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.