Sringeri

I took a bus from Bangalore to Sringeri, which departed from Bangalore at around 10:30 PM to reach Sringeri in the morning. Thursday night was full of goodbyes, good lucks, and good wishes. I was really amazed that even having stayed in Bangalore for just about a week, I had made a family already. They all told me to come back whenever I had a break. I told them I would come back for sure. It was not a sad parting at all; in fact, it was happy, because we all knew what was ahead… Adventure!

I took an auto rickshaw from Aksharam to the Majestic, which was the bus stand from which the bus would depart. We found the bus I was supposed to take, known as the “Ambari” coach bus, and I boarded. I was carrying one large suitcase, one small suitcase, and a box about 1 ft x 1 ft x 2 ft full of books given to me at Aksharam to prepare me for my studies. I was so grateful, because they gave me the books for free! They said it was on them because I was doing work for Sanskrit anyway, which was a big enough payment. Such is the way of Sanskriti. I am amazed by its potential every time it reveals itself. There is so much love everywhere I go, within the Sanskrit-speaking world, because that is often the only thing they [we] have to give to each other. Beautiful. It’s a good world to be part of.

The bus departed on time (surprise!) and we were off to Sringeri! I still had absolutely no clue about what to expect, and I was surrounded by people who seemed to be professional Sringeri-goers. This was slightly intimidating, I will admit. At this moment in time, for the first time in a long time, I felt slightly alone. I did not speak the local language, it appeared to me that nobody on the bus spoke Sanskrit (or they were too good to be spoken to), I did not know what to expect, I was going into completely unknown territory, and I had absolutely no friends on the destination side. This combination did not strike me as the best possible scenario. However, putting my faith in the Divine Mother, who holds me in her grace for which I am eternally grateful, I let go of my fears and took a deep breath. I know that there is always a plan in the universal mind whenever things happen, so I put my trust in that plan, though unknown to me, and closed my eyes. This was the start to a big adventure, I could feel it. I slowly (the ride was bumpy) drifted into sleep.

My sleep was broken several times through the night by many things: sounds, smells, jolts, mosquitoes, temperature changes… but the time that I finally woke up, I realized how beautiful my final destination was going to be. It was around 5:30 in the morning, and the sun was ready to rise. I realized we were surrounded by dense forest and the most abundant tree I saw was the palm tree. Palm trees, as many people know, are the symbol of paradise. Whenever someone draws a picture of paradise, it includes palm trees for sure. So here I was, entering my semi-permanent destination… paradise. When the sun finally rose, just 30 or 40 minutes before I reached my destination, I realized the extent of the beauty I was to be surrounded by for a year. With the sunlight, I was able to see past the forest that surrounded us. I got a clear view of mountains and hills, covered with forest and fields, clouds and mystery. The possibilities that lay ahead were racing through my mind. I still held no expectations, but had I held any, this place would surely have exceeded them. Never in my imagination had I come across such magnificence – there was so much to see here! I silently thanked the Mother Goddess for showing me the beauty in everything and not the flaws.

I realized that what we see is what we want to see – always. There is never a time that we see something other than what we want to see. The people who want to see beauty see beauty everywhere – in nature, in animals, in people, in places, in existence. The people who want to see imperfections or defects spot them right away. If we see imperfections, or rather, if we highlight imperfections, it is because we want to see them. We only see what we want to see. Always. And why do people want to see imperfections? Do they get some sort of happiness in doing so? Anything we ever do is for our own happiness; there will never be a time when someone does something to be sad. But the amount of happiness one gets from seeing beauty instead of flaws is infinitely greater, because it is lasting happiness. We may get a fleeting sense of happiness, or satisfaction, from pointing out the faults in another, but what happiness is there in remembering that we pointed out the faults in someone/something else? Instead, if we see the beauty in everything, we will not only be happy when we see it, but be happy when we remember it too. Therefore, seeing beauty is infinitely more beneficial than seeing imperfections. Remember, it is 100% our own decision to make.

