!!!! My clothes dried up pretty fast in the sun, and it was a great feeling to have bathed in the Ganga. I actually felt extremely clean.

 

We then walked back up to where Kalpana and Chellam Aunty were sitting. From there, all five of us made our way through the streets of Varanasi as we were really hungry. We stopped on the way for an orange juice from a street vendor. Let me tell you something about orange juice from street vendors. They’re AMAZING. Why? Because after putting 5 or 6 whole oranges into a metal machine that turns and juices the oranges into a big pot, they put a spoonful of masalas (spices) into each cup (for everyone who wants it), and then pour the orange juice from the pot into the cups. And then you drink it. And it’s just the best orange juice I have ever had, and since it was hot, it felt really good. Aftwerwards, we found a place to eat nearby, where Samvidji asked me to pick the food we ate, so I did. I picked some traditionally rich dishes, and we ate them, and were stuffed beyond compare. It was some of the best food I’ve ever eaten, or maybe I was just extremely hungry. One can never know.

 

Anyways, Samvidji basically told us that we all had to try paan. And I was totally game. But before paan, I bought a couple of laddoos, which are round, Indian sweets that are just scrumptious. I can’t explain how good those laddoos were. We all shared them and then moved on to the main street where we found a paan vendor. Paan is a combination of spices, and some other ingredients that resemble jelly but taste like sweet heaven, wrapped in a special leaf called a Paan Leaf. Also, it has digestive power, so people usually eat it after eating food. Now, Paan in Banaras is the most famous paan in the world. So famous, in fact, that there are songs about it. It is made with a special leaf that is smaller than normal paan leaves, and so fits easier in the mouth, and almost every man in Banaras (it seems) is chewing paan. Of course, their paan has tobacco in it usually, and other dirty-ish ingredients, so they not only get high, their mouths are always red in color, and they are always spitting red liquid out of their mouths, much like baseball players do in the west (though baseball players’ spit is not red, it comes from tobacco). What happens is, you chew paan for so long, and lots of spit accumulates in your mouth, and for the ones with tobacco in them, it is not the safest thing to be drinking that all the time, so they spit it out as often as needed. But everyone talks with what seems like a mouthful, and sometimes it gets annoying, but nobody seems to notice or care because everyone does it. So, we got a paan for each of us (without tobacco, of course). We enjoyed it very much (at least I did).

 

Then, moving on from eating laddoos and paan, we decided we would go to Kala Bhairava mandir. By rickshaw. So Samvidji and I sat in one rickshaw, and the other three sat in the other one. When we reached Kala Bhairava, we dismounted and prepared to go into the temple. Kala Bhairava is the “Guardian of the City,” a form of Shiva that has huge eyes, signifying his ever-watching state, and also his authority on right and wrong. Keep in mind that this is different from Kashi Vishvanaath, who is simply the ruler/owner of the city. I suppose ruler/owner and guardian are two different responsibilities. Anyways we made it into the temple, paid our respects, and then left. It was a rather awesome experience, because Kala Bhairava has this effect of humbling the devotee, which is a great thing if someone is trying to rid oneself of one’s ego. It feels good to have a huge watching guardian over you, because you feel like you have to act rightly all the time. But that’s a good thing.

 

 After we exited Kala Bhairava mandir, I was craving a lassi, because my experience last time had been amazing. As we made our way out of the web of streets that every temple in the city seems to be hidden within, we found a lassi stall. I hesitated, but then gave in to temptation and craving and asked the man how much a lassi would cost. He said five rupees for a small, and ten for a large. So I said to give me a small. Seeing that I had stopped, Samvidji also came over, followed by everyone else. I told them that they HAD to try a lassi in Varanasi, because it is just the best experience ever, served in an earthen pot and everything. So I had the first sip, and it was just as good as the first lassi I had had at Pehelwaan's. I was completely overwhelmed by good taste and smiles. The rest also tried one each, and they all loved it as much as I did. In fact, Samvidji even had another one. It was great!

