One of Prashant’s raps today was “the breath for the body, the breath for the mind, the breath for the breath, the body for the breath.” It felt more like a riddle today, an infinity loop doubling back on itself.
His message has been consistent in encouraging us to not do the perfect pose but to learn from the poses we have worked so hard to perfect. We have practiced long enough and should reap the benefits of our labor. Beginners “Learn to Do” and advanced practitioners “Do to Learn”. So, once the pose is learned, do the pose and use it as a facility to learn about the body, mind, breath, and self.
Frequently he will say “Come out. Sit. Listen.” And we sit wherever we are to the message. One of his analogies today was a party analogy. Say I invite you over for a party. I have worked to make delicious and beautiful food. Once you arrive I uncover it and show it to you, then ask you to leave without tasting it. That’s what it is like once a practioner knows the poses yet does not take advantage of the knowledge they can share. Eat the food. Take advantage of your work. Get the spoils. Do to learn.
Here is the sequence as I remember it:
Full Arm Balance or Adho Mukha Svanasana
In groups either rope Adho Mukha Svanasana, rope bhujangasana, or leg lifts. Switch, repeat until everyone had a chance at the rope wall.
Bharadvajasana
Sirsasana
Rotate between standing back arch, ustrasana, rope around waist facing the wall (sort of rope purvottasana),and Dwi pada virpariti on a chair. There was also an urdhva danurasana in the mix too.
Across “the busy street” is the School of Agriculture. Once through the gates it is almost immediately quiet. The tree lined road is cool and shady and just after the entrance there is a sweet smell of something blooming I cannot place. The song of the birds can be heard. The air seems fresher.
It is common to see people walking for fitness here along with others who are taking a short cut across campus. Four roads lead to the center where there is a statue of someone. Three of those roads are tree lined and have buildings; dorms, alumni association, library, and other housing and academic buildings. The fourth road leads out to fields and green houses filled with crops and flowers.
It’s a nice reprieve from the traffic noise, pollution and chaos. I have walked here several days and though it takes me just under an hour to walk three (sometimes four) of the roads, I get hot, sweaty and tired, mostly from the humidity.
Almost everything in India seems like it needs a good scrubbing with water and bleach as well as a strong campaign for picking up garbage (or just an “end littering” policy). The School of Agriculture isn’t much different and it struck me today how different it is from the other college campuses I am familiar with.
Four of us, Maggie, Lally, Lorene and I, went to Laxmi Road today, a renowned shopping area in the center of Pune. A short 50 rupee auto rickshaw ride delivered us into a mass of humanity and shops.
It was crowded, not a Western face in the mix, in the street and in the shops. We ducked into one of the pedestrian only streets, which at least eliminated the rickshaw, bus and motorcycle traffic. There are tiny shops, their goods spilling out the door onto carts and displays. There are kitchen goods, flowers, saris, bindis, shoes, scarves, purses, jewelry, clothes, underwear, make-up and more for sale.
One website reports that Laxmi Road is four kilometers long. Although it felt like we walked that far, I’m sure we saw only a fraction of the area. It is an easy place to get lost in. Luckily once out to a busy street there are plenty of rickshaws to whisk us back over to our home base.
Since about Tuesday people have been wishing each other Happy Diwali. For a week or more the shops have been selling lights and candles. There has been a festive mood in the air. And every night fireworks have been going off in the neighborhood.
Diwali is India’s Festival of Lights, a time when people come together to celebrate good conquering evil and light conquering dark. It is a celebration of new beginnings which coincides with the beginning of the Hindu new year. It’s the biggest event on the Hindu calendar and has been described as “their Christmas”.
The exact dates of Diwali change each year and takes place over five days. It’s usually sometime between mid-October and mid-November, the exact dates based on the Hindu lunar calendar.
In addition to fireworks, candles and lights, there are Rangoon artworks on floors. We saw these on the floor of the hotel in Aurangabad, on the ground in front of the restaurant, Indiana, where we ate twice in Aurangabad, and when we returned to the apartment there were two Oms on the threshold. They are made with colored rice, sand, flour and petals. And everywhere there are marigolds. They adorn cars, motorcycles, doorways and are for sale in big heaps on the side of the road.
