The Cost of a Blessing

Last night I had a shock. Usually the way for me to proceed is clear and I proceed quite well from one point to the next. I came back to my room after dinner, booked a hotel room for two nights in south Delhi and then phoned the people whom I was to meet there, for confirmation of our meeting. They had told me that they would be leaving on the 23rd and if we were to meet it would have to be before then. No problem. I had planned it out well, 1. Spend one day in Haridwar on the 20th, 2. Hire a car to take me to the hotel in Delhi on the 22nd which was near the area where they live, 3. Have a meeting with them and then 4. Leave for Assam on the 24th. What could be easier???? But if you've been following these blogs, you already are knowing that it has all the earmarks of an adventure.

Sure enough, after the hotel bookings, a phone call to the people whom I was to meet, yielded up an awareness that they were not going to be able to to be available for any meeting because they were getting ready for their trip...Okay........I phoned the hotel, but no, they would not give a refund for the 22nd...Sorry. So, there I was with everything in place and no where to go...I couldn't help but see God's hand in this.

So, I yielded to the idea that I had lost the cost of a hotel in Delhi for one night, changed the date with the driver for the next day, extended my room for one more night in Haridwar and settled into myself and watched and listened with delight for the real reason of this extra day in Haridwar to be revealed.

I spent the day on the banks of the Ganga; watching an array of Saddhus smoking chillums and strolling along the ghats. Some were taking naps while others were either eating or chatting.

As the day was beginning to come to an end and moving along quickly now I realized that I really wanted to return to Anandamai Ma's ashram for the puja at 6:45. The driver did not arrive and so I jumped in a rickshaw, so late that I was almost certain that I would miss it, but in fact only 5 minutes had gone by of the grand puja and I was there for 'almost' every delicious moment. On my way into the ashram grounds I had noticed a small group of foreigners huddled around a Saddhu who was wrapped in orange. He was slumped in the plastic chair and seemed to be having trouble raising his head to the left side. All the foreigners were glued to his every syllable and the 15 or so of them seemed to be very familiar with him. You can always tell by people's bodies, whether they are connected to each other, and some of these people had been together for a very long time.

I hurried by them, making note of the group and then walked into the blissful handful of equally entranced pilgrims who you could see LOVED Ananadamai Ma.

Finally the puja was over and after lingering to get some prasad, I walked outside. The group of foreigners was still there on a small spot on the steps in the courtyard. I paused; listening for the telltale signs of TRUTH, and it was truthfully still and real. What a delightful change from the banks of the Ganga. I moved away, finally and went to look for the driver, who surely must be there by now...; he was still no where to be found, so I returned, put my shoes neatly back into the shoe stall and joined the small group who were glued to the Saddhu. When it came time for him to be carried in his chair back to his room I seized the moment and bowed at his feet; touching my head gently to his feet. He put his two hands right on the top of my head three times. He asked me where I lived and had I seen the Kumba Mela?, because this year was Maha Kumba Mela (meaning every 12 years). He knew my name before I told him what it was...........I asked him his name; it is Swami Vijayananda, and as it turns out, he was a disciple of Ananadamai Ma's. I watched him being carried off and the French-speaking group disperse quietly and thoughtfully. Now I knew this was what I had been meant to do; exactly this. And, as if by magic, the driver appeared and off we went, back to the Ginger Hotel.

When I came back to my room I looked up Swami Vijayananda on the web and there he was. He lives at Anandamai Ma's ashram and is a revered teacher. Some of the foreigners there (who were mostly French) told me that he is French...

So I figure the cost of having these loving and powerful blessings (that are still radiating in my head from his blessed touch), was 7000 rupees. Cheap at the price. How nicely this was so lovingly orchestrated...JAI MA!

(these two photos are night shots of buildings at the ashram; the one with the OM sign is the bookstore and the other is the entrance to the temple where Anandamai Ma's body is buried, just below her marble statue. You can double click on them and they will enlarge if you want to see them closer)

Kumba Mela in Haridwar

Yesterday morning I woke up with this strong desire to go to Haridwar. Back to Anandamai's Ma's ashram and then the puja (if there was time). It worked perfectly. The driver who had brought me from Rishikesh first took me to the ashram to meditate, in the sacred place where Anandamai Ma was buried. Later we rushed to the banks of the Ganga where i crawled through fences, walked down long walkways and then through security, where I had my purse checked for cameras, guns and whatever else they were looking for. I passed the inspection and was allowed to pass (my camera was in the side pocket of my purse where they had not looked).

