Thursday,
February 9, 2006
Happy
Pongol!!
What a delight to see and what a
wonderful surprise. We are in the 3rd day of the Pongol
Festival… one of noise and gift giving… all in aide to keep Shiva awake during
the winter; and each other happy… “You don’t want to die during Pongol! It is dangerous.” Alamelu (our house cleaner) arrived at my door about 2:30pm with a drink and a plate of
goodies in her new! sari. “That” is what you give to females at
Pongol (and a dhoti with a shirt to the males), and that is what we had
done for Alamelu, so she was letting us see her pleasure. She was very
beautiful with flowers in her hair too! The drink was a thick milky
concoction of short ½ inch coconut noodles and cashews, flavoured with cardamom.
I, of course, (cookie monster that I am) thought the plate of goodies was
cookies with the ever traditional token banana. But no, not cookies, deep
fried fritters. So good! I must learn the ingredients!
So, I have been to the shops and
bought my first sari! Ranjit, my rickshaw driver, helped me.
Because it was Pongol and everyone! was buying saris, the counter was elbow/arm
deep in 6 meters lengths of sari. A 20 foot counter, 2 ft deep in saris….
every one of them different and still half the shelves behind the counter
full. I was at the 250-350 Rs counter ($6-9); I think counters range up
to 600 – 1000Rs. Ranjit, along with the clerk (all males), educated
me. Yes, I was at the right counter… for a ‘village’ woman; and then, was
she light or dark skinned? She is dark skinned. So! It shall be a light
coloured sari. I know I have seen her wear bright colours: hot
pink; raspberry red; bright purple; electric blue… but no… I must choose a
light colour. They were very determined. I veered toward the small
delicate flowered prints… “No. Those are old fashioned. Perhaps you
choose because you have seen that… but, not good anymore.” I am to choose
the larger sprays of flowers e.g., lilies… with some geometric design (rather
like some of the 70’s designs). The 2 men choose a light coral coloured
sari with dark coral lilies and some rust highlights with a bit of grey/lilac
in the geometric. I was given the cloth to feel… “Yes. Very light
and soft.” It is a synthetic, but it does feel soft and delicate.
350Rs. “Yes. Very good.” “Now the blouse.” says Ranjit…. as we
cross the store to another counter. “But I don’t know the size.” I say
helplessly. “Large or small?” he says. “OH! Very small.” I
say. “1/4 meter” he says. “50Rs” ($1.50) Really? Oh! As it
dawns on me it is to be made. “Yes, Yes… just 20Rs or so and the tailor
will make.” So again the men choose… rust. They consider 3 bolts of
cloth, slightly different in shade and the light one is chosen. Off we go
to the ‘bill counter’ for our slip; then off to the ‘cash counter’ to pay; then
to the ‘bag counter’ for pick up. I watch as my purchases are taken by
young boys (or thrown) from one counter to the next. How do! they know
who it belongs to? I am one of 20 or so standing around the cash
counter. But! they do.
So today… Alamelu had on a light
lilac coloured blouse (the rust is at the tailors)… it looked very
beautiful. I think her choice is right! She positively sparkled with the
light lilac next to her dark skin (the men were right too… the light is
very beautiful; she must wear 'bright' for ‘work’ days). She handed me my
cup and plate and wished me “Happy Pongol!” Then to my utter shock she
prostrated before me. On her knees, forehead to the floor and hands flat
before my feet. My heart is deeply touched. I Namaste and thank her
with sincerity. She beams with a big smile and strides away…. barefoot,
anklet tinkling and her long black braid with a length of jasmine garland
attached. How very beautiful.
On the Wednesday when Ranjit had
explained that I was to give the sari, “She will be VERY happy!" he
explained; he also explained that employers would be giving bonuses: 1 or
2 months wages as a bonus. I was also instructed that the giving was to
take place before 10am on the Friday. It is bad luck to give between 10am
and 2pm.
