Of Coconuts, Wells, and Hidden Powers

I saw Nageshji (the man whose house I eat at) prying open coconuts before I went inside for breakfast today, and I asked him what he was doing... he said, “Well I'm just getting the coconuts ready to be used for food!” Right next to him I saw a rope that was lying on the ground and I asked him, what's that for? He said it was for bringing up water from the well... so I asked, where is your well? He showed me – it was just in his yard – but it's so covered up with trees and greenery that I couldn't see it from where we were. He took me over to the well and that was an interesting experience for me. It was the first time I saw a real well, from which people actually bring up water to drink (it's the water I drink too! At their house. Naturally, it's filtered before it reaches us for drinking). I then had a thought – and I asked him – “How do you find places to dig a well? I don't see spots where you tried and failed...” and he responded, “Ah, I'll show you.” So he went over, grabbed a coconut, and put it in his palm like a football (with the points facing away from and towards him, rather than side to side) at waist-level. It looked like this: _<>_  ... imagine the underscores to be his hand. Then he walked closer to the well, and as he moved right up to the well, the coconut literally stood up in his palm!!! It looked like this: _∂_ … it was ridiculous! He said, here, you try it! So I did, and sure enough, the coconut stood up in my palm too!!!!! It literally stood up. I don't know how to explain this phenomenon except that it was the most fascinating feeling, in my palm, having a coconut move of its own volition, standing up.

 

The man across the street called out to us, saying, hey, come over to my house and tell me if I have places to dig a well too! So we went over there, coconut in hand, and Nageshji gave me the coconut, saying, “Here, you do it.” And I did!! I walked around the yard, and as I was walking around, we found a good 3 or 4 spots where the house owner could easily dig a well. There were some spots where the coconut almost fell back over on itself because it stood up so much! I was literally in awe. Here's the interesting part about this second adventure (going over to this man’s house): I was wondering why he called us over when he could have easily done it himself; but then he said, “Well, I can't do it!” And that's when Nageshji told me something else – he said, “Not everyone can do this. It's something that only a few people can do. You have something known as the ‘jala-rekha’ [literally, ‘water-line’] on your hand. Hence, you can do it. This man here does not have it, so he cannot do it.” Then Nageshji gave the coconut to the man and he tried, but it didn't happen!! Literally, he went to the same spots Nageshji and I went to but the coconut didn't stand up in his hand. I was so intrigued. As it turns out, I have the jala-rekha... I thought, wow, I have a special power! I asked Nageshji which line on my palm the jala-rekha was, but he said he couldn't tell me which line it was. Instead, he said, “I knew you could do it just by looking at your face!”

 

This is just one of the many things I'm learning here about myself and about life (and the many things we miss while living in the concrete jungles of America!)... I’m still somewhat in shock about this coconut thing. If I hadn't had the direct experience of it, I wouldn't have believed it. But I literally got the experience of it on the spot! What impressed me most was that Nageshji said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was just some normal thing (and to him, it is!). He said this is the only way he knows how to find a spot to dig a well, it's just something he's always been doing, and this is something they've been doing since times immemorial. Logically, there must have been some way they found spots to dig their wells! Think about how in touch with nature these people are!!! I'm still in awe about this. They are so in touch with the natural forces around them... imagine how much more there is to know about life! Slowly, I am learning to become in tune with nature as they are, and I think this might be the biggest fruit of my adventures here in Sringeri. I know I have lots left to learn, but these small incidents are certainly encouraging landmarks along the way!

Chinmaya International Foundation

When you have an adventurous spirit and live in a foreign country by yourself, fun and exciting things are bound to happen. This effect is amplified if you have made lots of new friends in said foreign country, who also have adventurous spirits and are of the “anytime, anywhere” bend. The effect is even further amplified if those friends are scattered across the country and have a relatively strong grasp of their respective locations. Finally, the effect is maximized if you have the facility of traveling when and to where your friends invite you.

 

This is my life.

 

Previously, based on the advice of Guruji (a.k.a. Swami Tejomayananda; refer to the “Calcutta and Mumbai” post from October, I added to it a little bit – sorry!) I got in touch with Swami Advayananda, who is the resident Acharya at Chinmaya International Foundation (CIF). I actually know Swami Advayananda from before, because I studied at Chinmaya International Residential School (CIRS) when I was 9 years old in Coimbatore, Tamilnadu, during 5^th grade. He was the resident Acharya at the time at CIRS, by the name of Brahmachari Samahit Chaitanya. We used to call him “Bhaiya” (older brother) there. I haven’t had any contact with him since then, and this is 12 years later. He has since then been upgraded to the status of “Swami” from “Brahmachari” and is now known as Swami Advayananda.

 

So I had sent him an email, and I was very happy to know that he remembered me from CIRS! Our communication was in Sanskrit, which was the coolest part. It is amazing how the world turns, and with each new turn comes a new adventure and a new (or long lost) connection. So many years later, and what a way to rediscover our relationship – through the medium of Sanskrit! He invited me to CIF, and told me that a good time to come would be from November 3^rd to 5^th, because that was when Guruji would be there with a host of campers who would be traveling with him on his tour through India. During those days, there would be a bunch of presentations about CIF, so it would be the best method for me to learn about CIF in a short amount of time. I subsequently arranged to travel to CIF from the 2^nd to the 7^th of November.