We reached Sringeri at around 7:00 AM, and there was a man (one of the teachers at the university I would be attending) by the name of Giridhar, waiting for me at the bus stand. Together, we came to the university in an auto rickshaw. He dropped me off in my new room, in the guesthouse on campus, and told me to take some rest. At 8:30, there would be other students who would come to get me to take me to breakfast. Emotionally, I was a mix. I had the sense of excitement to begin my new journey, and the sense of uncertainty about my destination. I was ready to become who I would become, but I was nervous to see who that would be. I was relieved to have finally reached my destination, but I was tense about what that meant. With this mixture of feelings, I lay down on the bed that was to be mine for the next… I didn’t know how long. But I let the feeling of relief spread through my body and mind and decided to rest. After much anticipation, I had finally arrived in Sringeri.

Veda Vijnana Gurukulam

By traveling to Uddhavji’s place, I became an “expert” bus traveler. So with my new confidence I decided to go visit the Gurukulam where I stayed for a month last February, called Veda Vijnana Gurukulam, which is located in Channenahalli, in the outskirts of Bangalore. I went to the same bus stand as last time, and asked around for bus number 242, which is the bus number I was told to take. After asking around for a while, I again became as confused as I was the first time I went to the bus stand. For some reason, nobody knew anything about bus number 242. I was sent from one side of the station to the other side and back again at least three or four times, when I finally realized that I had a cell phone and that I should use it. So I called the Gurukulam, and the headmaster told me that the bus could actually be found at a different bus stand, not exactly Market. So I asked nearby folks where this bus stand was, and they directed me down the street. So I started walking.

After walking for a little while, I asked a few more people where the bus stand was, and they kept saying “Go down, just a little further.” I kept going, and finally I saw a bus stand. But my confidence was shaken now, so just to make sure I asked another person where the bus stand was. He looked at me as if I were crazy and pointed right across the street. I crossed the street, and here I asked guards where bus 242 could be found, going to Channenahalli. They directed me and I finally found a bus whose director was shouting, “Channenahalli!” I asked him if it was bus number 242. He said this bus didn’t have a number, and that bus 242 would not even be coming, so I should get on this bus. So I trusted him and got on the bus. I asked him about eight or nine times whether he would tell me when the Channenahalli stop would come, and he told me he would.

Nobody else on the bus spoke Hindi, so I was sort of lost. These were all people going back to their homes after school or work (it seemed), and they clearly lived in the village area. This meant they spoke only Kannada. For me, this was a problem because who could I ask to make sure this was my stop if the conductor was not available or if he forgot? Instead, I just kept asking the conductor if he would tell me where the stop was. He got kind of annoyed with me, but at least I knew he would not forget to tell me where my stop was.

I stood almost the whole way there. For about an hour I was standing in this bus going to Channenahalli, which had a T.V. in it playing some Kannada movie (really, really loud). People who did not speak my language and who were otherwise enraptured by the movie surrounded me. And I was holding the top railing the whole time. This was not the most comfortable position to be in for an hour, especially on a moving bus (in India), but I had a goal in mind, a mission to accomplish. I was going to get to Veda Vijnana Gurukulam no matter what it took.

Finally as we approached the stop I was supposed to get off at, I started to recognize the landmarks and the scenery. So I asked the conductor if this was where I was supposed to get off (one last time) and he said it was. I got off, and another lady who got off with me pointed me in the right direction towards the Gurukulam.

When I got to the Gurukulam, it was exactly as I remembered it, except for the new faces that I saw. It was break time for them, so they took me to their new volleyball net that they put up outside their temple. There was apparently a volleyball tournament going on amongst the students, so I watched for a few minutes and then made my way back to the grounds. I wanted to meet the Pradhan Acharya (headmaster). I met him after about a year and a half, but he remembered me perfectly well. I shared the rest of my story from last year (I had many more adventures after visiting Bangalore before I came back to the States). He was happy with my Sanskrit, and I told him I was going to Sringeri to study Sanskrit further. We had a nice discussion, and afterwards joined the other students outside for the collective prayer. They all wished me good luck on my journey ahead.