I joined the throngs, which were not anything like I had imagined. I had imagined millions of wild Saddhus and millions of pressing, crowding pilgrims and not a single glimpse of the Ganges, but I was deliciously wrong. Across the bank the crowds were huge and 100 or so deep, but here on this side the crowd was only about 30 deep...about 15 lines of people sitting down on the ground and about 15 who were standing. I was moved by how kind the people were to me. Some young men who had noticed that I wanted to take photos, opened a space for me in the crowd that was standing and got me to the front. The puja (aarti) began slowly and eventually became a blaze of lights. All circulating in a clockwise manner, people had varying sizes of lamps; some a single candle, others tiers of flaming ghee lamps. At one point a lovely couple, with love in their eyes and soft voices, came up on my right. The man, so nicely said (I've noticed how they make note of when someone speaks 'nicely' so I will do the same here) "Do you mind if my wife gets up to the front? She has a problem with height and she is a good bhakta" How could I not make room for her? (she was about 4 and 1/2 feet tall). I put my right arm around her, brought her in close to me and took the rest of the photos blind...why not? (sometimes the best photos come to you when you have not controlled them)

The pilgrims (and I) chanted a beautiful and moving chant as the appreciation for the Mother Ganga swelled in our hearts. You could see it in their eyes (and mine). I gave thanks that I was there, being able to celebrate and honor this most sacred river 'Ganga Mayima" with them. What an incredible blessing.

The Ganga has become as precious to me as Ganesha and Anandamayai Ma's ashram.

Luxaman Jhula Soldiers

As I went to the Mother Ganga this afternoon to submerge the last shawl in the Ganges, I noticed that soldiers with guns were at both ends of the bridge. When I returned to cross back over the bridge around 4:30, there were about 50 soldiers. They were in blue uniforms, had helmets, face plates, sticks and guns. They were positioned on the rooftops overlooking the bridge and the German Bakery, which was the target of terrorists in Pune.
Life goes on with a bit more awareness. It would take a lot more than this to disturb the peace that the Mother Ganga brings to my heart. Here she is in all of her radiant beauty.
I leave for Delhi tomorrow; the shawls have all been dipped and my goal has been achieved.

On the Way to Rishikesh

Just before the turnoff to Haridwar our car was stopped, along with all the others, and we had to present our passports to soldiers with guns. The car was searched for guns and bombs. The driver told me that two bombs had been found in Haridwar the month before; one at the foot of the large Shiva temple and the other at the train station. These terrorists are serious but I am keeping my wits about me. However I am sticking to my program and will stay in places where I feel are safe.

At one point in the journey there was an accident on the road and cars were detoured. To my absolute delight we went through a small village and I got to shoot many photos out the window of the car. Here are a few.

I am in Rishikesh now and feel safe. And, yes, I will avoid the German Bakery...
The wind is howling outside and it is good to be in the Himalayas again. my second home....

The Porch Had a Guest

Dori

...I don't know how to tell you about Dori. She lives upstairs from me at the hostel. She has a long history of mental imbalance and has spent a great deal of time on my porch. She gave me permission to photograph her and use the photos in any way I would like to. I am thinking I would like to do an exhibition of some of the photos I have taken of her (and India). Her red hair in the sunlight that day, was breathtaking. If you double click on her image you will see colors that are a little more true to what I saw.
I think her face is one of the most beautiful examples of a person with no masks that I know of. Her pain, exquisite. I love and admire her honesty.
I am grateful to Dori, who has the courage to express what many of us feel but hide...

A plant in the medicinal garden at the University

This plant caught my eye.

Swami Vishwananda in his winter duds and his niece, Bapu

These photos of Swami Vishwananda and his niece were taken at Christmas when I went to Bangalore to visit them. Swamiji was all dressed up in his warm clothes so that he could walk me to my hotel which was two blocks away from where they lived. They took such good care of me while I was there. They are both a delight and such a pleasure to have a visit with.

Study in black and white

I shot this from a moving rickshaw as an experiment, when I was exploring what my new camera could do. It turned out to be a grand accident.

Patient waiting for an appointment at the hospital

This man and his friend were sitting in the sun on the steps of the Government Hospital waiting for the doors to open.

Woman sitting in the back of a rickshaw

Here are two of my favorite photos from my time in India. Although I still have almost a month left, right now it is easy to download these so that I can share them with you all. This woman who was sitting in the back of the rickshaw captured my attention.