 

On the night of November 1^st I took a bus from Sringeri to Bangalore, from where I planned to fly to Cochin, Kerala. When I got on the bus, the guy who would be sitting next to me helped me put my stuff under my seat. He was speaking fluent English, so my curiosity was piqued (because nobody in Sringeri speaks English). I asked him where he was from, and he said he was from Bangalore. I asked him what he was doing in Sringeri. He said he was there with a group of about 30 other people (they were all approximately my age, or up to only a few years older), and they were all visiting Sringeri as a kind of field trip, to see the different temples and important spots of this place. He said “Yeah, we’re actually a big group of us, and we’re part of an organization – you may have heard of it – called Chinmaya Mission…” And the rest is history. Basically I immediately became one with the group, and was received as their long lost friend from Chicago. They were all amazed that I was also part of Chinmaya Mission pretty much since birth, and it gave us all a chance to reflect on how wide the spread of this organization is. We became friends instantly, and the overnight journey to Bangalore was a much more comfortable one than I thought it was going to be. I told them I was in fact on my way to CIF, another Chinmaya location! When we reached Bangalore, they all helped me find a bus from the Majestic (the bus stand I wrote about earlier, refer to the posts I wrote while in Bangalore) to Bangalore International Airport, from where I was flying to Cochin. We parted ways when I got on that bus, and I was left with such a beautiful feeling of connectedness to the world. This is just one of the benefits of being part of such a major worldwide organization. This particular incident was so random, but so welcomed. I am still amazed that it happened!

 

It was the flight from Bangalore to Cochin – as I mentioned in an earlier post – that inspired me to keep writing on this blog. While we were in the air, I saw mountains that reached up beyond the foggy morning mist that surrounded them, and it was this particular incident that touched me somewhere deep in my heart. I decided that I would not quit writing about my experiences in India. Sometimes you just have to take a flight to find inspiration. As a friend and teacher of mine once said, to fly is the most freeing sensation that one can feel. I experienced the truth of this statement up in the air between Bangalore and Cochin that day, and I am grateful for it. I will never forget the sight of endless mountains outside my window, all defiantly reaching up into the sky to extend beyond the fog that attempted so earnestly to capture them. Their majesty, their steadfastness, and their eternal appeal to the sun to shine down upon them made me understand that there is much more to life than simply the tasks we set out in front of us. We have so much to experience before we die; not just this time, but time and time again in lives past, present, and future. Let us not forget about the millions of experiences waiting to be had by us as we spend our lives doing the small tasks we appoint for ourselves!

 

And it is with this inspiration that I continue to write.

 

When I arrived at Cochin International Airport in Kerala on the 2^nd, I took a taxi to CIF. The Chinmaya International Foundation is located in Veliyanad, Edakkattuvayal Village, Ernakulum District, Kerala. The actual location of the Foundation is known as Adi Shankara Nilayam, the birthplace of Adi Shankaracharya (more about Adi Shankaracharya here). It was evening by this time, so I went to go meet Swami Advayananda in his room. He received me with warmth such as I have almost never experienced before. It was as if I was truly meeting an older brother after 12 years! He had really not forgotten me – he told me stories of things I used to do, or that he and I used to do while I was at CIRS. He and I went on a walk outside, and that very evening he showed me the birth room of Adi Shankaracharya (“Adi Shankara” for short). This room has been converted to a small meditation chamber, with a lamp that is lit 24/7 inside it, and is located in the original maternal ancestral home of Adi Shankara. The entire home is actually a nice place to just sit and meditate, but the birth room is especially potent with vibrations conducive to meditation. I already felt at home in the presence of Swami Advayananda.

 

My first full day at CIF was spent entirely in preparation for Guruji and the incoming campers (who were mostly coming from the USA and Canada, though some were from other countries and some were from within India itself). I was fortunate to already gain an opportunity to serve! I helped out as much as I could. In that time I learned quite a bit about the layout of the place, and met lots of people who work there. I don’t speak Malayalam (the language of Kerala) but I’ve learned the art of communicating with gestures since coming to Sringeri. As a result, I made lots of friends and connections right away – I already loved the place, but boy was there a lot in store for me!

 

The next couple of days were spent with the campers who came with Guruji on the Chinmaya Dham Yatra (which is when travelers go around India learning about the different Chinmaya Mission projects going on). During these days, there were an innumerable amount of presentations about CIF and the current ongoing projects there; I learned all about CIF in just two days, which is why Swami Advayanandaji had invited me there during this time in the first place – good planning! I learned about many different opportunities for involvement, saw presentations on many projects, watched an inspirational talk about the importance of Sanskrit, and ate lots of good food!

 

Naturally, I visited the library as well, where the real research goes on… I was absolutely amazed by this place. It is very well furnished, and the books are arranged by topic, rather than by “call number” or any codes. Unsurprisingly, I spent a good few hours just browsing the books and looking at different topics that were available. I must go back to this place some day… It was fascinating. For the first time, I saw and touched a real manuscript that must have been at least a couple of hundred years old. I saw the instruments used for writing, and was amazed to learn that it was all written on leaves! Imagine – even 200 years ago, (but I’m talking about times immemorial – 5000 years ago even), in ancient India, the method for doing things was so different from the way we do things now. Everything was natural. They used to use palm leaves as their parchment for writing, banana leaves as their plates for eating, clay for their pots and bricks (though the bricks from the Harappan civilization are still in almost perfect condition – from literally over 5000 years ago… How did they do that?), cow dung as their fuel, herbs and other natural ingredients (such as cow urine – check this out) as their medicines, neem branches (more about neem here) as their toothbrushes, and probably several things that we don’t even know about now.