I noticed that as soon as I got on the grounds of the Gurukulam, I felt a sense of peace. The atmosphere itself was quiet, serene, welcoming. I shared this thought with the Acharya, and he told me that green is the secret to their peace. There is so much plant life on the grounds of the Gurukulam, which provides a calm environment and thus an opportunity for everyone to appreciate the beauty of nature and of simple living. And even if they don’t notice it at first, they come to notice it on their own eventually, because the area is so unique – it is totally calm, but full of life as well. And you feel the life around you, but you also feel the tranquility. This is the secret to their peace.

I was so happy to have come and visited the Gurukulam. It is always a pleasure to be in such a peaceful environment. I felt rejuvenated from the experience, and attempted to make my way back to Aksharam the same way I had come… When I got to Market, I asked a conductor if his bus was going to Girinagar, and he said yes, so I hopped in. Unfortunately, when the bus came to its last stop and that stop was not my stop, I realized that I was on the wrong bus. This bus was going to Srinagar, not Girinagar! I wandered aimlessly for a minute or two, not really knowing what to do or how far from Aksharam I had come. It was dark by this time, and I was actually a little bit scared. What if I didn’t make it back to Aksharam?

I found an auto rickshaw driver and asked him if he would take me to Girinagar. He said he would, which was a huge relief for me, because that meant I was not too far from it. At nighttime, auto drivers tend not to take anyone very far because they have their own homes to go to, so they don’t want to take too much time in driving a customer. I sat in the auto and was absolutely relieved when I reached Aksharam again. After dinner, I was so tired that I could not think of anything but comfortable, peaceful sleep.

Uddhavji

On Thursday, I decided that I should do something on my own. I had received a call earlier from a friend and teacher of mine, named Uddhav Chaitanya, whom I call Uddhavji. He said he was staying in Bangalore until Monday, at which time he would be moving to Dallas, Texas. So I called him back saying that I’d love to meet him, and he told me his address. He said to get on a bus to White Field. One of my newfound friends took me to the place where a bus goes from Girinagar, which is Aksharam’s address, to “Market,” which is a central location where all the buses go and come back to. I, however, did not know this. Nor did I have any idea what “Market” looked like or felt like. From Market, he said, I could take a bus to White Field. But frankly, I was scared of taking a bus, because a) I had never taken a bus in India before (let alone by myself) and b) I do not know the language Cannada, which is what everyone speaks. So instead I asked my friend to grab an auto rickshaw for me so that I could just take a rickshaw from Girinagar to Mahadevapuram. He called over a rickshaw driver, told him where I had to go, and then sent me off. I found, luckily, that this rickshaw driver knew Hindi. I also learned that most of the educated people in Bangalore area speak Hindi. Even the uneducated individuals speak bits and pieces. If this wasn’t the case, I would be utterly lost. We reached the market and I was completely shocked.

Take the crowd at your nearest Six Flags, or amusement park, multiply it by about 100, insert Indian traffic, put it all in a huge junkyard for buses, and that was the market that this auto driver dropped me off in. The market literally looked like a junkyard, filled with buses (at least 30 – 40 of them at once) with a through road that all the buses take when leaving for their routes. It is located under a flyover, so there are lots and lots of homeless people that live there. (There are homeless people everywhere – don’t get me wrong – but this was a particularly huge concentration of them.) What I didn’t know at the time was that this was only half of the market. The other half was on the other side of a fence, which was the traffic going in the other direction. I later found out that it is exactly like this side, but going the other way. And this whole bus junction was surrounded by a market.