 

We walked a little more through the gullies of Varanasi and Shayur and I noticed that every five or ten feet there was a door, not necessarily with its base on the ground, just randomly placed in the walls. We both wondered what was in those doors, or how one got into them. Or why they were even there. We passed one that was actually open, a door that was about three-fourths my height, and I looked into it as we passed. It reminded me of a world completely unexplored by mankind… Just inside it, in front there was a wall… there were two stairways, one leading to the left and one leading to the right, which didn’t seem like they could possibly lead anywhere, judging from the way the wall looked surrounding the door. But one can never know. I tapped Shayur on the shoulder and showed him because he had missed it and apparently he was reminded of the same idea. An unexplored world. He was just as tempted as I was to just jump inside and see where the door lead, but we restrained ourselves. I made a mental note to explore as many of these little doors as I could (no matter how dangerous; they make for excellent adventures) before I left Varanasi.

 

(I don’t know how many of you have played Zelda, but I feel like Link sometimes… I randomly pick up stuff here and there, keep it in my little cloth shoulder bag, and it comes in handy later on. And I carry around a flute everywhere I go… which for now acts as both the Ocarina and the sword… Sometimes my health is down, sometimes it’s up, sometimes I find things – like fruits – that restore it… It’s a strange but wonderful feeling to actually be the character you’ve always played as in video games...)

 

Finally we found our way out of the maze and saw the beautiful river Ganga. It was nearing sunset, so we decided to sit on the banks of the Ganga at a beautiful location on a bench under a big umbrella made of leaves. This umbrella concept is really famous in Varanasi. They are huge umbrellas, like the kind you see in America in peoples’ backyards covering their lawn tables or whatever, but made entirely of leaves. It’s a sweet concept. And they’re sturdy, no less. We discovered that we were sitting at Scindia Ghat. I don’t know the significance of this ghat, and neither did anyone sitting with me there. We talked for a long while, before we spotted Marc randomly walking along the ghats some distance from us.

 

I called out to Marc, and soon learned that he was heading home, by walking. By this time, it was around 5:30 PM, so I decided to go with him. My class would be starting at 6:30 PM, and I could not miss it! The rest of everyone said they would come by boat, so we bid them farewell and started walking. Many things happened on our walk home. One, I noticed how much attention white people receive from onlookers and people that they pass as they walk without actually wanting it. Everyone tries their bit of English, which usually consists of “Hello!” in a really annoying tone, and “Thank you!” and “Money?” (clearly asking for money, because of the ridiculous amount that foreign people have compared to them). Marc was handling the attention well, because I guess he was used to it, but there was a point when a kid from behind ran up to him and jabbed his knee from behind, which caught Marc by surprise (obviously), and then ran away back to his group of friends, making sounds like a dog. I think that was on purpose, just to scare Marc. Marc was relatively unperturbed, though he did mention, “That was strange.”

 

Another interesting thing that happened on the way back was our conversation. I learned that there are more people in the world who are interested in adventuring and such. He’s doing the same, but his motive is to write something about the city. He wants to write about the relation of the people to the Ganga, which I think is one of the deepest topics I’ve ever heard of. And I know he will do it justice, or at least come close. I was awed and inspired by his tale and his goal.

 

We exchanged pleasantries at the gate of the Krishnamurti Foundation Guest House, from which he went to his room, and I went to Swamiji’s class, right on time.

The Word “Explore”

The word explore is my favorite word, because to explore implies no motive behind an action. When you explore, you are not looking for any one thing in particular, you are not focused on the goal. You then start to enjoy the journey, which is as it should be. Exploring gives one a sense of adventure. When you are searching, and not exploring, then you are looking for a goal.

 

“Searching for the Truth,” which so many of us are eternally caught up in, for example, is a goal-directed movement, which will inevitably wipe out all enjoyment in the process. But if one is exploring the nature of Truth, then it is not a seeking of Truth (because the Truth is the Truth! It’s not going to change, or go away), but rather a movement that expands one’s own awareness, in which there is immense, immense joy.

 

Why should one explore, though? Because to explore is to have fun. To explore is to be young again (if you’re not already), pretending you’re on a safari and exploring the jungle or playing a video game and exploring some fantasy world. Except you’re not pretending. Explore your surroundings, there is so much more there, always, than meets the eye. Or the ear. Or the nose. Explore what it means to explore.

 

…And above all, enjoy the journey, because it is in the journey that the joy lies. Not in the goal.

 

To be engaged in exploration is to enjoy each moment in life. Start exploring today! Start exploring now!

 

Enjoy your moment!

