Yogzilla

I heard there is an International Yoga festival in Puducherry, every year in January from 4th to 7th. I liked the promotional video for 2008. Check it out, it is really cool.

I have been practicing chandra namaskar the last two days. Why? It’s in the air, India is over the moon! This is the result of 9 years of tapasya.

Chandra namaskars are a great way to start a practice. It is deep, slow and very prayer like. Unlike the surya namskars, this feels very feminine and restorative. Everything about it is mild, chaturanga is done with the knees on the floor, the cobra is so small it is called a baby cobra. Try practicing this a half dozen times before you continue with the slow lunar practice. Start by taking the right leg back. Do the entire sequence and then try with the left leg.

My yoga practice has completely been transformed to just home practice. I do not have access to cool yoga classes like I had in SF. So, it’s just me and my mat. All the inspiration has to come from within. So far, not so bad.

Every time I roll out my mat, I notice there is no power(electricity). Bangalore is pro conservation, by force. There is no power for a minimum of 5 hours a day. When I practice in the evenings, I would have just started with the first tadasana pose and there is a power cut. In India, darkness sets in just as the sun goes down. There is not much light left for long after the sun set.

Nowadays, I know better and I keep a few oil lamps ready, anticipating the cuts. To my surprise, I find that practicing with the lamps is so much more interesting. I tend to hold the poses longer and there is no hurry to go the next asana, no hurry to go anywhere. If I look around, there are some cool shadows. I like the shadow of virabhadrasana, warrior pose a lot. Sirsana the headstand is pretty cool with the lamps on the floor. Of course, there are a few mosquitoes around. But, they don’t bother me too much.

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I picked up this book written by Paul Brunton at Sri Ramanashram, Tiruvannamalai. It is one of the best yoga related books that I have ever read. It is about PB’s search in India to find the great men in India who have figured the mysteries of life a.k.a yogis or seers or rishees.

The year is 1931, pre independence India. PB being a journalist makes for a wonderful travel writer. The search is on for a few good men. It is definitely not easy as he keeps coming across well intentioned fools, scriptural slaves, jugglers with a few tricks and outright frauds. He travels across many parts of India, talking to so many people. Of course, he needs interpreters as he is an English man. He makes friends with people who help him out most of the time.

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Wanting to reform the world without discovering one’s true self
is like trying to cover the world with leather to avoid the pain
of walking on stones and thorns. It is much simpler to wear shoes.

“Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet…”

- Rudyard Kipling, “The Ballad of East and West”

It is taken almost as a self-evident truth in contemporary Western public discourse to talk about the Western way as embodying the values of rationality, truth, and of course, democracy. This is then held in juxtaposition against the Eastern way, which conveniently comprises everything that the West is not – intuitive, spiritual, and irrational. Even ardent admirers of the East – philosophers like Thoreau or scientists like Jung, have subscribed to this view, even if their position was one of admiration.

One manifestation of this supposed stranglehold of the East on philosophical pursuits is the periodic flowering of Godmen, much like mushrooms in mold. If there is one industry that has survived the vagaries of economics, it is this. It is always on an upswing, and there is never a shortage in demand for the next shaman from the East. India in particular has catered admirably to this demand, from genuine philosophers like Tagore to flamboyant glamor-gurus like Rajneesh or Mahesh Yogi to unapologetic charlatans like Deepak Chopra or Bikram (of hot Yoga fame). Yoga in particular presents an interesting sub-culture within Western society, and some of the same attitudes may be glimpsed among Yogis, though in this case usually couched in uncritical admiration. For example, a Yogi in San Francisco would consider his education incomplete, unless he has made at least one trip to India – the purpose of which is unclear. Perhaps to breathe the enlightenment-laden air. I was once asked, without a trace of irony, whether my soul took flight like a dove when I stepped on Indian soil. My bemused response was that I was too busy with my feet stuck in the dirt to notice.

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Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu, South India. This town is so hot, even in November. But, then you forget how hot it is once you get in the ashram. This is the place where Ramana Maharishi lived for 54 years, mostly in silence. He taught in silence too, for most part.

I hear chanting, smell of the fragrant powder on coal. Smells divine. This is a small temple and this leads to the place where Maharishi(Great Sage or Seer) is buried. There is a sculpture of Maharishi, his posture is not the ideal padmasana pose, his back is slightly bent.This place is quiet and I see a few people meditating. It is so peaceful here, I decide to sit here for a few minutes.

Then I go further into the ashram and enter the meditation hall. This room is not that big and it has a huge photo of Maharishi. There are a lot of meditation cushions placed next to the wall. I usually find meditating a little weird and alien. I have tried to make it a habit to meditate at the end of the asana practice just after pranayama. Home practice is never complete without some quiet time for meditation. I know this as I have been taught to do this. I still find it strange to meditate. Sitting quiet and meditating comes easy and natural in this place. Slowing down, taking long breaths is something that is in the air here. I come out of the meditation room and I find two beautiful peacocks on the compound wall next to a tree. What a reward for slowing down.

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When I heard about Yogyakarta the first time, I was sure it had something to do with Yoga. Then I looked into how the city was named. Yoga and Yogya are not related in any way and people say Jogja. Yogya is a variation of the word Ayodhya, Rama’s very own town. Ramayana is really huge in Indonesia.

However I did get my yoga fix in Borobudur, a few kilometers from Yogya. The temple made of black volcanic rocks is beyond words. It was like time had stopped. Instantly peaceful. A refreshing cold drink for the soul. I could not remember anything else and it was as if I had gone back in time. Like everything happening around me is in slow motion and I can remember every frame of it.

The mandala design of the temple with many levels makes way for an amazing walking meditation. The story of Borobudur depicts a pilgrim’s search for spiritual awakening. Each of the levels depict the process of the pilgrim attaining wisdom and a higher level of understanding through various stories depicting the life of Buddha.

The walk starts from the lower kama dhatu level or the world of desires to the nirvana level is all of five kilometers. That gives me enough time to ponder over the dramas of the life in the lower levels depicted in rupa dhatu or the world of forms. The sculptures are intricate. I noticed there were a lot of wasps buzzing around in some corners. As you go higher, the story depicted in the sculptures gets simpler and leads to arupa dhatu, world of no form. The drama is reduced and there is beauty in simplicity too. It gets more open and there are stupas with Buddha inside. I saw a lot of beautiful butterflies in the higher levels. These levels depict nirvana with just stupas. It is so peaceful up here even though there are quite of few people around.

I am happy that this mandala was intended as a permanent one unlike Tibetan Buddhist impermanent mandalas which serve a slightly different purpose. Borobudur was built in 9th century and there are plans to keep it going for another 1000 years. Borobudur is the largest Buddhist monument and represents the symbol of life journey.