Ranjit has planned to take his
mother to her village and a visit to her temple 600 km away. He will be
away for 3 days. It is 7pm Thursday, and we have been shopping for 3
hours. I pay him for our shopping trip: 30Rs to pick me up; 30Rs to
go downtown; 30rs to return from town; 30 rs to take me home, then 50rs/hr for
his ‘staying’ with me as I shop… for him I pay more because of the amount of
help he offers. I pay up enumerating each task… then I hand him an
envelope with his name on it (his “Pongol” bonus) and wish him “Happy
Pongol!” as I have been taught: not casually, but with assertive genuineness
(as you would teach a child to answer a phone). He beams, then asks for
my blessing for his trip. “You put your hand on my head.” He says,
showing me… and say “Bless You.” So, I do. “Bless you, Ranjit.” Again,
I am deeply touch. Tears surface for me. A heartfelt moment.
On the Saturday, Chin Raj (the
gardener) brings a jar of ‘sweet rice’ to each of us. It is a special
Pongol dish. He is a widower with 2 sons and has made this
himself. We Namaste in gratitude. He is very proud of his offering,
beaming as he Namastes in return. Namaste, you will remember is a recognition
of ‘God’ in the other.
Yes, as I said in my last note, I
will be expected to give more; and give appropriately. Yet… there is such
a genuineness. I melt. This is a vibrant, warm hearted and gracious
culture. I feel honoured to be here. So what if they shoot
politicians. :-)
Love, Paula
February
21, 2006
High
Season:
In the 2 blocks opposite the Ramana
Maharshi Ashram, I have 4 encounters… mostly with people from Vancouver
Island. One wonders, “How can that be
so?” As it happens, there are 3 teachers
of the Ramana Maharshi lineage who visit Vancouver Island on a regular basis. Peculiar.
These 2 blocks are the heaviest
traffic blocks in the ashram nygard (neighborhood), so perhaps not surprising
that during the ‘High Season’ (which is late this year due to the rains, I think)
you meet everyone you know. I feel like
an ol’ time resident. I certainly never feel like that in Victoria, where I can
walk downtown and meet no one I know.
The main 2 blocks, on the south side
of the street, start with the ‘milking ‘corner’: there is Peter & Osha’s café/hotel; the
rickshaw stand; then the cows tied to the street posts, ready for the evening
milking; next is the large, 3 foot open sewer; then the street going south into
the nygard. Across the street are the
laundry; the tea and lime stand; and the Kali Temple (900AD… they did goat
sacrifices at this temple until the 1950’s… Kali is a very powerful female
god). That’s one very busy corner. Most vehicles using this ‘highway’ stop to
get a Kali blessing: limes squished under the tires and the priest anointing
the driver’s ‘third eye’ with red ochre.
Vehicles line up blocking 1 of the 2 lanes, to get their blessing.
The next very busy corner is 2-3
blocks further west, past the grocery store which is across from the ashram
gates, where another street travels south into the nygard to the Post Office
and more shops, including the internet shop I frequent. On the west side of this busy corner is
another small but very active shrine, a Ganesh Temple (the elephant God that is
the remover of obstacles, and one of the most popular kinds of temples in south
India). On the east side is a series of
small shops including another teashop, coconut stand, ice cream stand, Kashmiri
jeweler, and STD (telephone & email shop).
If you look carefully at the actual building that houses these shops,
you find it is an old temple or ashram, showing a very ornate roofline. I have never heard about its history, but it
was a lovely surprise when I noticed all the lintel carving one day… beauty,
hardly seen, through the midst of all the chaos! India!!
I had been to town and back. Tired, as usual, after a visit to town, I
stopped at the ‘Roof Top’ café (The
Canadians’ favorite place due to no mosquitos; also financed by a Canadian from
mid Vancouver Island J).
It is just a bit east of Osha’s Hotel, above a pharmacy stall. I refreshed with
black tea, then headed toward the Ashram to contact a meditation teacher from
North Saanich, who is staying at the Ashram. Just past the Kali Temple, I
bumped into Anne & Ron from Courtenay. We have now known each other for
about 3 weeks, due to our mutual friend in Courtenay, Heather. Well, they have
just locked themselves out of their rooms; the cell phone tower is not
transmitting; they cannot get hold of their manager; and they are on their way
to Shanti Internet to get Kumar’s advice on “What to do?” (Kumar is married to
a European, knows the ways of the village well, and speaks very good English.) We
laugh about the possibility of their joining the sadhu who sits in front of
their house each night. I wish them luck! ... and go on.