I was directed by the auto driver to the center of the junction where he said I should ask for a bus to White Field. What he didn’t tell me was that there was no system by which I could actually find out which bus to get on, I would just have to ask anyone and everyone. So when I got there, for the first minute or so I was totally lost because I was surrounded by massive buses and 1000 people who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. I found out soon after that they did not in fact know what they were doing; they simply looked like they knew what they were doing. Nobody I asked knew what bus to get on to go to White Field, but everyone gave me an answer. Of course, there were the rare people who told me they didn’t know, but for the most part, people would just point in a direction. A couple of people even told me bus numbers, but every answer that I got was different. Each bus has a number written on it, so if you know the number of the bus you need to get on, you can ask around. But if you only know where you have to go, you take a huge risk when you get on any bus. In India, everyone will give you an answer in an attempt to help, but you have to ask about 8 or 9 people before knowing where to go. How? By seeing which answer you got the most. You also must judge the confidence with which each person answers you. In this case, however, I got every answer only once. And I asked about 20 people. And nobody was confident.

I could not for the life of me find the bus going to White Field in this mass chaos, so I called Uddhavji to ask him what bus to get on. He said he didn’t know, but that I should get onto a bus going to “Tin Factory.” So I asked around, and I found a bus going to Tin Factory. I don’t know how. When I got on the bus, I asked a few people if the bus was going to Tin Factory, and luckily, there were two boys in the back of the bus who said they were going to Tin Factory as well. I felt relieved and sat down in front of them. While we were waiting for the bus to leave from the market, another man came and sat down next to me. I was on the window seat, and he was on the aisle seat. The two boys going to Tin Factory were sitting a couple of rows behind us. Before we even started moving, however, I glimpsed the two boys getting off the bus! I checked behind me and sure enough, they were not in their seats. I did the “excuse me, excuse me” thing and jumped past the man sitting next to me in pursuit of the two boys (because they were going to Tin Factory, so if I followed them, I would eventually get there too). When I got off the bus, I could not find the boys anywhere. They vanished into thin air it seemed. I ran around aimlessly for about 10 seconds, then realized that if the bus I was on was actually going to Tin Factory, I should get back on it. So I got back on the bus, found a seat (somehow there were still seats available), and sat down. The bus started moving. I asked the man next to me if the bus was going to Tin Factory, and he said it was. We hit the first stop, and I realized that I would never know which stop Tin Factory was, because the bus seemed to randomly stop in the middle of the road, open its doors, (which were sometimes just left open between stops too) wait for a few seconds, and go. Everyone who had to get off and get on did so in that time. And those who didn’t make it on the bus during the few seconds that the bus stopped would run alongside the bus and then jump-climb on when they got the chance. Now I was afraid I would miss the stop because I had no idea which stop was which! You just have to know where your stop is if you want to get off. The other problem was that the bus filled up after the first couple of stops to the point where the seats were full, the standing capacity was overflowed, and there were people hanging outside the bus. So I asked the man next to me if he would tell me when Tin Factory came. He said he would. Unfortunately, within five minutes of my asking him, he fell asleep. How would he tell me if he was asleep? So I asked another boy who was standing next to my seat. He told me he would let me know when Tin Factory came. On a whim I trusted him, and relaxed.

When I relaxed, I saw a whole new dimension of operations and methods amidst the chaos that is the bus system in Bangalore. There are two conductors on each bus; one is the driver, and one is in charge of the tickets (for convenience, I will just refer to the ticket conductor as the conductor, and the driver conductor as the driver). The conductor has a whistle that allows him to communicate with the driver even if he’s not near the driver, and even if there is so much noise on the bus that you can’t hear yourself think. Each stop, the conductor blows the whistle to let the driver know that he should stop (sometimes people want to get off the bus even when it’s not a real stop, so if the conductor blows the whistle, the driver knows to stop), and the driver stops. The conductor leans out the door or gets off the bus for a few seconds to watch people get on and off the bus, and also calls out to the public where this bus is going. Once everyone for that stop is on or off the bus, the conductor blows the whistle again and gets back on the bus. The second whistle is to indicate to the driver that he can start driving again. So in this way, the bus system is really efficient. Once the bus starts moving again, the conductor makes his way through the bus (somehow) and collects money for tickets. He remembers who was on the bus last time, and who got on the bus this time because he stands outside the bus watching the people get on and off the bus. So he knows who is new. He then dispenses the tickets, and the system restarts. All of this happens in a matter of seconds.