The People I Have Met in Varanasi

I have met many people here so far, and they are all unique. And awesome. Let me talk about a few…

 

First of all, my cousin Raman’s wife’s sister Kalpana is here with her aunt, Who I call Chellam Aunty. Kalpana and I meet at mealtimes and around the Krishnamurti Foundation campus every so often. We chit-chat, and it’s a good time because I didn’t have to take time to get to know her, being family and all. And it’s sort of reassuring to know that family is here, because that takes some tension away, I don’t know how or why. But it’s great.

 

Next is my friend Shayur. He’s 27, from Kenya [but Indian], and just about one of the coolest people I have ever met. He is just adventuring around India, like me, and meeting cool people and collecting cool things along the way. He’s so interesting to talk to because he has this air of peace around him. He makes it seem like everything is just calm and quiet and that everything is “chill,” as he likes to say all the time. His accent is really interesting because it’s a mix of Britain (Kenya uses British English), Kenya (I don’t know what a Kenyan accent sounds like, but I’m just guessing, because he grew up there), India (he’s been in India for 3 years now), and America. So it’s really fun to listen to most of the time, and it sounds really chill. And it’s rubbing off on me. See? Chill. I feel like I am constantly learning from him. We have so much in common, it’s not even funny.

 

It’s interesting to notice that when you are constantly traveling, there are so many people you meet along the way that you click with right away, and there is no negativity between you. These are people who know you will be leaving soon or they will be leaving soon, and thus cannot hold any expectations from you. With this knowledge, you and the other are friends just for being friends. Literally. Though that sort of relationship seems to be there when you are in someone’s vicinity long-term, it almost always evolves into something with expectations. Can we try to explore a relationship in which we expect absolutely nothing from someone? What does that even mean? Perhaps we should experiment with ourselves. Can I be friends with someone just for being friends? Do I depend on the people I am friends with? Do they depend on me? Is it ok to have such a relationship?

 

Then comes, obviously, my teacher here – Swami Chidananda. Swamiji is such an interesting character. He’s always cool with everything. He is currently teaching me Sanskrit and Vedanta, about which I will get into more when I write about Course 3: Sanskrit and Vedanta Studies @ Krishnamurti Foundation India, Raj Ghat. Swamiji has a great sense of humor and never passes up an opportunity to tell a joke. I’m glad he’s my teacher, because he’s also a deep ocean of knowledge. When you mix that with a sense of humor and a laid-back personality, you get a really great guy.

 

Next comes a lady I have lots of interaction with but can never quite understand. Her name is Josephine, from Holland. She is a research psychologist by profession, and she has done some interesting/crazy things to herself in the name of research (maybe). I won’t go into them, but just know that they are pretty crazy, and they all mess with your mind. She is the most animated person I have ever met. Everything she says has a hand gesture attached to it, and she always tells jokes, though mostly not funny ones. I laugh though, not because the joke was funny, but because the silence after it is funny. Every time. She’s maybe in her 50s, I can’t tell and I don’t want to ask. Anyways she’s a great person to hang around, because there’s always something to laugh about with her.

 

Another lady I met here, though I have seen her in Toronto and in Chicago, is named Maii. She’s the most calm and controlled person I have ever met, whether it is because of age or because of wisdom it doesn’t matter. She is white, Canadian by descent. And absolutely fascinating, a great person to exchange a word with once in a while. She is extremely humble and her presence is often enough to calm people down.

 

Then there is a man here by the name of Marc. He is another fascinating character. He has such a sweet view of life. I don’t know how old he is, but if I had to guess, I’d say late 40s. He’s really trying to live in the present moment, and it inspires me to do the same. The conversations I have with him always leave me with an inspired and uplifted state. Some people just have that effect on you, I guess.

 

Another guy here is named Kevin, he’s 21 years old and at about the same stage of life that I’m in. He’s finished his third year of college and is taking a year off to explore the teachings of J. Krishnamurti. I want to find out more about him, but somehow even after talking to him, he’s just as mysterious. I like him though, he’s very interesting to talk to. Always has some neat insight or other, and I am always learning from him (just like everyone else!).

 

At the Krishnamurti Foundation’s Rural Center, there is a lady by the name of Rita. I call her Rita Didi, and she is basically my caretaker here. And she is phenomenal. I don’t know how she manages to take care of everyone here, but she does it. You always read about those people in ancient times who had mental techniques of just “knowing things” but you never actually see someone who does it. But she is one of those people. She’s so simple but so wise. I don’t know what else to say about her, but I figured it would be smart to introduce her at this point because I may write about her in the future.