As our tour manager said many time during the first part of our trip, India is a country of myths and legends. Different parts of India celebrate different legends during Diwali. In the north the festival celebrates the return of Rama and his wife Sita from their 14 year exile. Elsewhere many link Parvati, the goddess of love and devotion to Diwali. For others, the Festival honors the goddess of wealth, Lakshmi, allowing the lamps to help her find her way to homes and businesses so she can bring them wealth on this holiday that coincides with the start of the business year. And everywhere it includes lighting fireworks!
Carved out of the vertical face of the Charanandri Hills between the sixth and tenth centuries these “caves” are awe inspiring and magnificent. Some are in complete and others are filled with carving, benches, and temples.
There are thirty-four caves in all; 12 Buddhist, 17 Hindu, and five Jain. Each is numbered, some have a short explanation, and all of them carved out of rock, most, as I understand it, from the top down. The oldest caves are the Buddhist ones, carved from 500 to 750. The Hindu caves were carved from 600 to 870 and the Jain from 800 to 1,000.
The most impressive was number 16. It is a magnificent temple carved from solid rock. The sacred destinations website reports that 250,000 tons of rock was removed and it took 100 years to carve. It is twice the size of the Parthenon in Athens.
We hired Ali, an entrepreneur in the area, to drive us from our hotel in Aurangabad to the caves. He handed us over to Onis, a lovely gentle helpful man who helped guide us. We made it through ten or twelve and started to tire. We relied on our guide to help skip some and to focus on the most important. We skipped about ten of the Hindu caves and walked a kilometer or so to the Jain caves. It was warm, but not as humid today, but the heat and climbing up and down the stairs wore me out.
I thought I would write some of my general impressions of India through the lens of the senses. There are so many differences between this country and mine. I think what I see shows me some of the major differences.
There are people everywhere. India is the seventh largest country by area, second most populous county and the most populous democracy in the world. The population is over 1.3 billion. People walking, biking, riding what they call two wheelers (scooters or motorcycles), pushing carts, or just sitting around.
The women in particular are beautifully dressed. The dresses and saris they wear are bold and loud with all sorts of color combinations that burst right off the fabric. Most men are dressed in Western clothes, but some, like some of the rickshaw drivers, wear all white. Some wear a white hat that looks like something the deli counter workers at home might wear.
The rickshaws in the north were green, but here in Pune they are black and yellow, like little bumble bees buzzing from one part of the city to the next.
There is garbage everywhere. Squalor down every tiny street. Posh homes behind nice walls. And temples, large and small, on every street, corner, and, in fact, in every Hindu home. When we stop to look in we find them spotless, usually unoccupied, save for the statue of whichever god the temple is dedicated to. Many of the statutes are almost cartoonish in nature, brightly painted, plump and well lit.
As we walk to the store we often go single file, since there are trees growing in the middle of the sidewalk (there is some law about not cutting down trees) or the sidewalk is narrow, uneven, or non-existent. Lots of times we walk with eyes to the ground because of these obstacles. We pass fruit and veggie carts along the street and buy bananas, papaya, carrots, potatos, and eggplant, to name a few. There are strange and unknown veggies and fruits I have never seen elsewhere.
Sometimes the vendors will meet my gaze. Other times not. I don’t know if it is their way of being polite, if it is a language barrier, the fact I am a foreigner or that I am white. Other times, while walking, we are stared at. We are in the minority and they are perhaps curious and look. I have never felt unsafe here. I ignore the guidebook’s advice to avoid eye contact with the men (wear sunglasses!) and meet their gaze, keep walking and go about my business. The women look also and I smile. They almost always smile back.
I thought I would write some of my general impressions of India through the lens of the senses. There are so many differences between this country and mine. Here are some of the things I have felt.
First, the heat. I know I am not very heat tolerant so I knew being in India where the low might get to 70 degrees F would be a challenge. There have been times I have been just dripping in sweat (which I am not a fan of) and other times so warm I just have had to sit. I’ve taken good care of myself during those times; listening to my body, hydrating like crazy, resting when necessary. It’s been good practice for many things besides self care. The whole trip has. But, I will save that for later.