Eventually, my stop came, and I got off the bus at Tin Factory. I called Uddhavji, and he said that I should take an auto from there to his place. So I did. It took a total of about two and a half hours to get to his place, through traffic and using public transportation, but I made it. The stay with Uddhavji was very pleasant (worth it), and the trip back to Aksharam was just as tough as the trip to his place. But I find that there is no replacement for good company. It is the company one keeps that helps one form his or her values, habits, attitude, etc. Thus one should choose his or her company wisely. When I made it back to Aksharam I was so tired and so relieved that I went straight to bed.

Bangalore

I left Delhi on Wednesday, July 15^th ready for adventure – but I had no idea what was in store for me. At the airport in Delhi, I encountered absolutely no problems. I arrived way early so I sat down and read for a while. It’s interesting how at Indian airports you see all kinds of nationalities, all kinds of people, and when you leave the airport they all seem to disappear. Where do they all go? Do they stay indoors mostly, or with their own groups? I guess India can be an intimidating place, but it’s actually very friendly if you let yourself go with the flow.

We landed in Bangalore around 12:45 PM. I found myself outside with my luggage in no time. As soon as I exited the airport, right in front of me was a sign that read “Mr. Varun Khanna” held up by a man in a red shirt; I thought he was the taxi driver who was supposed to take me to Aksharam, which was my destination. Aksharam is an office/school/residence of Sanskrit Bharati, the organization through which I first learned how to speak Sanskrit. I nodded to the man and he nodded back with a smile and took me to the taxi, accompanied by another man in red. When I got into the taxi, however, I saw that the driver was someone else! I saw all the papers in the hands of these guys and they all had my name on them, so I felt relatively secure. The second man in red got into the car with me and the driver and we started driving. About five minutes into the drive, the man in red asked me, “Do you know how to get there?”

I was rather confused for two reasons: 1) Wasn’t he supposed to know where we were going?? 2) He asked me the question in Hindi. In Bangalore, the local language is Cannada, and the generic language is English. Hindi doesn’t really make its way into the scene, so I was rather surprised that this guy knew Hindi. It turns out he also knew English and Cannada. So did the driver.

I told them that I had no idea where we were going, and that I had the address but not the directions. About 15 minutes into the drive, the man in red got out of the car at a stoplight and just started walking away. The driver told me that his house was nearby, so he was going home. I was somewhat confused as to what was going on, but I just went with the flow. We ended up stopping four or five times to ask for directions before getting to the place. When we actually got there, there were a few people waiting for me at the door. (I had called them from the driver’s phone to let them know that I was coming). I paid the driver and went inside.

As soon as I got in, I felt at home. The amazing thing is that throughout the country, even though there are hundreds of local languages and dialects, Sanskrit is one language that remains constant. Each person in India can call Sanskrit his or her own. The local languages change by region, but Sanskrit is truly the mother of all languages. So no matter where you go, if people speak Sanskrit, you can get around. More people than expected speak Sanskrit, especially if you know where to go. Another thing is that the bond created between two people who speak Sanskrit is a very powerful one. The language itself is so strong that when the two people meet, they are automatically connected. Unless you experience it for yourself, this written explanation won’t mean very much to you. Also, I don’t do it justice.

I was informed that I was not going to Sringeri that day. There was massive rainfall going on in Sringeri, so much so that some of the buses that left from Bangalore did not make it to Sringeri. Even the university where I would be studying was taking a few days off for the rains to pass. (Imagine that! As opposed to a snow day, a rain day! How much rain must have been falling in Sringeri?) Thus I was advised to stay at Aksharam for a few days, at which time it would be safe to go to Sringeri. I have never known rain to be unsafe, but there is a first time for everything I suppose. I experienced some initial frustration at not being allowed to go, but I decided that rather than being angry at the turn of events, I would go with the flow and seek the good that could come out of this new opportunity. Either way, I was in a Sanskrit-speaking environment, so I was happy.