 

Finally there is Hema Aunty. Hema Aunty fascinates me because she seems to be a living example of the teachings of J. Krishnamurti, in her own way. I have been (and will be) having discussions with her about experiments and explorations that I can try to find out what observing means, what listening means, what it means to watch oneself and one’s surroundings, what living in the present is all about. I am still exploring, but it is so fun to explore. It’s my new favorite word. And I’ll explain why in another post, I think.

Quest 14: Dr. Ram Harsh Singh

We made our way to BHU again, and this time we stopped at Sir Sunderlal Hospital near BHU’s Lanka Gate. In this hospital we hoped to meet Dr. Ram Harsh Singh, or Dr. R.H. Singh for short. He is a retired and extremely accomplished professor from the university, but a practicing Ayurvedic doctor in the university’s hospital. He is still a mentor for several PhD students. We went to his office, and sat outside. But then we realized that nobody would know we were there, because it was just a hallway with a couple of benches leading to his office, the door of which was just drapes, and draped shut. I decided we should probably make our presence known. I stepped up to the door, realized that everyone had taken their shoes off outside the office, and did so myself. Then I stepped inside.

My first impression was that this was not a doctor’s office, because it was a very small room with a desk, behind which was sitting (I assumed… and correctly, because later I saw a huge nameplate on his desk) Dr. R.H. Singh. But he is an Ayurvedic doctor, so I guess that’s why his office looked different from an allopathic doctor’s. He was treating a patient after all, and the style with which he was doing it reminded me of Dr. Jamuna Kurup in Delhi (whose office also does not look like a doctor’s). In front of his desk were two people in white coats, so I assumed they were doctors too, or residents, or something like that. One was a woman, one was a man. The man was currently treating someone as well. I beckoned my dad inside too, and we sat down on two of the several chairs lining the walls inside the very small office. We waited for an opening and I then made my way closer to the doctor. He said, “What is it?” I told him my name and that we had spoken on the phone a couple of days ago, and that he was going to be my teacher for Ayurveda next month. He told me to wait on the side for a little while again, and I did, while he cleared out some patients.

We then talked about what I wanted to do, and why I was taking one month to try to study Ayurveda. He said “If you’re really interested in Ayurveda, then go for the full course!” And I said that was part of the plan, and I was even looking at BHU as one of the schools I could go to. He told me that I should apply right away, and see if I am eligible to join already, because in India you only need a 12^th grade education in a science stream and also to take an entrance exam to get into the program. And as a foreigner, I don’t need to take the entrance exam. So I said ok, I’ll try. I didn’t know what else to say. But then he seemed satisfied, and I was relieved. He said I was welcome to come to his office anytime and observe whenever I wanted, and ask him questions whenever I wanted. I told him I would only be moving closer to BHU in April, so that’s when we would start our course. He said that was fine, and in the meantime he suggested to get a book called “Holistic Principles of Ayurveda” by him. So I told him I would. I also mentally made up my mind to apply to BHU right away, to see if I could start right away this August. Quest successful!

Quest 13: Upendra Mahodaya

When I had arrived in Varanasi, I had called a contact that I was given by Sanskrit Bharati who I was told would arrange a Sanskrit-speaking environment for me when I moved closer to BHU in April. The contact, named Sanjeev Mahodaya, (mahodaya is not a last name, it is a title, like Mr. or Mrs., which means “sir”), arranged for me to stay in the apartment/office of another mahodaya, whose name is Upendra. He lives in the apartment, which has been converted to an office for Sanskrit Bharati. So I called Upendra Mahodaya, and he had told me to come over to check out his place and stuff. I figured this would be the best opportunity to do it, since we were already out. So I called him and let him know that we were coming. He said no problem, and he would be waiting. So Dad, Satish Mahodaya, and I made our way to Upendra Mahodaya’s apartment, and when we got there, he greeted us nicely. I liked the guy already, he seemed really friendly and not much older than me, so I was in good spirits. There was another man there, who apparently was another teacher for Sanskrit Bharati. He didn’t live there, but he had just come to greet me as well. I was pretty happy! A group of friends already. They showed us around, and I saw the room I would be staying in. It is an apartment-turned-office/classroom. The living room has a “front desk” as you enter, where they sell books and I guess register people for classes. Then inside there is a little split, where to the right is one room, and to the left is another split with a room on the left and a kitchen on the right. In the middle of the first split is a bathroom. The room on the left is where I will be staying, and that room is actually a classroom, filled with desks (well not filled, but the walls are lined with them). I was excited that I would get to have a new experience of sleeping in a classroom! Through it’s just a room in real life… anyways, we chatted a bit and then took their leave.