Some ways I have gotten cool is to swim in the pools at the hotels on the tour. In the apartment each room has a ceiling fan and I use them regularly, as well as taking comfort from the cool floor. The cool water and air on my skin give some relief.
There have been a couple of times we have been out in the rain. One Friday night walking back from the restaurant it was sprinkling. That was a nice feeling on my skin. The time we got caught in a downpour in the auto rickshaw I ended up cold from being so wet. That was a nice (rare) feeling also.
This country is hard. The floors are hard, the yoga floors are hard, the sidewalks are hard and uneven, the beds in the flat are planklike. At least since we have moved out of hotel stays, it feels like every surface is rock hard. The local people seem to not mind. I don’t know if I could get accustom to that.
Another battle is with the mosquitos. Stories of yoga students who have come before us contracting some mosquito borne illness makes us on guard with repellent that is 50% DEET. It is oily and smelly and not always effective. There are also little electric mosquito repellent things plugged into the outlets in the bedrooms that we turn on at night. The first week in the flat I had at least a dozen bites and took Claritin to help the allergic reaction and put on anti itch cream to help my urge to scratch. I have figured out the window in my bedroom so it is less likely for them to enter at night. Still, I spotted one flying around in the bathroom this morning.
Since being here I have had two massages. The first was in the hotel in Varanasi at the beginning of the trip. It was just what I needed to help work out the kinks, help reduce some of the post flight swelling in my legs, and relax. The second was here in Pune at the apartment. I had never before had an Ayurvedic massage and the pressure was intense. During I thought The result would be a million thumb print bruises all over my body but, alas, I felt just fine. Like yoga, sometimes the best part is when it is over.
I thought I would write some of my general impressions of India through the lens of the senses. There are so many differences between this country and mine. Here are some of the things I have heard.
The most prominent sound in India is the traffic. Not just the roar of the engines, but the honking. Loud long beeps from trucks, short toots from two wheelers, and the “hey are you looking to hire a rickshaw” horns as they slow while passing. During the day, a minute does not go by without a honk or more. After dark, it gets a bit quieter. After many days, there is a desensitization to all of it.
Then there are the barking dogs. Barking together, barking at one another and an occasional yip, like maybe one got clipped by the traffic they seem so oblivious to.
There is almost always someone sweeping. As I write this I hear the rhythmic swish, swish, swish of the broom somewhere outside of someone gathering up what has fallen from the tress overnight.
There are a few birds. Occasionally I hear one that sounds more like a monkey (maybe it is, but I haven’t seen any monkeys in Pune) but I don’t hear songbirds like we have in the morning at home. It is more like a flock of loud birds just before dawn that lands in a tree nearby. They cackle for a while and move on. And there are no crickets or frogs chirping at night.
In the predawn hours there is chanting. I don’t know where it is coming from and I can’t hear the words. It is faint but consistent for some time, I would guess for an hour or more ending with the sunrise.
My bathroom has a window and is somehow connected to the building in such a way that I can hear a neighbor either above or below me washing, and, on many mornings coughing and retching. Before I figured out it was a neighbor I thought it was one of my flat mates sick from the food or water. Thankfully, we have all stayed healthy in that respect, knock on wood.
The ceiling fan on high speed makes a nice white noise to block out a good portion of these noises at night.
People coming to our flat ring the doorbell if they have a code to the security door to the building. It’s a mechanical sort of sound, old and tired. Even though I have given Aneeta the security code for the door to the building, she doesn’t use it. Instead she stands in the parking lot and hollers “Mom-gi”! One of us goes down and let’s her in. Other vendors have used this same technique. We bought fruit and veggies from a guy who pushed his cart into the parking lot and started yelling … something. Other residents of the building also went out to make purchases.
And then, there is an occasional BANG, like a gunshot (which I am sure it is not), which I do not investigate. Sometimes it is better to not know everything.
