As Fate Would Have It . . .
This will likely be my last post for the next four days as fate would have it. I awoke this morning with a slight cold and decided to sleep a little more after breakfast. But I was restless, couldn't really sleep, feeling like I was missing something.
My plan had always included Rishikesh, but not Haridwar, where I am staying. Through Roopa's encouragement and knowing that Sri Sri Shankar was going to be in Rishikesh, I decided to tour northern India before heading to the southern states, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. Arriving in Haridwar, I was unimpressed and not feeling the vibe. This is one of the significant holy places for Hindu's at the foot of the Himalayas just before the Ganges river flows to the flat plains down to Varanasi.
Each night at the main temple (Har Kri Pauri), a candlelight/flower bowl vigil is held at the main ghat on the river banks. Last evening I was both observer and participant. Before I could barely set foot on the temple I was ushered in by two plain clothes men who began instructing me on my next action. Wondering what their end game might be, I slowly complied with removing my shoes figuring it to be a common practice for many holy hot spots.
(Above: My "Priest")
Next, I purchased the conduit for releasing me of all my sins and the sins of my family and friends, a bowl of banana leaves containing an assortment of colored flowers and a candle in the middle. With this 20 rupee (40 cents) purchase, I was whisked down the steps of the ghat where my reluctant bare feet entered the Ganges. Reluctant because, holy or not, this is the river for dead people. Yes, in the Hindu religion, it is an auspicious place to both die and be cremated. Not a big fan of death in general, this was a one step at a time process for me.
The action really began to pick up as I was told to wash my hands in the water. Despite the fact my hands probably got dirtier by placing them in the water, I complied. But my compliant behavior was short lived as the next command was to drink three times from the river. Yeah, I don't think so.
Boundaries established, the "priest" was unphased by my refusal and continued on with his rehearsed chant which I had to repeat each word after him. He could have been telling me I was an idiot and I wouldn't have known, but hey, I thought if this was all I had to do to get rid of your sins and mine, I might as well do it. Call it the CYA of spirituality.
Chanting completed, the priest lit the candle and I bent down to set the flower bowl afloat on the river. It was a serene moment as the red, yellow and white flower bowl made it's way down the river with the green foothills of the Himalayas in the backdrop. I paid the 100 rupee "donation" and retrieved my shoes.
Ceremony after ceremony was performed as I sat on the ghat steps opposite the temple. There were hundreds of people, a few westerners and many Indians. Dusk set in and the candles sailed into the dark river below the ghat.
(At right: A couple at Har Kri Pauri send their flower bowl with well wishes down the Ganges)
Flash forward to today, Friday. Unmoved by Haridwar and slightly under the weather, I thought of maybe taking a day to rest, but that was not to be. With no destination in mind, I packed my day pack and caught an autorikshaw with seven locals for the 26 kilometer ride to Rishikesh.
The rikshaw stopped at one point in Rishikesh where everyone got out, including me, but the driver said "Laksham Jhula" which I remembered from my guide book was the suspension bridge over the Ganges in the central part of town. I got back on the rikshaw to ride it to the "end of the line".
Again with no destination in mind, I started walking, not really looking for anything, just hoping to get a sense of the town had appealed to me from the beginning of my plans to visit India. Walking on the suspension bridge over the river, the energy in the air was palpable. The mountains surrounding the town were much taller than the foothills around Haridwar.
Off the bridge, I turned right and began walking along the river's edge, glancing up occasionally to see what I was passing, but not really seeing (I realized later). It was as if someone had set me afoot on autopilot when I stopped and looked to my left to see a sign that read, "International Yoga Festival - March 1-7". Bam, that was it, providence strikes again! Instantly I knew that was what I was supposed to do.
Marching right into the ashram knowing that if they tried to turn me back I wouldn't go as I was already late. Checking in with myself before I signed up to tithe my house or first born, I surveyed the grounds carefully, not knowing if I was even permitted in the courtyard. I made my way to another gate in the Parmarth Niketan Ashram where the head guru is Swami Chidanand Saraswati. A guard stopped me and in broken English mentioned that I needed a "card". No problem, I can get one of those, and I did, about 2 hours later when the office opened.
In the office, I met Alka, an Indian doctor educated at UCSF, so we got to talking about the ashram and the yoga event. For some reason, knowing that she lived on 6th between Irving and Judah made me feel more at ease. She has been here nine months and is setting up a spiritual rotation for doctors from the U.S.. Stating that she would "trust me" (big mistake), she gave me an event badge so I could attend the rest of the day's program even though I didn't have enough cash on hand to pay the full $150 fee. Remind me I owe her $100 tomorrow please.
So there you have it. For the next four days, programs begin at 4:00 a.m. with Sadhana (pronounced "sodna" as I mashed all of the names today) and the days go until 9:00 p.m. each night so it's early to bed to catch the worms. Not sure why I would want to catch worms, unless I were a fisherman, or a bird, I am neither, so I'll opt for some wisdom of the saints.
(Above: The Swami, President of the Ashram, at an aarti ceremony on the banks of the Ganges)
The festival has teachers from all over the world, including two from California. All food is provided and most people are staying at the ashram, but they are out of rooms so I will commute from Haridwar for the next two days and then move to Rishikesh according to my room bookings. At the conclusion of this "festival" I promise to share any wisdom I glean. I've got a few photos and I'll be sure to post those too.