 

And then look at how we live our lives – almost totally synthetic and virtual. Our medicines, our food, our clothes, our tools, our technology (the paper we write on is on a computer screen!), our transportation, even our bodies… what if we were to start living naturally again? That’s not to say that we give up our technology – for without technology, the world is a big and scary place – but perhaps if we start to consider the benefits of living more naturally (buying natural or organic food is probably the only way we can do that for now, because there are hardly more ways to be natural in today’s world… who would start brushing with a neem stick? Yet, we should “think natural”); perhaps we should consider the relationship between the amount of synthetic things in our lives and the lack of immunity in our bodies? In India, the level of immunity is much higher – why is that? I think it has to do with the fact that they are exposed to the elements throughout their lives. What is the benefit of living a synthetic life if we are essentially making ourselves weaker? Consider: why do we do what we do in the first place? We become educated so that we might get a job someday. We get a job so that we might make money and be eligible to get married someday. We get married, have kids, etc. to propagate the family line, have company, and essentially be productive members of society. We make money so that we may one day save it up and retire to live a peaceful life at home when we are too old to travel or simply when we’ve had enough of working. But what good is all of this if our immunity is sacrificed? What good is living a synthetic life if we cannot even go to foreign countries without the fear of becoming ill? What good is living with all the riches in the world if we are not even strong enough to face dirt and dust? The media controls a lot of our lives – they say things and we listen. Have we ever tried to do research on our own to find the truth behind marketing campaigns? Why do we have to be slaves to such advertising? Notice how it changes every month or two… What are we missing here? Is the world really “realizing” new things every month, or is there a plan behind it all? What happened to the natural life? People who were living just fine before Purell now feel the need to use it all the time for there is no “safety” without it. We must think before we make decisions or habits based on the media.

 

I am not saying that everyone should make radical changes in their lives, I am simply asking everyone to think about life a little bit as we live it. What is the meaning of life? Is it to master the stock market? Is it to lock oneself up in a perfectly “clean” room somewhere? Why do we do what we do? If we just think a little bit, I guarantee our lives will change on their own. Thinking is the key to a meaningful life.

 

…But I digress. Now back to the story…

 

During the stay of the campers, I was very happy to find that I knew a few of them! I also made new friends out of lots of Aunties and Uncles from back home (the States) and from other places around the world (for example, Singapore). I got to spend time with Guruji as well, which was an added bonus. After the campers left, the people who were still at CIF included Swami Advayananda, a few other Acharyas, people who work there, some volunteers who came to help with the camp (and some permanent volunteers), and me. I must say that the benefits of being part of and involved with a big organization like Chinmaya Mission are immeasurable. Everywhere we go we make friends in a very short amount of time because our base is the same, and of course we receive support from all over the world! The most amazing part is that our reach then spans the whole world. I have invites now to travel to so many new countries!

 

Later, we were joined by Brahmachari Samvid Chaitanya, who I had met in Varanasi the previous year (check out this post from Varanasi in March 2008)…  I was so surprised to see him! Amazingly, having met him before, I had a special connection with him – he was previously the Sanskrit Acharya at the Vedanta course in Mumbai. I was so glad he came, because we had become really good friends that day we had met in Varanasi (even though it was only one day!). To see him again was a real pleasure. We exchanged notes about what had happened since then to both of us… To have friends like this is indeed a boon – you meet when you meet, and exchange stories each time about what adventures transpired since last time you met. Lucky for me, as a result of my previous adventures in India (and my current ones), I have a plethora of these types of friends, scattered all over the country and around the world! It is indeed a real joy to look back at how far I have come since the first time I set out in December 2007… It has only been 2 years since then, and so much has happened! I hope I continue to have the opportunity to travel like this throughout my life.

 

One particularly good new friend I made during this trip was Shibani Didi. She was in the same batch as Shayur (refer to the post “The People I have Met in Varanasi” from March 2008 and the other March 2008 posts for info about Shayur) in the Vedanta course at Sandeepany. I call her Shibani Didi because she is truly like a didi (older sister) to me, and even though we only hung out for a week, I feel like she has become a friend for life. She invited me to come to Hyderabad in the beginning of January where she will be for a conference about a particular translation project (a program that uses Sanskrit as the medium between translating from one Indian language to another; the conference is about a new version of this program that will translate from English to Hindi… very interesting) called “Ausaaraka” (more about Anusaaraka here). Now I have an invite to visit Hyderabad! Totally excited… I hope I can make it out there.

 

When it was time for me to leave, I couldn’t believe I had only been at CIF for one week. It felt as though I had known these people my whole life (well, to be fair, I have known Swami Advayananda since I was 9… technically). I got my things packed and prepared to leave on the morning of November 7^th. A taxi driver came to pick me up from CIF, and we left for the airport. When we got to the airport, I went inside to get checked in, but the people from GoAir (which was the airline I was flying) were not at their check-in counter! I went outside to the curbside counter and asked the girl what happened. She said that since there was only half an hour (half an hour! And I didn’t even have any check-in baggage) left before the flight, I could not go inside anymore. I told her that I did not have any check-in baggage, and I could just run to the gate (which was literally right around the corner – the airport is not huge). She said there was nothing she could do, as the people had left their counter. I told her that she was also a GoAir employee, couldn’t she check me in? (The reason this was so important was that if you don’t check in at Indian airports, you cannot go past the security check.) She said there was nothing she could do, and that she was busy. I told her I needed to get on the flight, but she just would not budge. I was definitely not pleased with GoAir’s service… She made me re-book for the next day’s flight (they have only one flight a day from Cochin to Bangalore), and I went back to CIF. When I went back to CIF, everyone was so surprised to see me… wasn’t I supposed to be gone? But there I was, to spend yet another night at CIF. This day turned out to be a blessing, as I got the opportunity to meet another Acharya named Sagar Chaitanya, who I ended up relating to immensely. He was a wonderful person to talk to, and a good reason to stay back an extra night at CIF. I felt blessed to be given the opportunity to stay back at Adi Shankara Nilayam another day! Looks like the spirit of Adi Shankara did not want me to leave just yet…

 

The next day, I said my farewells and finally left. I left super early because I did not want to be caught in the same situation twice… Interestingly, the same girl that had made me re-book because she “could not do anything” the previous day was at the check-in counter the next day. I exclaimed, “So you DO work here!” and her response was simply, “Oh, you are so early today!” I silently fumed but realized that any argument now was pointless. I decided I would no longer fly GoAir.