 

This is where we parted with Satish Mahodaya, because I was going to BHU again and he was going home. I assured him we would meet again and he said we definitely would, because he would be in Banaras for the next year or so. (Yes!)

 

Quest definitely successful!

 

It was off to BHU for me again…

Quest 12: Kashi Vishvanaath Mandir and Satish Mahodaya

Two days ago was the holy day of Shivaraatri, which literally means the “Night of Shiva.” Tons and tons of people flock to Kashi to offer their worship to Shiva in the Land of Shiva itself! We wanted to go to the Kashi Vishvanaath Mandir, which is Shiva’s main temple in Kashi, at midnight, but it was impossible to even leave the guest house we were staying in that night, because there were so many people in Kashi. So we decided to wait it out. Finally today we got out there in the morning.

 

This whole time I had been in contact with Satish Mahodaya, the main teacher from my spoken Sanskrit course in Delhi, who had told me that he knew the guy in charge of the temple pujas and stuff. He told me to contact the guy, and I did, and talked to him and everything, and he said he would get us darshan at the temple at midnight on Shivaraatri itself. But when time came to leave for it, nobody would take us, and our plan was foiled. So we decided we would wait for Satish Mahodaya, who was not currently in Kashi, to arrive here before actually going there, because I guess he would be able to take us through it himself better than we could.

 

So Dad, Nani, and I set out today at I don’t remember what time, but sometime in the morning we reached Kashi Vishvanaath. When we got there, there was a lot of walking involved, because the vehicle we came in could not fit through the gullies that surround the temple. When we reached the temple, we saw the size of the line. And stared. Satish Mahodaya had said that he would meet us at the main gate, but we were at the main gate and he was not there. But we were late, so we figured he must have gone somewhere. So we decided to stand in line. As we were walking to the back of the line, a hand came out of the throng of people in the line, grabbed my arm, and pulled me hard. I in turn pulled my Nani, who pulled my dad. And we were suddenly near the front of the line.

 

I looked behind me, and saw to my great relief and astonishment, Satish Mahodaya standing there smiling, saying, “I was waiting for you at the gate, but then I figured it would be more useful to just stand in the line and pull you in when I saw you! I almost thought I’d have to go do the whole darshan by myself!!” I was so surprised and excited to see him that without paying attention to anything else around me I gave him a hug and at that moment I realized he had said what he said in Sanskrit, and smiled. I think he knew why I smiled, because he then struck up a random conversation about how many people there were and other unimportant topics after that and we conversed for a while in Sanskrit. He commented on how my fluency, vocabulary, and grammar had improved since he had seen me last, a month and a week ago (when I started speaking). I commented on how Bangalore was one of the best experiences of my life, and he might like to go visit that place once, because it’s totally worth it. In the meantime, we reached the front of the line, and entered the temple. Once inside, it was like any other temple, with a few extra people, and we made our way through it offering our prayers at each altar. Finally, we got out of there and reached our van. This time we loaded ourselves and Satish Mahodaya, our new passenger, into the van and left, one more completed quest under our belts.

 

We were all really hungry, so we stopped at a place and ate kachodi, which is indescribable in English, and also in words. This place had the best kachodis I had ever eaten, and I made a mental note to make sure I came back to this place. But I’ve already forgotten what it’s called (you may laugh, but it’s not funny – I must find this place).

 

Anyways this is where Nani leaves us in today’s story because we sent her back in an autorikshaw from the kachodi place. Now it was just Dad, Satish Mahodaya, and me.