My plan had always included Rishikesh, but not Haridwar, where I am staying. Through Roopa's encouragement and knowing that Sri Sri Shankar was going to be in Rishikesh, I decided to tour northern India before heading to the southern states, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. Arriving in Haridwar, I was unimpressed and not feeling the vibe. This is one of the significant holy places for Hindu's at the foot of the Himalayas just before the Ganges river flows to the flat plains down to Varanasi.
Each night at the main temple (Har Kri Pauri), a candlelight/flower bowl vigil is held at the main ghat on the river banks. Last evening I was both observer and participant. Before I could barely set foot on the temple I was ushered in by two plain clothes men who began instructing me on my next action. Wondering what their end game might be, I slowly complied with removing my shoes figuring it to be a common practice for many holy hot spots.
(Above: My "Priest")
Next, I purchased the conduit for releasing me of all my sins and the sins of my family and friends, a bowl of banana leaves containing an assortment of colored flowers and a candle in the middle. With this 20 rupee (40 cents) purchase, I was whisked down the steps of the ghat where my reluctant bare feet entered the Ganges. Reluctant because, holy or not, this is the river for dead people. Yes, in the Hindu religion, it is an auspicious place to both die and be cremated. Not a big fan of death in general, this was a one step at a time process for me.
The action really began to pick up as I was told to wash my hands in the water. Despite the fact my hands probably got dirtier by placing them in the water, I complied. But my compliant behavior was short lived as the next command was to drink three times from the river. Yeah, I don't think so.
Boundaries established, the "priest" was unphased by my refusal and continued on with his rehearsed chant which I had to repeat each word after him. He could have been telling me I was an idiot and I wouldn't have known, but hey, I thought if this was all I had to do to get rid of your sins and mine, I might as well do it. Call it the CYA of spirituality.
Chanting completed, the priest lit the candle and I bent down to set the flower bowl afloat on the river. It was a serene moment as the red, yellow and white flower bowl made it's way down the river with the green foothills of the Himalayas in the backdrop. I paid the 100 rupee "donation" and retrieved my shoes.
Ceremony after ceremony was performed as I sat on the ghat steps opposite the temple. There were hundreds of people, a few westerners and many Indians. Dusk set in and the candles sailed into the dark river below the ghat.
(At right: A couple at Har Kri Pauri send their flower bowl with well wishes down the Ganges)
Flash forward to today, Friday. Unmoved by Haridwar and slightly under the weather, I thought of maybe taking a day to rest, but that was not to be. With no destination in mind, I packed my day pack and caught an autorikshaw with seven locals for the 26 kilometer ride to Rishikesh.
The rikshaw stopped at one point in Rishikesh where everyone got out, including me, but the driver said "Laksham Jhula" which I remembered from my guide book was the suspension bridge over the Ganges in the central part of town. I got back on the rikshaw to ride it to the "end of the line".
Again with no destination in mind, I started walking, not really looking for anything, just hoping to get a sense of the town had appealed to me from the beginning of my plans to visit India. Walking on the suspension bridge over the river, the energy in the air was palpable. The mountains surrounding the town were much taller than the foothills around Haridwar.
Off the bridge, I turned right and began walking along the river's edge, glancing up occasionally to see what I was passing, but not really seeing (I realized later). It was as if someone had set me afoot on autopilot when I stopped and looked to my left to see a sign that read, "International Yoga Festival - March 1-7". Bam, that was it, providence strikes again! Instantly I knew that was what I was supposed to do.
Marching right into the ashram knowing that if they tried to turn me back I wouldn't go as I was already late. Checking in with myself before I signed up to tithe my house or first born, I surveyed the grounds carefully, not knowing if I was even permitted in the courtyard. I made my way to another gate in the Parmarth Niketan Ashram where the head guru is Swami Chidanand Saraswati. A guard stopped me and in broken English mentioned that I needed a "card". No problem, I can get one of those, and I did, about 2 hours later when the office opened.
In the office, I met Alka, an Indian doctor educated at UCSF, so we got to talking about the ashram and the yoga event. For some reason, knowing that she lived on 6th between Irving and Judah made me feel more at ease. She has been here nine months and is setting up a spiritual rotation for doctors from the U.S.. Stating that she would "trust me" (big mistake), she gave me an event badge so I could attend the rest of the day's program even though I didn't have enough cash on hand to pay the full $150 fee. Remind me I owe her $100 tomorrow please.
So there you have it. For the next four days, programs begin at 4:00 a.m. with Sadhana (pronounced "sodna" as I mashed all of the names today) and the days go until 9:00 p.m. each night so it's early to bed to catch the worms. Not sure why I would want to catch worms, unless I were a fisherman, or a bird, I am neither, so I'll opt for some wisdom of the saints.
(Above: The Swami, President of the Ashram, at an aarti ceremony on the banks of the Ganges)
The festival has teachers from all over the world, including two from California. All food is provided and most people are staying at the ashram, but they are out of rooms so I will commute from Haridwar for the next two days and then move to Rishikesh according to my room bookings. At the conclusion of this "festival" I promise to share any wisdom I glean. I've got a few photos and I'll be sure to post those too.
posted by Global415 at 9:43 AM
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