 

When I returned to Sringeri, I was again amazed at the beauty I have come to accept as my home for this year. I am glad I get the opportunity to travel, just so that I may come back every time to appreciate again and again this beautiful place I live in.

A Mother's Touch

My mother left Sringeri a couple of days ago and boy did she make this place a home! My room beforehand was very much a college boy’s room – very bare, no supplies, not the cleanest… but when my mom came, she immediately started organizing, adding, fixing, rearranging; and now my room is a room fit for a prince! I cannot get into the details of everything that happened, but basically I wanted to mention that my mom transformed this place from a guesthouse to a home. Thanks mom!

Back in Sringeri, Beautiful Sringeri

I am back to being surrounded by nature, back to studying, back to simplicity. I realize that the reason I came to India this time was for exactly these three things… nature, studies, and simplicity. Of course, right now studies are at the forefront of my attention, but nature and simplicity are an integral part of life here. Surely any discrepancy between my description and what Sringeri is actually like is due to my inability to capture it with words (and yet I try, if only for the sake of sharing the glorious experience I am having) and my own poor interpretation of what it is really like; and anything that is pleasing to read is without a doubt due solely to the actual beauty of that which I am describing!

It is still raining heavily here. I am told that this is unnatural; the cold season should have started already, and the rain should have stopped or at least diminished. The natives of Sringeri have confirmed this (they are more in touch with the weather patterns of this place, as they have lived here their entire lives), which is only further proof of the changing global weather conditions we are witnessing. What will it take to get us to stop polluting, stop wasting, stop destroying our world, and get in touch with nature to heal it? We call it Mother Earth. Mother Nature. Would you throw trash at your own mother, or dump waste on her, or tear off chunks of her flesh, or inebriate her with fumes? We should be ashamed of ourselves for saying “Mother Earth” and at the same time doing all these terrible things to her. If you feel actual pain when you see people throwing trash on the ground, then you know how I feel, you know what I mean. If you don’t, then try to see the earth as your mother and you will understand. Until we all start feeling this pain, we will not be able to do anything in a holistic and organized manner to stop the imminent destruction of our world. I suppose I will leave you with this thought for now.

Please do not just read this and think, “Ah, Varun has gone crazy, he’s seen one jungle and now he wants to save the planet” and do nothing, because it is something that relates to each and every one of us, not just me. If we continue to pollute our world without thinking about it, our sources of drinking water will be contaminated, the air we breathe will be toxic, and our lives (not just mine) depend on these things. If we continue to apply our principle of procrastination to this particular matter, it will be too late to do anything about it. Please think twice before using your car instead of public transportation or a carpool system, think twice before leaving the faucet on when you brush your teeth or shave, or leaving the shower on for too long before getting into it. Please think before throwing things away that can be recycled, think before taking too much food on your plate. Please think twice before buying a product that cannot be recycled or reused. Analyze your own thoughts – are you thinking positively? Are you being a productive member of society? Even our thoughts affect our world. Whatever little we do is enough, if everyone chips in. If everyone does these simple things (and I am only asking you to think!) we can yet turn things around and hope for a cleaner future on our planet.

One may think this is a “fear tactic” or just a scam. But look at the facts, all of them, and decide for yourself. Don’t listen to anyone else; do some research on your own. Then you will understand that the priority should be the earth, for the good of all.

Think about it this way – when you have to use the bathroom, do you think about how much studying you have left to get done, or what your “to do list” says? No. You think about one thing and one thing only: where the nearest bathroom is. Until you go to the bathroom and relieve yourself, any amount of studying or tasks accomplished is useless. If a man stranded in the desert is given the choice between a mountain of gold or a glass of water, he will definitely go for the glass of water. Why? Gold will not cure his thirst. It is simply a matter of priority. In 25 or 30 years, when we are supposed to be using the knowledge we gained in college or the degree we secured, if the world is not habitable or is even closer to its destruction, then of what use is a medical or a business degree? Of what use is the best music in the world if the world itself is not a safe place to be? What good is all our money if we cannot enjoy the benefits of having it? If we are sitting inside our home and we have a wrapper in hand, we don’t just throw it on the floor, we go to the trash can and put it there. Why can’t the planet be our home? It is sad that someone needs to get us to think about these things. So get your medical degrees, be successful businessmen and women, enjoy your money, enjoy your music; but at the same time do not forget the reason your life is possible. Think about the earth, your world, your planet, your mother.