Just in front of the Ramana Market
(opposite the Ashram) I pause, considering the traffic, as I aim for the Ashram
gateway. Through all the honking of horns and roaring of engines, I think I
hear, “Paula!” Turning around, I find it is Satya on his motorcycle, the very
beautiful young man who was my driver from the airport in Chennai. It is nice
to see him again. We catch up, a bit. He tells me he is off to see Yukio Ramana
(the teacher who led the pilgrimage I took in year 2000), who arrived in Thiru
the end of last week, etc., etc. …. And off he roars on his motorcycle.
Retuning
to my task of crossing the street, I now do the ‘open all eyes and gather all
wits’ routine. It is so busy and chaotic! I watch for an opening… wondering
with mild irritation, “Are there any traffic lights in India? I haven’t seen
any… maybe Delhi??” (Actually, if it
were really busy, there would be traffic police guiding the traffic.) I am
always in awe of the transportation scene:
trucks travelling at 40-50 mile/hr through this busy section, given they
have the right-of-way as the biggest vehicles; buses… with people so crammed
they hang out the doors and windows and possibly on the roof; cars; motor
cycles & scooters, often with 4-6 people hanging on… or just perched!
Rickshaws (they too can be loaded… no laws re numbers); bicycles (3 people??);
ox carts. Everyone intensely
concentrating, joggling for a place on the road… or off! if necessary. Traffic
lanes are not a concept. They are weaving in and out and around each other,
horns blaring, to indicate position… except the ox cart, which just ambles
along. There is also a steady stream of
people going every which way… this includes the flower sellers and beggars on
both sides of the street waving their arms and calling to me, “Amma, Amma”, as
if I am their last hope… that also requires dodging. Finally, I get a calm
patch and skedaddle across… into the calm of the Ashram grounds… always a
relief.
Now,
it is shoes off at the gatehouse… barefoot, I cross the fine red dirt, neatly
swept courtyard, up the steps to the main temple. It is evening, just prior to
the evening puja and chants. Yes, the person I am looking for is there… on the
male side of the hall, sitting in meditation, back against the wall. I have a
nice little story to tell him. I know he will be glad to hear it. I make
contact quietly, and we leave the hall so we can speak. (The day before, he had
handed me a donation to give to Ganesan… donations are not usually accepted,
but this was anonymous... people in Canada… so, I felt it was ok to pass it on.)
I tell him that I had found out just that morning, that Ganesan had ‘wished’
for new copies of the chant: ‘1008 names of Ramana Maharshi’, that he needed
more copies for his attendees on Shivaratri Day at the end of the month. Sure enough, with this anonymous donation the
costs will be covered. It is a fun story! We both enjoyed the synchronicity. It
is so nice when ‘timing’ is on! We wished each other well; and I head back
across the courtyard; hand in my metal disc to retrieve my shoes; put them on;
cross the street again (another major adventure); and head for the Kashmiri
jewelers to pay my bill. Without any
concern on their part, I took home $300 Cdn. worth of jewelry the previous
night! (Time to consider what I want… A sucker’s deal! They know if you take
them out of the shop, you will buy.)
The
curtain on the shop’s door is pulled closed, and there are shoes outside… so! there
are customers are inside. I enquire of the brother who is sitting to one side
of the door, “Yes. Yes. Go in.” he says. In I go. Sure enough… customers… 2
young girls are sitting on the floor with jewelry displayed before them on a
cloth: sapphires, emeralds, rubies, topaz, pearls; encased in rings, bracelets,
necklaces… or just loose. It truly is a wonderful sight! (My favorite piece this year is a bracelet
with 6 half-inch Alexandria stones… from Russia.) They all turn slightly,
checking on the intruder… the 2 girls leap up, throwing their arms around me! and
shout my name… they are 2 girls from Victoria. (I had bumped into their mom the
previous day… in another Kashmiri shop!)
We all sit down jabbering about the jewels. More try-ons… I have him
show the girls the Alexandria bracelet… ooos… ahhhs. He offers to let them take their picks home
to show their mom. They are wise; they
tell him they will come back later. Soon they are off home for dinner… one hour
late. I sit, chit-chatting with the jeweler for a bit. He is in his mid 20’s
and he does not understand these young ‘free’ western girls. He will marry a
Kashmiri girl. Still… he thinks he would
like to come to Canada to make money. I
tell him that I want to go to Kashmir… it’s the pictures of those houseboats on
the large, misty lake that get to me! “Yes, it is ‘open’ now. “It is much safer”,
he says. “Just don’t go into the mountains.” He tells me that he saw a picture
of his family’s house in a magazine today!