The rest of Wednesday went by rather uneventfully, I helped out here and there and got to meet a few people. It appears there is the creation of a new Sanskrit dictionary going on at Aksharam, so different pundits and scholars from all over the country periodically come in and stay for a few days or a few weeks to help. I watched them work for a while, I watched others do certain tasks (helped as well), watched a Sanskrit class for little kids take place. It was quite enjoyable. Of course, I didn’t understand a word of what was being spoken outside of the Sanskrit, because it was all in Cannada, but what was being said in Sanskrit I could understand. The day ended early for me, I turned in around 9:00 PM because I was too tired to do anything else. I went right to sleep.

The Trip to India Part 2

I have arrived in Delhi!

 

From Frankfurt to Delhi, I slept. Every hour or two, however, I was woken up by a food or drink call by the attendants. It was rather uneventful. The sky was absolutely beautiful though: the clouds underneath, and the sun setting behind us. When we landed, I had no idea what to expect. It was night, around 8:45 PM or so Indian Standard Time. We stopped in the middle of nowhere, and the doors opened! As it turned out, there were stairs leading to the ground, where we were supposed to hop on a shuttle bus that would take us to the terminal. As I stepped outside, I was completely unprepared for what I would experience. I was wearing a sweatshirt (it was cold on the plane) and jeans, but when I got outside, I was overwhelmed by heat. We were not told what the actual temperature was, but I asked someone and he said that it was 37 degrees Celsius. Since it was nighttime, I thought it would be cooler. But it was almost 100 degrees Fahrenheit! And it was dry heat.

 

As we were waiting for the shuttle, an airhostess came downstairs helping an old lady. She spotted me, came my way, and asked me if I was alone. I told her I was, and she said, “Can you help this lady off the shuttle at the terminal?” And in the moment, I replied that of course I would. So I helped her off the shuttle, and into the terminal. We found a wheelchair, and then I let her go with someone who worked at the airport. The exchange itself was rather plain, but only later did it strike me how odd the exchange would have been by American, or generally western, standards. To the airhostess and the old lady, I was a complete stranger. But the word “stranger” does not mean anything to Indian people. Only because they feel comfortable with each other and trust each other are they able to ask things like this of one another. I don’t know why it is the way it is, but for some reason everyone is like family. In America, we somehow don’t share this relationship. I cannot even begin to wonder about why there is a difference. Aren’t we all people? Shouldn’t we love and trust each other as people? But we don’t. Not yet, anyway.

The Trip to India Part 1 and Some Background

I am in Frankfurt, Germany.

 

The day of departure snuck up on me so fast! It still does not feel like anything has happened. I left home at around 12:15 PM on Tuesday, and my flight departed at 4:00 PM. Everything went by very smoothly, and so far my trip has been relatively smooth too. I had a window seat and nobody sat in the seat next to me on the way to Frankfurt, and I think I will have the same seat going to Delhi. Our flight leaves in a little less than two hours. Not much more to report for now, but a great adventure awaits.

 

I will be joining my uncle in Noida, Uttar Pradesh when I arrive. I will stay with him for about a week before going to Sringeri, Karnataka where my real studies will begin. Let me recap and give you some background before I continue posting on this blog. I went to India from December 2007 to May 2008 to study abroad. My purpose was to study Ayurvedic medicine, or at least get an idea about what it is. I realized, and was rightly informed, that before pursuing any ancient Indian study, one must have a working knowledge of Sanskrit (for his or her pursuit to be successful). So I started studying Sanskrit. Over the course of the 6 months that I was there, I studied in environments where the medium of instruction was Sanskrit, and many times Sanskrit was the only language that I had in common with the people there. I became fluent in the language and realized that the benefits of studying it further were immense. Thus I decided to pursue Sanskrit instead of Ayurveda, because by studying Sanskrit I could gain access not only to Ayurveda but also to all the ancient scriptures of India, for they are all written originally in Sanskrit. There is so much knowledge hidden in these scriptures, a whole world of information yet to be explored and discovered by modern students. My intention, therefore, was to find the secrets hidden in these texts.

