Skip to main content

Himalayan Memoirs: WTF! (Gauri kund-Kedarnath)



I had already made this trek once and the experience from last time made me consciously savor every step along the way. It was somewhere during this day that I remembered that all the days of walking till now was towards this. The anticipation of meeting Kedar filled  me. It was not an anticipation filled with love alone. It was an anticipation filled with love, rage, joy, madness, gratitude, dance. There was a part of me wanting to die in gratitude there. Gratitude for so many things: the rain, Maamaji, the old sage who was walking beside me barefoot etc etc. I was also very angry with what was happening in my life. I was angry about all the drama, the betrayal, the lost paradise, friendships severed, the frickin’ uncertainty which loomed in front of my life. I wanted to say a word or two to Him about all this. So many things were played out in my mind as I was inching closer to Kedar. Till now, I had just walked sometimes even forgetting where I was walking towards. The wild can do that to you. It was only in Gaurikund that I realized I was a part of the world where people had things to do. I saw a couple snuggling together on their way down. I saw people wearing jeans and t-shirts whose otherwise sensible colors were blatantly garish seen against the backdrop of endless greenery of the past few days. I even sighted one techie wearing an ‘Oracle’ jersey. I realized that my trek would be over today. What next? The eternal question. What the f*** next?

I was thinking about what my opening salvo would be when I meet Kedar. But when I did come at last in front of Him, I just flopped to the ground and tasted the thick air all the while trying to come up with something to say, something to pray, something to ask.
Soon time to leave Kedar came. I left Kedar feeling elevated in spite of all the problems and confusions facing me when I go down the mountains. Felt elevated because in the midst of such physical and emotional vulnerability, there was a sense that they could not take away everything from me. They could not take away Shambho. Not yet…

Comments

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

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

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