Here is a very thought-provoking presentation called "Water & Earth by 2070" that was put together by the former president of India, Abdul Kalam (make it full screen, you can read it better):

Further reading/viewing:

Some facts about global warming

An article on vegetarianism and why it relates to saving the environment

Calcutta and Mumbai

From September 15^th to October 4^th we had Dussehra/Navaratri break from the university, and in this time I met up with my mom in Kolkata (Calcutta) and from there we toured north India. We went from Calcutta (and surrounding areas) to Delhi, and from Delhi to Mumbai. From Mumbai we traveled south to Mangalore, and from Mangalore we took a taxi to Sringeri, where we are now. Mom will be staying with me for a couple of weeks, just to check out Sringeri and settle me in.

The trip in itself was fantastic. I cannot do it justice by writing about it (much like all of my other trips). Some of the highlights of the trip:

In Calcutta, when we were visiting the Dakshineshwar temple, within the temple grounds there was a shooting going on for some Tamil film. It was an action scene, no less. We got to see guys get beaten and punched up (pretend) and the hero look all cool (in a temple grounds!). It was interesting; I don’t think I’ve ever seen a film shooting before. There was a whole ring of people around the crew, watching the action. What I find interesting about this is that all customs, stigmas, superstitions, etc. dissolve in the face of a film shooting. Fighting, disgusting clothing, etc. all in a temple grounds is definitely faux pas, but when it comes to filming for a movie, all rules are void. Another thing is, actors/actresses/politicians are somehow above “law” or “rules” because whenever they go somewhere, they don’t wait in line; if they do something against, the police are content to just get their signatures; when they go abroad, they are treated as if they are gods. What I don’t understand is: aren’t these celebrities also people? Don’t they eat the same food we do? Don’t they bleed the same way we do? Don’t they have the same issues we do? Why are they treated differently? Admittedly, people worship them, but why? Their job is simply to act in movies. What makes them more knowledgeable about life than another person just because their job entitles them to fame? Anyways. That happened.

While we were in Calcutta, we traveled to the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON) ashram in Mayapur, West Bengal. This was also a fascinating experience. People from all over the world were at this ashram, just singing “Hare Krishna Hare Rama” all the time. One thing that bugs me is that under the guise of “religion” or “spirituality” people do all sorts of silly/crazy things. For example, the people who come from abroad treat it as a vacation to come to the ISKCON ashram. They make some money abroad, which translates to thousands of Rupees in India, so they can work for a year or two abroad and then come live the rest of their lives in India without worrying about making any more money. This is great, except that life should be used productively (in my opinion) if one has the opportunity. Instead, these people just lock themselves up in ashrams and live the rest of their lives ignoring the rest of the world. That being said, what we saw at this ashram was pretty cool. Here’s a video I recorded while there:

In Mumbai, we went to several different places of interest; one being a store called Good Earth. It was quite a remarkable store – everything was super futuristic (again, in my opinion) and had a sense of the “new” in it, which made the entire store just a fun place to be in. In addition to this, on our way out, we ran into Deepika Padukone the actress. (I know, I know. I just mentioned that they are just people too… yet, it’s something interesting to mention for people who are interested! Just because I feel one way doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.)

We also went to the Chinmaya Mission ashram in Mumbai, called Sandeepany Sadhanalaya. It is where a famous two-year Vedanta course is conducted, and is also the home base for Swami Tejomayananda (lovingly known as Guruji). Swami Tejomayananda is the worldwide head of Chinmaya Mission presently, the successor of Swami Chinmayananda himself. This particular visit was made so that I could meet Guruji. We have a deep connection with Chinmaya Mission, dating back to before I can remember (before I was 5 years old). I was literally raised as a part of the organization, and have benefited immensely from this connection. Although my father was my first guru in terms of spiritual teaching, Chinmaya Mission has helped me expand and develop my own vision for living and has taught me many things regarding the Self. I have also made many lifelong friends as a result of this association. I am deeply grateful to the organization, and thus the connection we have established there is very important to me. I am, however, not biased towards Chinmaya Mission, and would not say that it is “better” than any other organization; one thing that the Mission has taught me is that each person has his or her own path to finding him or herself, and thus the innumerable organizations created for the purpose of helping seekers find themselves are all equally valid. The plethora we see before us today is simply a manifestation of this truth. I am very much for the acceptance among different organizations of each other based on this timeless piece of wisdom, and I believe that this is also the reason that religions and religious organizations should not be concerned with how many followers they have; for as soon as they shift their focus from finding the Self, their very existence becomes invalid.

The purpose of our visit to Saneepany was to meet Guruji. I wanted to tell him what I was doing in India (studying Sanskrit, shaastras, etc.) and to see what he had to say about that. He was very happy and suggested that I get in contact with the Chinmaya International Foundation, where they are doing research on Sanskrit and Sanskrit-related topics. I told him I would. We proceeded to meet a few of the brahmacharis (including a couple of my old friends from back home!) that were studying there in the two-year Vedanta course. Overall, it was a very productive and inspiring experience. I hope I get to go back there someday!  

The contrast between Calcutta and Mumbai is striking. Calcutta is full of the old-school style of life, it is still very “old” in its appearance and feel. It has many remnants of the British rule over India (like the Victoria Memorial) and therefore its feel is very slow-paced. Mumbai is full of new-school everything, from buildings to shops to people and lifestyle. It is the most western city I have been to in India thus far. Nonetheless, it is very much India in its approach, and this combination makes it a very happy city to be in. I like it.

After visiting these places, coming back to Sringeri is a change worth noting.

A Serious Question

What if there were auto-rickshaws in America? I mean, not just the vehicles, but the drivers as well? What would America be like? One big racetrack, I think. Naturally, autos are a little slower than cars, but they are still considered a useful tool. And on the ever-so-smooth roads of America, they’d be in heaven!