Quest 11: Durga Mandir and Durga Kund

After exiting the Hanuman mandir, we made our wait to the Durga mandir, which is also on that side of the city. (Same side as BHU). As we entered, I felt a strange sensation in me rise up, more because of my own thoughts than because of the place. I somehow felt a strange connectedness, not to anything in particular, but with the thought of Durga Mata in my mind I felt… complete. It was interesting, and not something I can fully describe by writing about it, but I felt good. We offered our prayers, and moved away from the altar. As we moved away, my dad said, “I have to show you something.” I followed him and he took me to a small window in the mandir that looked out across a huge square pool. The water inside it was a dirty green. I immediately recognized it as Durga Kund, which is a big pool for bathing in the name of Durga essentially. My dad said that people used to go to bathe there when he was in college at BHU… But nobody bathes in it anymore. Sad. We can see that this as a product of the insensitivity that people display when littering or when throwing sewage into any pool of water…

 

…Anyways, quest successful nonetheless.

Quest 10: Hanuman Mandir

After leaving Pehelwaan’s, dad, Nani, and I made our way to a Hanuman mandir not too far from where we were. My dad said that this was a place he used to visit very frequently (especially right before tests, haha) when he was in college at BHU. Hanuman is a character from the ancient Indian epic, the Ramayana. He was a vaanara, or monkey, and the son of Vaayu, the wind god. He was an incarnation of Shiva, endowed with special intelligence and might, and the greatest devotee of Lord Rama, hero of the Ramayana.

 

We entered the temple, said our prayers, and left.

Adventure 9: Banaras Hindu University

After meeting Ranaji, we made our way to Banaras Hindu University, since we were already on that side of the city, at Assi Ghat. Banaras Hindu University, also known as BHU, and in Hindi known as Kaashi Hindu Vishvavidyaalaya, is where my father went to college about 30 years ago. He graduated in 1979 from the BHU-IT, which is the Institute of Technology. When we got there, I’m guessing he was filled with old memories, because he was excited about so many different places on the campus that were obviously there when he was studying there as well. It was my first time visiting my dad’s alma mater, and it made me feel good because he was enthusiastic about it. I didn’t know what he was thinking most of the time though, because after being there for 5 years he had to have made more memories than he could possibly share. We did a simple drive-thru visit of the campus, checking out all my dad’s old hostels (dormitories, for you hard-core American-English speakers) and different important buildings on the campus. Finally we stopped at the main mandir of BHU, called BHU’s Kaashi Vishvanaath Mandir. We offered our prayers and left, making our way out of the campus through what is known as the “Lanka Gate.” There is an area right outside of BHU known as Lanka, which this gate leads out to, hence its name.

 

We drove for about 30 seconds after crossing the gate, when my dad told the driver to stop, randomly, on the side of the road. I didn’t actually think about it at the time, but my dad didn’t really give me time to think, either. He quickly told me to come with him, said, “I want to show you something…” and started walking towards the other side of the street. After crossing the street, we came across a shop called “Pehelwaan’s” and it was a lassi shop. Now, a lassi  (pronounced LUHS-see) is a sweet, cold, thickened milk. It is thickened up by way of a tool that looks somewhat like an enlarged top, with a lengthened handle. The lassi-maker will hold the tool in between his hands, which leads to (usually) a large silver-colored pot, filled with milk. He will put lots of sugar and ice into the pot, and then start to move his hands back and forth, making the tool spin very fast, and churn the milk. Since the ice is there, the milk thickens very quickly and becomes cold. He will remove the ice, then pour the lassi into a clay pot about half the size of a normal-sized cereal bowl (yes, this is what you drink it out of. How awesome, I know). Along with the thickened milk, he will have a pan of yogurt on the side, on top of which accumulates a thick layer of molasses over time. Once he pours the sweetened and thickened milk (which is by now the consistency of a milkshake, without the froth) into the clay pot, he breaks off a piece of the molasses about the size of the area of the rim of the pot, then carefully removes it from the top of the yogurt, and places it flat on the surface of the milk. This, all together, is known as a lassi. At Pehelwaan’s though, there is one other specialty. After putting the molasses, they’ll put another substance on top, which is essentially the consistency of pudding, but tastes like heaven (it’s sweet too, wouldn’t you know it). It’s called rabadi. And at Pehelwaan’s, all of this together is a lassi, and is probably the best drink I have ever had. It is especially good in hot weather, as it somehow cools your whole body down. I have noticed that I’m having amazing drinks wherever I go. Coconut water in Bangalore, and lassi in Varanasi… My dad said that Pehelwaan’s used to be his favorite lassi shop when he was in college. It felt so cool to experience this place with him 30 years later… If I had simply come here myself, it might not have been as good. Anyways, this was my first lassi (but not my last, if I’ll have anything to say about it) in India. The cool thing is that since the pot/cup thing you drink it out of is made of earth, you can toss it anywhere and it’ll become part of the earth again. Very eco-friendly. We bought three, one for me, one for dad, and one for Nani. We all drank our lassis and moved on…

