Skip to main content

Marina, Ernest Hemingway and Ivan Pavlov

Beach at Fecamp - Claude Monet


I should learn to remember that this is the moment. This is the time of our lives. That I am at the right time at the right place with the right Man. I remind myself that whatever I have is not forever. It’s so good that I am sure it’s not forever. I tell myself that I should never take this for granted. No matter what craziness happens at work. Sometimes the reminder comes by just looking at the Sadhanapada volunteer who has an urgency that can only come with a ticking clock. For them, the ticking clock is in the form of the end of the southern run of the sun or what is traditionally referred as “Dakshinayana”. That’s when the Sadhanapada volunteers go back to their software or investment banking careers after 6 months of volunteering in the Isha yoga center.

When moment-to-moment awareness of the preciousness of this moment is not tenable, any artificial device to remind oneself is fair play.

The time of the Sun’s southern run is a time of action. That’s what Sadhguru says. I tell myself this is the time for the Routine. This is the time of mind-numbing calculation and mental application. Ernest Hemingway, in his Parisian memoir “The moveable feast” talks about the joy of simply walking down the stairs of his Paris apartment after a productive day of writing and artistic accomplishment. For me, it is walking the 1.5 kms from the Kaivalya kutir office to my house in Shivapadam after a whirlwind of a day. Mentally exhausted by the never-ending application of myself but quietly joyful for a day well spent.

Nevertheless, there is always time for simply unplugging. To allow yourself the luxury to reminiscence, to look back and take stock. To allow yourself to be totally useless.
Chennai is perfect for being useless. Especially if I go back to my parent’s house where I grew up without Shringeri. Not having the burden of trying to act like a married man helps too. Chennai is also perfect for this because of its beaches. I feel there is no other place which allows you to see the bigger picture, at a larger expanse of life. There is no other place which reminds you that life itself is spectacle enough. There is no need for any other entertainment. Just watching life go by is a life well-lived.

I love walking the roads of Chennai and using its public transport. I especially love the feeling of the effortful walking along the Marina sands. As I walk past the kitschy shops of the Marina and its quintessential beach smell of fried fish and bajjis, just when I start hearing the sounds of the waves crashing, I suddenly get in touch with that sweet inner spot where breath awareness happens. This is almost as pavlovian as the breath awareness which comes whenever I hear “Yoga padi” soundtrack. (Former and current Isha Yoga teachers will understand this).

On one level, the volunteering that I do now is a far cry from the ego-crushing, mind-numbing work that I always used to associate with volunteering in Isha. As the stakes get higher, things get muddled up, things get less certain and alarmingly twisted…Sometimes I amaze at my own machiavellian machinations. However, there is also this liberating feeling despite all the frustration, conflict of styles and the heartbreaking price the work exacts. The feeling that this is the right place at the right time with the right Man. There is nowhere else I rather be.

And who knows how long this will last.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hotel California

I was dropping off S for one of her meetings. The conversation meandered into how some of our volunteer friends were talking about me leaving IYC. S was observing that we would have never got married if I was not a Isha teacher at that time. She also observed how my deciding to move to Blore was kind of thrust upon her. It was a fair observation yet painful for me to hear it. At some point, I felt the need to justify/explain/clarify that i am a seeker. Still a seeker. After I said it, I felt a moment of pause within me. Am I a seeker? I felt embarrassed that I have to claim me being a seeker in so many words. Am I really a seeker? What does being a seeker mean? Does it mean that I should be living in an ashram? Does it mean that I need to work 100% and more towards a larger-than-life goal? Does it mean that I am checking out of "Hotel California" ? i.e. I am done with the world and ready for something else? Does it mean to live a constant affirmation that I may not know every
4 comments
Read more

The Atlas of My heart - Belonging

Last weekend, I drove 800 Kms for nothing. This is hard to explain to myself. It is harder still to write about it. It's been a week since September 23rd. That time of the year in the Isha Calendar when a kind of gathering happens around the Master. It is called Lap of the Master. I wanted to participate in it. At least I thought as much. So somewhat mechanically I made plans to reach in time and participate. However on the morning of the event, I found myself waking up in my ashram cottage and unable to find a reason to go to the event. I really don't know what was behind this sudden onset of Tamas . Almost as if to justify my unwillingness to get up, my mind is trying say that it is because of the crowd etc. But for whatever reason, I felt like not going to the event. I rather be curled up in my bed and read what I was reading. Over the next few hours, I felt a gnawing sense of disconnect and disconcert. This lead me to search for a word of what I was going through. I think t
Post a Comment
Read more

Himalayan Memoirs: Anbe Sivam

Prelude:  The following was written almost 5 months into my self-imposed exile. It was written while I was staying in an ashram in a small village called Ganeshpur somewhere in the upper reaches of Tehri Garhwal . I spent my time working in the kitchen as a self-appointed cook. ------------------------------------------------------------------ It was a rare moment. Rare indeed is a moment when you clearly realize that you have lost it. It was almost 5 months since I have been off the grid. The first 4 months were really good. I had fun. I had very little money and hence for the first time in my life, I am constantly thinking about money and rationing it. But I liked it as a novelty. Physically also, it was very difficult but I liked to push myself more and more. But most importantly, my sadhana was really good. I meditated like never before. But a variety of circumstances made me impatient and eventually pissed me off. I was no longer fine with just living not knowing wh
4 comments
Read more