 

http://rickshawchallenge.com/images/AutoRickshawAnatomy.jpg

 

The lanes in America wouldn’t have any meaning anymore, and the streets would look something like this:

 Or this:

An insider's view:

 

What about the drivers themselves? What would they be like in America? They would have to compete with taxis, but the public transportation situation in America would be boosted by about 500%. What if we brought these back:

 

 

These are just questions, but I think it’d be a funny world if we had auto-rickshaws in the States. Feel free to post comments about what you think it would be like! I want to know! 

Specific People

Before continuing, I must first acknowledge here that it has been many moons since I last posted on this blog (don’t be fooled by the date of this particular post, it is only being posted in November, though the actual contents of the post do correlate with the posting date), and for this delay I sincerely apologize. I encountered so much in so little time that I was overwhelmed by the intake of information, thus resulting in my inability to write. But it was a flight I took from Bangalore to Cochin that inspired me to continue writing… I’ll get to that later.

 

In this post I want to talk about some of the people I have interacted with in Sringeri, whether that is on the level of student-teacher relationships, friendships, or both, or just general interactions. I find that it would be impossible to successfully explain everything that I feel with regard to the people here, but I will certainly try my best. I want to explain my interactions with people here to frame the rest of my accounts regarding Sringeri in a context that can be understood later. Think of this as a “reference” post.

 

The first and foremost mention should undoubtedly go to the principal/headmaster of this university, Professor Ramanuja Devanathan. He is incredible, in every sense of the word. He is the Dumbledore of this institution, and I do not say that lightly. He is magical. His magic is that of commanding respect and attention, and he deserves every bit of it. Every interaction I have had with him, or seen him having with others, has been amazingly direct. He is able to handle probably around 100 tasks (or more) at once without seeming overwhelmed; he gives speeches in front of the students as a headmaster should and provides words of encouragement and criticism to everyone equally (showing that he knows and cares about everyone); he caters to the needs of individuals (students and teachers alike) on a micro-scale, but also caters to the needs of the university as a whole on the macro-scale with an astounding and adroit ease in switching between both. He is a master manager and friendly person, with palpable power in his speech and actions. I cannot say enough about him. He is my mentor here, my guide and my protector, as well as a friend.

 

The next mention should surely go to my Vyaakarana teacher, Priyavrata Mishra. He is a PhD student here at the university, and was the first of my teachers to be introduced to me. He teaches me Vyaakarana and Uttararaamacaritam. I find that every class we have turns somehow into a philosophical discussion about something or another, many times about liberation and often about dharma. He is only two years older than me, but his depth of knowledge and clarity about life amazes me. Our thought pattern is very similar, and our opinions/thoughts match on a lot of levels, but observing him has taught me that I have so much left to learn. Naturally, I have learnt from him about much more than just the subjects he teaches me; he integrates a modern perspective with ancient knowledge that makes him a very rare type of person. He is easily my role model here, but has also become my closest friend in Sringeri. He’s originally from Orissa (a state in eastern India), and his father is an English teacher back home, so he knows Oriya (Orissa’s state language), Hindi, English, and Sanskrit; but he is also fluent in Telugu, Marathi, and Kannada. Because he has been in Sringeri for three years, he knows the lay of the land pretty well, and is therefore also my guide around the city.

 

My Nyaaya teacher is named Shyaamasundara. He’s also a PhD student here, but a very sharp contrast as a person. He knows only Kannada and Sanskrit, learned in the Shaaradaa Mutt here, and I cannot help but be taken over by his ostensible innocence. Maybe he’s not innocent, though, because he betrays his depth of personality sometimes in class, but he laughs or smiles at the smallest of things. He also always laughs any time anyone else laughs. I am amazed by his depth of clarity (everyone just has so much clarity around here) and his method of presentation in class. He makes everything so clear, and makes sure the student (me) knows what he is talking about before moving on. His presence is a calming one, never unnerving, but he is always aware of everything, extremely observant. He knows when I’m confused or something even close to confused just by looking at me, even when (I swear) I don’t betray any sign of being confused while in class. Since he knows Kannada and Sanskrit, and I don’t know Kannada, when we come across something that I don’t understand, he is somehow able to convey its meaning through Sanskrit alone. I don’t know how he does it, really, because often times he just repeats the same word or concept and I end up understanding it on my own. Perhaps this has to do with the concept of “sphota” in Sanskrit (look it up on Wikipedia). All in all, I’m honored to be his student.

 

Food is a pretty important part of one’s life, as we generally eat three times a day, so it is about the lady who feeds me that I would like to write next. (I stopped eating with the two guys that would come to my room morning and evening to make food, because it was quite time consuming and also left my room relatively dirty on a daily basis. The reason I came to India was not to make food or learn how to survive on my own; it was to learn Sanskrit and the Shaastras. In the process, whatever life-training I receive is of course welcome, but I realized that I should not be engaging in activities that are so time-consuming that I cannot focus on my studies.) The lady who feeds me is named Usha, and the students who eat at her house call her Usha Akka as a form of respect. “Akka” means “didi” in Hindi, and there is no equivalent in English. It is a term of respect for an older sister figure. Since Usha Akka only speaks Kannada, I have had to pick it up in order to communicate with her. Which is awesome, because it means I will be forced to learn it, therefore (hopefully) expediting the process of learning the language.