 

Now, I am going to India to study Sanskrit for one year under the tutelage of a Guru. I will be studying at Sringeri Vidyapeeth, also known as the deemed-to-be Sringeri branch of National Sanskrit University. My studies will take me to the next level of understanding of Sanskrit, whereby I will hopefully be able to read these ancient texts on my own without help. Where my quest will take me from there I have yet to discover, but it will be a wonderful journey.

 

This quest is what I will update you on along the way.

Reflections

I am honored to have been given the opportunity to explore and discover for myself the land that gives me my roots and my culture, the land from which I draw my strength and values. I saw and learned much, but also realized that there is almost an infinite amount left yet to discover. It warrants many, many more trips to this land in the future. I have a clearer picture of who I am and why I am this way; I have less tension about who I want to be and where I am going in life.

 

Being in India has taught me that there is so much more to life than waking up in the morning, going to school/work, eating food, doing homework, partying, and sleeping. There is so much to be discovered wherever we go, whatever we do, and whenever we do it. I have learned that if there is work to be done, then there is no better time to start than now. I have learned that there is no use worrying about what will happen in the future, for that is not in our hands. But what is in our hands is what we do now. I have learned that many people talk, but nobody listens; our character lies in our actions alone.

 

There is nothing more I can say about what I have learned. The time has come to stop talking, and start acting; the time has come to change the world. The question is not “Does the world want to be changed?” but rather, “Am I ready to change the world?” and to be ready, one must change oneself.

Adventure 17: D-103, Sector 40, Noida, India, to 543 Gateshead Drive, Naperville, Illinois, USA

I’m in the airplane, and I’m going home.

 

They say there’s no place like home, and they’re right. Having been away from home (and homeland) for so long, I can honestly say that I’m ready to come back. As much as I loved India and getting in touch with my roots, and even though I learned and gained so much, I’m still an American boy. Home is home, no matter what, and it’s time for me to return to it. This is only the second time in my life that I’ve been away from home for more than a month or two, the first time being when I was 9 and went to Chinmaya International Residential School (CIRS) for 6 months in India. The only difference between then and now is that this time I’m older, and can do stuff on my own… hence the traveling.

 

The airplane is currently somewhere near the Rankin Inlet, over the Hudson Bay.

 

The current time in Chicago is 1:45 AM.

The current time where I am is also 1:45 AM (this inlet is directly north of Chicago).

The current time in New Delhi is 12:15 PM.

The estimated arrival time is 4:31 AM in Chicago, which is about 2400 kilometers away.

The airplane is at an altitude of 11582 meters, with a ground speed of approximately 959 kmph.

It’s -47ºC outside.

 

I’ve been in the airplane for a little over 12 hours now, watching movies, reading, sleeping, and writing. It makes me think of the crazy amount of flying I have done since I got to India. I’ve never taken that many flights in such a short amount of time. In the words of one of my uncles when he found out about my itinerary before I came to India, “His itinerary is like that of a high-flying executive!” and indeed it was. I will be arriving home shortly, and resuming life back at home!

Quest 16: Finishing Touches

Well, it’s almost over.

 

I’m back in Noida, vacation’s finished. The schedule before going back home is kind of crazy; I’m going to another residential camp to learn how to teach spoken Sanskrit on the 19^th, which ends on the 29^th, and the 29^th is the day I’m leaving India. How does that work? Well, the two days I’ve got here are used for packing and preparing for the trip to go back to the States, and the day that the camp ends I will come home for about an hour to grab my bags and run to the airport! So right now i'm in pack-till-you-drop mode. Gotta get completely set to go before heading off to the camp...