A woman had showed him the “Lonely Planet” traveler’s guide… there was
his father’s house, at the start of the Kashmir section. What fun for him! (Is it true? Or is it a way
to impress me of his status?? Makes no difference. One takes nothing for
granted.) He is away in India over 6 months of every year.
In
two blocks I have had four encounters; I have a dinner engagement for Tuesday
and one for Friday; plus a wedding! coming up on the 24th. My retreat!! You’d think I lived here. The
other day, someone jokingly said that the ‘snowbirds’ are coming to India these
days… instead of to Florida or Arizona.
So it seems. Oh my ghod!! Chasing
gurus instead of golf balls! How
appalling.
The
weather has changed this week. Last week
it was just perfect: sunshine (34-36C);
a light fresh breeze; lush vegetation, birds galore, butterflies, monkeys, and
peacocks. It really is a paradise in the
winter. The evening walk is heavenly,
with the sweet scented air. Then this week!
We have jumped to 38C: the nights are
getting stifling hot; and the mornings are piping hot by 10am. We have started the heat season, when
everything sizzles. It will last until
July. Now, even the evenings are hot, so
no walks. It is the time of the year to
go slowwww… not just at high noon, but every hour. Only 3 more weeks in India… I am home on
March 9th. How quickly the
time has gone!
Love
to you all. Paula
Friday,
March 3, 2006
A
Goodbye Lunch with “KVS”
KVS (an old friend of Ganesan’s)
spoke to me earlier in the week, saying he wanted me to come for lunch or
dinner before I left. The decision was lunch, and I received a note to
meet him today for lunch at the Ashram.
The dining hall serves about 200
perhaps. People sit crossed legged, in rows, on the concrete floor. Each
place setting is designated by a banana leaf – your plate; 1 cup; no
utensils. Using the right hand only one gathers the food together with the
tips of the 5 fingers, then using the first 2 fingers and thumb food is
selected, and put into the mouth with the thumb pushing the food gently, deftly
off the 2 fingers hovering just at the lips. (Some dexterity is required.)
Since I simply cannot sit cross-legged,
I have never chosen to eat at the Ashram. (For those not staying there,
the procedure is simply to make a reservation 24 hrs. in advance.) So! My time
has come. As it happens, I discovered that at one end of the hall there
is a row of wooden benches with tables… for the handicapped and elderly (which
am I?? what a choice!). They seat about 24 people. KVS had been
advised of my predicament and it was arranged that we would sit the benches.
Perhaps I have mentioned KVS in
previous emails (I can’t remember)… he just arrived back in the Ashram in
December after a 14 yr. retreat in the foot of the Himalayas. KVS is loved
and respected in the Ashram. As we walked in front of the Main Hall many
gave Namaste and provided recognition. We stopped at one group of men
seated in front of the “Mother’s Hall (Ramana’s mother… a lovely story for
those interested.)… as we drew near they all stood, greeting KVS. One was
his brother (also in his late 70’s) and the others were friends of the brother…
all former or present university professors.
About a month ago, I gave KVS a
picture taken of him at our Christmas tea. A beautiful picture… he stands
in profile with hands clasped gently just above the waist and head bowed,
wearing the usual white shirt and white dhoti. In this celebrative
instance, he has a long colorful scarf/wrap draped on one shoulder. This
is his usual posture whether standing, walking, or talking with you. He presents
such! humility, always. Sandra (from Italy) who took the picture captured his
presence exactly. When KVS’s brother saw it, he asked to have a copy. KVS
sent along the request a couple of weeks ago. Today! I had the picture with
me. With KVS’s permission, I presented it to his brother. I did not
expect the response. Small (under 5ft??), he is a little grey haired
gnome… he grabbed my R (of course) hand and pressed it to the middle of his
forehead… the 3rd eye. He was ecstatic. As it happened, he had
first seen the picture standing in front of the Mother’s Hall/tomb… and here he
is in the same spot today, receiving it! He glowed at me, saying, “Mother has
provided! It is so marvelous how Mother provides. Such
goodness.” He hangs on to my hand bowing… I have been Mother’s vehicle.