Quest 9: Dr. Rana P.B. Singh

Dad, Nani, and I ventured to the other side of Varanasi today in the morning, to go meet Dr. Rana P.B. Singh. We met him in a bookshop called Harmony Books or something like that. He turned out to be a really nice guy, and gave me all the material I need to get started on my explorations of the city. Harmony Books is at the other end of Varanasi, at a ghat called Assi Ghat. Imagine a big, jolly guy with a serious face but the nicest smile, who looks at you like you’re the most wrong-looking person he’s ever met but when he talks to you he sounds like Santa Clause, and that’s Dr. Rana P.B. Singh, or “Ranaji” as he is known lovingly and also for short. When we met we started talking about lots of different topics and finally arrived at buying books. He gave me quite a few books (by him, of course, or else edited by him), and in the spur of the moment I could not say “no” and ended up buying everything he gave me. He told the cashier to give me a 10% discount. In all honesty, I don’t know how I will actually end up reading all the books he gave me. Anyways, quest completed! Off to BHU…

Adventure 8: Sarnath

Today we went to Sarnath to explore Buddha’s history. Sarnath is the city where Buddha held his first discourse. There is so much Buddhist architecture and history in Sarnath, it’s unbelievable. Sarnath is actually the neighboring city to Varanasi, so Varanasi in turn becomes a big hub for Buddhism too. It is a pilgrimage city for many, many religions. But Sarnath is the main attraction for Buddhists, because it has all the historical literature and architecture. We first stopped at the very place where Buddha gave his first lecture. It was an interesting experience… I imagined that a few thousand years ago there was a man who came from northeast Bhaarat (which is what this nation was known as at the time)… He was born in Lumbini, which is at the border of modern-day Nepal and India, moved around eastern India with lots of other saints seeking the Truth, and discovered it in a city named Gaya. He then came back to the holy city of Varanasi. Of course for him, being a Hindu, this was the most sacred of all places to live, especially as an Enlightened One. Then he went next door, to the neighboring city of Sarnath, and delivered his first lecture about the nature of the Truth to his 5 initial disciples. How cool is that?

 

The interesting thing is that all these messiahs/prophets or whatever they are called were members of one religion, and then when they started teaching, their followers started a group based on the messiah/prophet’s teachings, to follow the model set by the messiah/prophet himself. But the hilarious thing is, they could not even follow the religion that the messiah/prophet himself followed!! They had to start a new one. Why? Was the religion that the Enlightened One followed not good enough? Even though the Enlightened One (and I’m not just referring to Buddha… there have been plenty of Enlightened Ones) followed that religion him/herself? I think it’s really funny that people think they are following the model of their leader so well, even though they’re not even following the religion he followed! Obviously the religion that the Enlightened One follows is the umbrella under which his/her teachings will be… but people don’t seem to understand that. It’s just a really good excuse to separate the people of the world. When people look at each other, what do they see? They don’t see the basic human nature in everyone, they see the different religions that they follow, the different ideals everyone lives by, the different colors of their skin, and too many other things… that make up maybe only 1% of a man! 99% of who we are is HUMAN!! No matter what you follow, you are only human in the end, right? When you are born, you are born first as a human. Then as you grow up you are conditioned by your environment to believe that you are first the member of one religion, the member of one social class, the member of one race, etc. and you forget who you really are… and who everyone else is. If we can just put that thought at the forefront of our minds when dealing with people, who are only people, not religions, castes, creeds, races, etc., then we can be free of this turmoil that is constantly plaguing our minds. Enough for today? I think so.