 

Another person I must write about is Shivannaji. Shivannaji is one of the workers in the university, in charge of running errands for the headmaster, going to the bank for the university, and taking care of the posts associated with the university. He has been given the challenging responsibility of taking care of me and my needs while here. I call him the “Hanuman” of the university because he literally takes care of everything and everyone all the time. I don’t know how he does it, but it is fascinating to me! He makes me feel good everything I pass by him. I have traveled on his motorcycle more than any other vehicle around here so far. (And as an aside, traveling by motorcycle is so much fun. I must learn how to ride one. Over here, everyone looks at me in surprise when I tell them I don’t know how to ride one; for them it’s as common as riding a bicycle… I always have to explain that in America, not everyone rides motorcycles because the distances traveled are far more than the distances traveled here.) Shivannaji is awesome.

 

Another awesome character is Mohanji, the head guard of the university campus. He has also been given charge of taking care of me. The needs he takes care of are of a slightly different nature; rather than taking me to the doctor or to the post office, he does things like refill the water in my water filter. He is a great person to talk to, and I am often brought to tears by his passion for his work and also the circumstances he works under. The guards here are severely underpaid (this is a government institution, what more can you expect) but they keep this campus safe and stay on guard 24/7. Mohanji has told me that he can easily find another job that pays more, but because of his devotion to the headmaster, he stays here. He feels as though all the students on this campus are his own children, and therefore he works extra hard. He has trained all the guards to be professional and wear uniforms. He even works in the gardens on the campus. I don’t understand where he finds his motivation, but then, like I said, Devanathan Acharya (the headmaster) is magical.

 

I guess that’s all for now, but when I come across more people I just have to write about, I will!

Classes, Schedule, and People

I am told that when classes go slowly initially, the student is not intimidated; after a solid start, even if the teacher picks up the speed tenfold, it doesn’t matter. The student learns faster and is more comfortable in the class. This is the way classes were always taught in the Gurukulam system of India, and it is therefore no wonder the students were able to learn so much in such a short amount of time. When things changed eventually, due to imperial influences, school became a chore because even when the student did not understand the basics the teacher kept chugging on. Without a solid start, it becomes impossible for a student to fully grasp the material of a subject if the class moves too fast. Yet this is the method of teaching that the entire world has adopted based on the influence of the British style of education during the time of their global empire. Luckily, that influence has not reached the remote corners of India where the ancient method of teaching still survives. This is the way I am being taught here, and I could not be happier with the system. I have never been so comfortable learning new material before; I feel like I have a grasp of whatever I am currently being taught before the next topic arrives.

 

Now, my classes are in full swing. We started off slowly, I became comfortable with my subjects, and then we took off! Rarely am I seen not immersed in a book or not studying something (I have honestly never wanted to study this much before – except for maybe last time I came to India). This is the purpose for which I came, and I’m in the right place. I have been informed by several independent sources that Sringeri is indeed presently the best location for Sanskrit and Shaastra (which translates to “scripture,” although the word scripture is not quite correct because it gives the Shaastras a religious overtone which is totally not true, but let’s say “ancient science” for now) studies at the university and graduate level [officially; I’m sure unofficial studies at this level and with this method take place in several other locations, but doing work within established institutions has its benefits in the long run].

 

My classes are as follows, and though I don’t have a thoroughly defined schedule as yet, I will try to put them into a comprehensible frame for reference. I do not have the same schedule every day – this may seem like an obvious statement, but it’s worth noting because my schedule literally changes every day. So the classes are: 1) Vyaakarana Shastra, which is the science of Sanskrit grammar; 2) Nyaaya Shastra, which is Vedic epistemology (I will explain this one later); 3) Uttararaamacaritam (pronounced UT-tuh-ruh-RAA-muh-chuh-ri-tum, and literally means, “Later, Ram’s Character”), which is a Sanskrit play from the 14^th century by the playwright Bhavabhooti about Ram’s actions and character after defeating the evil king Ravana in Lanka; 4) Raghuvamsham, which is a mahaakaavyam (epic poem) in Sanskrit by Kalidas, one of the greatest Indian poets of all time, about the Raghu Dynasty, the dynasty in which Ram was; and 5) Bhagavad Gita, a 15-minute class where the teacher does a lead-and-follow read-through of one chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, with the purpose of memorization in mind, and with explanation of the meaning of the chapter as a whole – we do one chapter at a time for two weeks, and then we move on to the next chapter, and every two weeks I am supposed to have a new chapter memorized, so after nine months I should know the Bhagavad Gita by heart (there are 18 chapters).

 

As for the schedule of these classes, I generally have Vyaakarana and Uttararaamacaritam daily (when I say daily, I mean every day, including Saturday and Sunday), though the time is not fixed. I have Nyaaya on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. The time is not totally fixed for Nyaaya either, though it could be at 10:00 AM or 4:00 PM. It depends on what time I have fixed with the teacher the previous day. Raghuvamsham is supposed to be on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at 5:00 PM, but the teacher has been so busy that we have only had three classes so far, and we won’t be having more class until at least the ninth of September because the teacher is leaving in a few days for an exposition of one of the school plays in another city, as he is one of the directors, so he and all the students in the play will be gone until the ninth. My Bhagavad Gita class is supposed to start on the 1^st of September. I am really excited for this class, because I have always wanted to memorize the Gita, and here is my opportunity to do so in class format! I am told that it will happen without any effort on my part, such is the ancient method of memorization. Nervousness. Can I do it? We will see…

 