He is truly awed by the synchronicity. Everyone begins to talk of ‘the
Mother’s’ generosity. Quietly, he also tells me… KVS has 4 other siblings… is
there any way I could get 4 more? He explains that the family has no
pictures of KVS and all are so excited to find that one has been taken. KVS
has made it known that he expects to ‘leave the body soon’; that he has come to
be absorbed into Arunachula (the mountain). The picture is truly
appreciated. Of course, I will get 4 more.
We have lunch. A glass of water
is provided… to splash the banana leaf, in readying for serving (I think
the water provides a slippery surface which helps when you gather up the food
with your fingers.) First a spoonful of thick, spiced vegetable
(potato/squash/green bean); then a somba… a soupy mixture of spiced veggies. Then
comes the rice. One begins. The dishes continue: another soupy
mixture of dahl; a sweet rice; a lightly curried sweet milk; a mango pickle
mixture (very hot); a yogurt drink. I notice KVS mixing the liquids in
with his rice… squeezing this wet mixture in his fist, softening it. He
makes it into pabulum. (I can only guess it is because of his stomach
problems.) The final offering is ‘prasad’ from the temple… a coconut and
berry mixture that has been prepared for the puja ceremony earlier in the day
at the tomb of Ramana Maharshi. KVS is very proud to tell me it is Ramana’s
‘prasad’. He is a loving devotee. This means we have received the
blessing of the Bhagavan. Slowly, I am learning. My R hand is
somewhat messy, but at least, it is not half way up my arm like the first
time. And! My glass is clean… I remembered to use my L hand. We
leave, washing our hands at the outside taps.
KVS walks me to the Ashram
gates. On the way, he tells me he has spent many years in Silence, that
Silence and Love are the same. He rambles on a bit about the “World” talking
too much; that if people just stopped and went into Silence, that the Love
would automatically increase. “Have they not yet learned that talking
solves nothing, for long. We are so slow to learn this.” He pauses. You
can see he feels this deeply. Then he adds, “There is Silence in many
places… he tells me about being in Rishikesh by the Himalayas and in many
Ashrams. He tells me that he spent time with Ghandi. “But here” he says,
“it is the deepest. Bhagavan’s Silence takes you the deepest.” “Come
here often, Poola,” he tells me. “Just sit by one of Bhagavan’s
pictures. Your Silence will deepen.” So, gently, I have been told… it is
time I spent more time in Silence… here in the Ashram. The purpose of the
lunch today was not social, not to say good-bye, it was to give me a personal
blessing. How did he know that I am struggling with the commitment to
Silence? Did he know? I am deeply touched by this ‘gift’ of the
Saint.
In the true paradoxical style of
India, the sublime was preceded by the ridiculous. The weather has shifted
now that it is March. We are 40C… and it has come on quickly. I sleep,
head by the window. Last night, I was woken by the sound of rain on the tin
overhang of my open screened window. Drowsily, I think “OH! Good! This
rain will break the heat.” I listen appreciatively. I realize “rain’ is
bouncing off only one overhang… there are 3 windows. “Strange,” I
think. There is no way the angles of the roof could make that happen… there
is no wind. Soon… very soon… the rain stops. Then the smell of the
air changes… from fresh to a musky pungent odor. Good grief! I realize it
has to be something peeing! … with that amount of pee… it must be a monkey…
peeing from on high!... the 12 foot coconut palm by my window… there must
be a monkey sleeping it! Could it really be? I did not get up to
look.
Last year, it was a series of creepy
crawlies that said good-bye: the gecko that fell from the ceiling,
landing on my leg as I was lying on the bed; the cockroach that fell from the
sleeve of my dress; the cobra on the path during our evening walk. All in
the week before I left. Surely a sign of the Unconscious on the rise! This
theme continued the first month of my stay this year. So, now what’s coming? I
have the blessings of a Saint; and a monkey peeing from on high! Was the
monkey blessing me too? :-) I can’t imagine the symbolism here. Is it my
conflicted commitment?? Whatever will next year bring?
Arrangements are made... trunks,
ticket, car. I am homeward in 2 days.
Love to
you all! Paula
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