On behalf of RIMYI, Prashant is in Delhi today receiving the award for the outstanding contribution to the development of yoga. So his class was cancelled and we took The opportunity to go to the intermediate class on the second floor with Souchma. She is a short, stock, strong looking woman with direct and clear instructions and a kindness and gentleness about her. I have observed one of her classes and it was a treat to take her class today. Like I do, she instructed us a couple times to smile, to soften the face and neck, yet to work hard in other areas. It was fun and, despite the fact that every pore was sweating, I am so glad I went.
The theme was “chest up, look forward, extend the side torso” and she did a great job at repeating instructions and using techniques to link that action through the entire class.
Here’s what I remember of the sequence:
Swastikasana, forward bend, head up, lead with chest
Baddhakonasana
Tadasana, urdhva hastasana, palms facing each other, palms forward
Uttanasana, hold toes
Adho Mukha Svanasana, one leg up, then the other
Adho Mukha Svanasana to urdhva Mukha Svanasana 2-3 times
Parsvottanasana
Prasarita paddotanasana
Trikonasana
Virabhadrasana II
Parsvakonasana
Ardha Chandrasana
Parighasana
Supta baddhakonasana
Dandasana to concave paschimottanasana
Bend knees, hold toes, straighten legs
Janusirsasana
Upa vista konasana, turn right and forward bend
Rolling! We rolled from supta urdhva tadasana to paschimottanasana
Then we rolled to salamba Sarvangasana and to halasana. I love this rolling! So fun!
Savasana with a rolled up blanket to support the spine and head
I thought I would write some of my general impressions of India through the lens of the senses. There are so many differences between this country and mine. It is hard to know where to start. I will start with smells.
When there are as many people in one place as there are here, it takes some doing to move them from place to place. When in the auto rickshaw it is the overwhelming smell of exhaust that I notice. Busses, cars, motorcycles, auto rickshaws all spew fumes. Many, I suspect, would not pass emissions testing elsewhere.
The heat and humidity, of course, is a major component of living here. My towels and washed clothes don’t dry as quickly and that leads to a stinkiness. On the flip side, our cleaning lady, Nanda, comes almost everyday and our apartment will have that pleasant scent of lemon cleaning solution after she is done, particularly after cleaning the floors. Alternately, our place fills with the aroma of food cooking when our cook, Aneeta, comes.
When people are in the heat so much, they sweat. That in and of itself leads to a certain kind of smell. One day I went to the “Western” shopping mall to look for a bra. I brought a couple of very old ones with me with the intent of tossing them at the end of the trip. Several days I put it off, feeling to sweaty and stinky to even step foot into a fitting room. Last week, feeling less hot and sticky than other days, I popped over to take a look. I think it was Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon and there were at least eight young women working in the lingerie section. The stores tend to employ way more people than we do in the states. All eight of them were gathered in a circle, chatting. Two approached me, one saying “Yes, Mum”. It must be a leftover thing from when the British were here because this greeting happens frequently. She kindly helped me find a couple to try on and while letting me in the fitting room I could smell her body odor. This has not been the only time this has happened. It is just the way it is.
Across the “busy road” is the School of Agriculture and we have taken some walks in there. The trees grow tall in most spots on the campus with open fields behind the buildings where the crops grow. There is one spot the first couple of weeks that was filled with the sweet smell of flowers. There aren’t many gardens or flowers here. At least not visible from the streets and sidewalks.
Our apartment building is next to another, which is next to a wall. One day we took a walk on the other side of that wall by mistake and found small huts, with lots of people living there with dogs and goats. It was the only time I have felt like I was in the wrong place since I have been here. A good number of mornings I wake to the smell of fire, which I am guessing is the way those folks are making their morning chai or breakfast. The first couple of mornings I though the apartment was on fire and woke with a start.
Like every drain I the apartment, my attached bathroom drains have small moth balls in them “for the bugs” I have no idea what kind of bugs or why they would be in the drain, but the bathroom has a hint of mothball smell.
While in class, particularly in pranayama or in savasana it is a surprise to me that something will noodle it’s way to my sense of smell: incense, the smell of DEET, or some baked good just out of the oven. Or maybe the baked good smell is in my imagination.