New Friends in Jamnagar

For some reason the Vania's wanted their own blog page (see next story), so here they are in living color, in their home that is across the street from the King's Palace in Jamnagar. A sweet couple. Often P.C. Vania would come to fetch me for dinner or tea on his Honda Hero motorcycle. What fun! One day it was me, a large plant and him on his motorcycle. Me, balancing the plant and myself so that I would not knock him off balance.
Their grandson is a cricket player and is often going out for cricket practice when I arrive. He smiles easily, loves to watch TV and occasionally tries out English words on me to see if he has gotten them right.
They are good, new friends and I'm glad to know them.

Getting ready to move on

I am getting ready to leave this room, that for four months I have called 'home'. Here is a picture of the transformed porch that now, daily, is used to dry all my clothes, curtains and sheets for storage and the trip.

All of my beloved plants are now living at P.C. Vania's home. My favorite tree (which had just started to bloom again) left yesterday and the family has promised to look after it with loving care. Here is their photo with their grandson. This family adopted me while I was here, inviting me for dinners made from mutton (the only meat I've had in all the months I've been here). They did their best to get me to rent one of the two small apartments that was on the ground floor of the house they own, but I opted for hostel life and disgusting accommodations instead. The thing that kept me/us all going was Saraswati, who rose above it all; and the image of the lotus with its feet in the mud; blooming its exquisite and elegant bloom. Often it was kept me going; that and the porch.

Now the cool wind from the north dries the curtains that were made from a local Jamnagar sari. We (I call myself a local now) know that it is snowing in the Himalayas when a cold breeze blows in Jamnagar. It's snowing in the Himalayas....

Vrikshayurveda in Assam

I am the last one in the hostel; the last one of the students from the three month program, that is. All the undergraduates and post graduate students are busily locking themselves in their rooms to get ready for their exams in April. Occasionally they poke their heads out and make strange guttural sounds, like hobbits that are being tortured. Their faces are pinched and their eyes have a vague, vacant, far away look in them. They quickly scurry back into their rooms, as if even looking at or speaking about anything other than what is on the printed page, will seduce them and they will be lost forever in another reality and they will surely fail their exams, never finding their way back to Ayurveda. (I understand the feeling very well) They have tiffins delivered every day, small, stacked containers filled with hot food; usually dal, chappatis, a small 1/2 cup of veggies and some rice. They don't have time to cook, they tell me through small cracks in their doors. We smile, a knowing smile, I do my best not to engage them and we both get back to what we were doing. It's hard to not engage them because some of us have become very good friends and I feel that I have yet, one more family in my life. Some of them are SO very dear to me.
On the 15th of February I will leave Jamnagar for Delhi and make connections to go to Haridwar and visit the Kumbha Mela. (http://www.kumbhamela.net/kumbh-mela-haridwar.html). I will stay in Rishikesh with my young friend, Amit. I met Amit in Rajasthan a few years ago and have not had a visit with him since coming to India. He has a steady job now so can only stay away from work for a short while; but just long enough for me to take pictures of this amazing event with my camera that has a new 4 gig memory card. Plus I have five new jute, lemon yellow shawls from Bhagulphur which I will dip into the Ganges for good blessings. I will also be taking them to Anandamai Ma's ashram in Haridwar for more blessings...Blessings will be abundant. There will probably be over a million people there in Haridwar, so it should be an interesting experience. Daunting, but a great adventure. I'm so glad to have Amit accompanying me. I will leave my large red suitcase in Delhi, but the magic carpet comes with me, as well as my small Ganesha who lives in my change purse while I am traveling. I have plane reservations for the 24th of February to travel to Assam where I will then visit Binod Saharia and The Abaliorganictea Estate (www.abaliorganictea.com) and view the estate where Swami Valmiki has been experimenting with Vrikshayurveda (an ancient organic farming method that has come from the Vedic Scriptures that I am very interested in).
This has all the earmarks of an excellent time. I have learned that Binod's farm is one of the many farms that sells organic tea in the Comox Valley. And if that isn't enough, I even happen to know the person who will be there at the same time. It is SUCH a small world.
(Binod has given me permission to publish these photos from his website)
I have plane reservations to return to Delhi from Assam on March 3rd and from there will go south to Kerala and look for the place that uses Ayurveda to treat elephants. I will document this if I can find it. More about my projects in another story, otherwise I'll just ramble on and on.