My daily routine is pretty simple. I wake up at 3:00 AM, perform my daily morning rituals (brush teeth, heat up and drink about a liter of water, go to the bathroom, shower) and by the time they are over it is usually around 4:15 or so. At 4:30 I go to do Yoga in the main school building, where the Yoga teacher (who is one of my friends, and I will write about him later) holds a daily Yoga class in one of the conference halls. The Yoga sessions include a physical work out, breathing exercises, postures, and meditation. Yoga ends at around 6. I use the next two hours to study or read, then at 8:00 two of my friends come to my room (one of them is the Yoga teacher) to make breakfast with me. We make breakfast and eat it by about 9:30 or so, followed by clean-up, then the school day begins at 10:00. At 1:00 PM I go to eat lunch at a home nearby, where a lady hosts a few students for meals daily. The students eat there in the form of paying guests, and it works out nicely. At around 6:30 or 7:00 PM my two meal buddies come over again to make dinner with me, we make dinner, eat it, and clean up by around 8:45 or 9:00. For the next hour or so I do my own work and then sleep. Usually I am completely exhausted by 10:00 PM, and since I have to start again at 3:00 AM, I try to make it a point to sleep by or before 10:00.

 

I have met some amazing people so far. This includes the headmaster, teachers, and fellow students of the Vidyapeeth, the Shankaracharya of Sringeri, and many random people. I will only write in detail about a few of them in this blog, but it can be safely understood that everyone I have met is absolutely amazing. Everyone here knows more than me about almost everything (except for English and computers, I suppose). I am not exaggerating. And I am not just talking about academics: I am talking about life. Most people here sing exceptionally well, so I have been picking up tips here and there from everyone, and I have noticed that my singing has improved since I came, more towards the Indian classical side (finally). Everyone I interact with knows more Sanskrit than me, so I feel like I am constantly in class. They are always teaching me new things, and since I am eager to learn, I find teachers everywhere. I am picking up bits of Kannada here and there too, since there are people in Menase who know no language other than Kannada. I am forced to learn some, and hopefully this will turn into a working knowledge of the language during the time I am here. My friends teach me life lessons just by their actions, but they are sure to teach me in words too if the situation ever arises. I never thought I would be doing Yoga but here I do Yoga daily at 4:30 AM. In general I feel like I have placed myself into an environment where everyone has different qualities that I would like to inculcate, and therefore it is my job while I’m here to pull myself up to their level. They are selflessly providing a helping hand as well, and I feel honored to be in the constant presence of such amazing individuals.

Menase and the Monsoon

Having been in Sringeri for about two weeks now, I have realized a few things. First of all, I’m not actually in Sringeri. Sringeri is the town nearby, about two or three kilometers from where I’m staying: in the guesthouse of the Rajiv Gandhi Campus of Rashtriya Sanskrit Sansthan (a.k.a. National Sanskrit University) in a village called Menase (pronounced MAY-na-say) just outside the town of Sringeri, in Karnataka, India. It’s like living in “Chicago” – we say that we live in Chicago, even though we’re from the suburbs. Although in my particular situation, I would say the distance is more like that from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade – I’m in a remote location, surrounded by fields, on a college campus, outside of a town that is accessible by foot where everyone goes once in a while to hang out. (As an aside, this place is EXACTLY like Hogwarts... I will write about that later.) It’s still far enough where one must make a special effort to go there though, even though it’s possible to go every day (there are people who live in the city itself and come to college every day from there – by foot, of course).

 

Menase is beautiful. I will be guilty of mentioning this several times, forgive me in advance. It is located in a valley (although not completely at the bottom, it’s sort of in mid-hill), therefore surrounded on all sides by hills, which make for excellent scenery as the backdrop for my studies (which have started, and which I will write about later).

 

It is presently the monsoon season, and in Sringeri this means a lot. My actual trip to Sringeri was delayed because of the rains in the first place, owing to the fact that there was nonstop rain for four or five days just before I was supposed to come (on the 15^th of July). I was unclear on what that meant, however, before I actually came here. I realized that just saying “rain” does not quite capture the essence of the monsoon. It is being unable to see because of how thick the sheets of rain are, being unable to walk because you cannot see the ground due to the depth of the water, it is the uselessness of an umbrella in the face of the power of the God of the Hydrosphere. It is the swelling of the river Tunga to the point where the water level is higher than the bridge that crosses it. My umbrella is already broken; I guess American umbrellas are not made for this kind of rain. I should be (have to be) getting a new one shortly, or I will be permanently soaked!

 

One cannot leave one’s residence without an umbrella, even if it’s not presently raining, because one second it could be sunny and nice out, and the next it could be pouring. Sometimes, it is sunny and rainy at the same time – this confuses me but also makes me very happy. The sun and rain work together in brilliant ways, especially when everything around you is green. It makes the greens greener, and there are so many shades of green that one cannot know the beauty of this sight until one has seen it for oneself. And every shade becomes more accented with the rain.

 

One thing about Sringeri is quite fascinating. Despite the constant downpour, work goes on. People put on a hood-like thing; it is like draping a sweatshirt behind you, wearing only the hood. This particular accessory is made of plastic or some woven material, and covers the head, shoulders, back, and waist. It resembles a [huge] plastic grocery bag, cut in half vertically, turned upside down, and draped over the body. People can be seen wearing these things and doing their work, which could be anything – fieldwork (sowing seeds or planting crops), electric work, construction, automotive, transportation, even just random walking. They are so used to the rain that it doesn’t affect them at all! This intrigues me. For the most part, when it is raining, people are more hesitant to step outside, more reluctant to do their work. I can attest to this; although I like playing in the rain, my mind does not stay focused on my work when it is raining (it is a totally different story in Sringeri, the rain makes me extra focused). Over here, rain or no rain, people are constantly doing what they need to do.

 

My classes are moving slowly so far, so I will write more about those as they pick up.

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.