Adventure 16: Road to Pondicherry

Let’s start where I left off. I woke up on the 30^th morning and got ready and everything, but we decided to leave at 6:00 AM instead of 5:00 AM. The drive was quite beautiful, because the whole thing is along the coastline. The ocean is really beautiful when you stop analyzing it and just watch. And listen. And appreciate. We stopped at a city in the middle called Mahabalipuram and I was told that this was where there used to be an ancient civilization (not that there’s any scarcity of those in India). But this one was different.

 

We checked out the ruins of an ancient temple, which used to be along the coastline (the shore has been manually moved a little bit further back). This temple was ridiculously amazing to explore. It was just me and my dad’s two main co-workers (literally, it was just us three at the whole temple site). I walked around it, inside it, through it (it is ruins, so naturally, the whole temple is – although intact – ruined). There were so many pieces of architecture and, probably at the time functional, stone tanks for water storage and other such tools and devices. I was amazed at the fact that although this was at least 1500 years old, it was so detailed in its architecture, so precise in its measurements, so thorough in its understanding of the laws of mathematics and physics. How did ancient civilizations do this without computers and calculators, and even without any machinery to do the sculpting?! I am always fascinated and amazed at the ability and potency of ancient artists and sculptors, who worked entirely with their hands and entirely out of inspiration. Even in today’s India, the sculptors still prefer their hands to machinery, on the side of the streets you can see them sculpting away their little idols and figurines out of stone.

 

In today’s society, we have become so dependent on machines to do everything for us – wash our clothes and dishes, do our calculations, even to write! We depend on computers for everything. Our brain’s functionality has either gone down or we have stunted it ourselves with the use of machines as supports where we don’t need them. It is like being born with fine legs, and then being given crutches at the age of 3, before your legs become fully grown and developed. Then by the time you are 13, you cannot walk because your legs’ growth was stunted due to the crutches you use, even though you never needed them in the first place!! This is what we are in fact doing to our brains and bodies today…

 

Anyways after exploring this temple and taking some cool pictures, we left the site and went to another ancient site called Panch Rath. This site is something of an architectural anomaly. There are five HUGE stones, like, the size of small huts, carved into the shape of raths (chariots). They don’t look like chariots to me, but who knows, they could have looked like that in ancient days. They’re huge structures that to my eyes look like little homes or temples. The part that sets this site apart from all other such sites is that each rath is made of ONE stone only. Only one! How did the sculptors do this? And why? But one can never get into the mind of the artist, we are left to our own opinions and judgments. But one thing is for sure – these things are works of genius. First of all, they’re REALLY old, and, obviously, still standing. Second, they’re all made of one stone each. Third, there’s no mistakes anywhere. There is one random stone elephant (which is the SIZE of an elephant!) made of one stone as well. Now, compare this with what we call Stonehenge… I don’t need to say any more. India could have had its own Stonehenge, but instead some artist came and converted it into 5 or 6 beautiful sculptural masterpieces!

 

Next we ate some amazing south Indian food for breakfast (it was around 9 AM by this time) and continued on our journey to Pondicherry, which was our next stop. When we got to Pondicherry, I felt like I had entered another world. The streets are all well-kempt, with no litter anywhere to be seen (ok, not ANYwhere… but where don’t you find litter?) and everything is so… western. We arrived at around 11:00 AM and made our way to the International Guest House of Sri Aurobindo Ashram, where I was to be staying. So we finalized my booking and I found myself in my room in no time. My coursework was officially done, and I finally disembarked at Pondicherry.

 

The next morning itself I went to go see sunrise at the beach, which is literally 2 minutes of a walk away from where I stay. I relaxed at the beach, toured around the area, checked out Aurobindo Ashram… Pondicherry is like the California of India. It is a coastal location, warm weather, cool people (everyone wears shorts, even at meetings!), new ideas, innovations, etc… I really like this place. I probably won’t be writing much more until I leave Pondicherry.

 

I’m on vacation.