Adventure 7: Varanasi

Today at around 8:30 AM we started from my uncle’s house in Noida for Gurgaon, where my Nani (mom’s mom) lives. We ate lunch at Gurgaon, then pushed off for the airport. So my dad, Nani, and I were leaving for Banaras. I couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. By the way, I will be using the names “Varanasi,” “Kashi,” and “Banaras” interchangeably, so please don’t be confused. When we landed in Banaras, I noticed that the people looked noticeably different than the people I had seen in Delhi or Kashmir or Bangalore. It’s always interesting to note how every city has its own kind of people. Some cities have differences in skin color (actually almost all do), some cities have differences in facial expressions, some have mustached men, some don’t, some have women covered head to toe, some have women with almost no clothes at all… It’s an interesting country. In Banaras, I don’t know what the difference is exactly, but when I figure it out I’ll write about it.

 

We arrived in Varanasi around 3:45 PM and then took a taxi from the airport to the J. Krishnamurty Center in Raj Ghat, Varanasi. One very peculiar thing to notice about Varanasi is that Varanasi is split up by ghats, or locations along the Ganga River. (Many people say “Ganges” but that irritates me, because the real name is “Ganga”). So along Raj Ghat is the J Krishnamurty Foundation center, and it’s beautiful. It’s right on the banks of the Ganga, and the view is ridiculous. The main campus is on the west side of– get this – the Varuna River. The rural center is on the other side of the Varuna River, and both campuses are actually just on opposite sides of the intersection of the Varuna and the Ganga. To get from one campus to the other (it’s about a 7 or 8 minute walk), you have to cross a wood-plank bridge, which is literally just like they used to make bridges in medieval times. I’m not kidding. It is wooden, there are lots of planks, and you can see through the spaces between them, a couple of them are broken, it’s just like the movies or cartoons. It’s actually kind of scary to walk across it sometimes, but you just have to have faith and walk across it, because that’s the only short way between both campuses. I learned that every year the bridge breaks, and every year they rebuild it. During the rainy season, the water level rises so high (the bridge is at least 20 feet above the water) that it actually takes down the bridge!! So they rebuild it every year after the season. How crazy, right? I’m amazed at this place. Though I am no longer 5000 years in the past, I am now living in the oldest city in the world… I’ll write more about Kashi itself later, because there’s just too much to say about the city. There are hundreds of books written just about Kashi the city. But right now I’ll write about what is or has been going on…

 

Right as we arrived, we dropped our stuff off in a guest house where my dad, Nani, and I were going to stay for a couple of days before I moved into the rural center, where I will be staying for the rest of the month. When we dropped our stuff off, we went to the rural center to visit Partho [Uncle], the guy who is in charge of operations there. We talked to him for a bit, he gave us a tour of the place, and then he told us that if we wanted to take a boat ride all the way down the Ganga and see each ghat all the way up to Dashashvamedha Ghat we could do that, and then see the aarati there (which is famous because of the way they do it…) but we had to go NOW. So at around 6:30 PM we set out for Dashashvamedha Ghat from Raj Ghat in a small rowboat, rowed by one old guy named Ramlochan, and steered by a young guy named Kamlesh (the steering is using another oar, from the back of the boat, by hand). We made our way along the ghats of the Ganga and finally at around 7:40 PM or so reached Dashashvamedha Ghat. There we watched the aarati (I would explain what aarati means, but I think it would be better if the reader did some research on his/her own). We then came back, which took another 45 minutes or so, and the reached the room at around 9:15 PM. After we got back we ate, which was an awesome home-cooked meal, and then retired to our rooms to rest…

 

I am now in my main place of study for the semester… and I am already in love with this city. Not because of its beauty, not because of its people, and not because of its weather. I am simply in awe of its glory… and it’s unfathomable history. I’m no historian, and in fact I have always said how much I hate history class, so I know how weird it sounds coming from me. But India’s history in general, and more specifically Varanasi’s, is extremely fascinating. Imagine the 200 years of American history we learn in school, versus the 7000+ years of cultural history of India!! I say cultural history because India’s history itself is older than 7000 years, but the age where the culture we see and learn about today started to come up around 7000 years ago. I will write more in-depth about Kashi closer to the end of my stay here (and I will continually be writing about it on my own, but I will not post it until then), because I would like to learn as much as I can before I actually publish it. And I would like it to be accurate. I can write a lot of things based on my emotions, but that is not going to help anyone get anywhere.

 

Tomorrow will bring about a new adventure I’m sure, but I have no idea what it is yet. We’ll see…