I once spent some time in the town of Bodhgaya in North India which is where, over 2500 years ago, The Buddha became enlightened. The hotel which I was staying in had contemporary portraits of Buddhas hung on its corridor walls which served to create a pleasant, relaxing ambience. Guess during the course of my stay I managed to take pics of all of those Buddhas on my phone, ghosts of myself included. Here is a selection to browse through during what is possibly reflective time of the year for everyone.
Seeking but not finding the house builder, I travelled through the round of countless births: Oh painful is birth ever and again.
House builder you have now been seen; You shall not build the house again. You rafters have been broken down; Your ridge pole is demolished too,
My mind has now attained the unformed Nibbana And reached the end of every kind of craving.
This little excursion saw me, in the company of Sonam Tashi who was behind the wheel of a Mahindra XUV 500, travel to the Tibetan settlement of Hunsur in order to see the lama dances – cham – at the Dzongkar Choede Monastery. Hunsur is part of Mysore district in the south Indian state of Karnataka.
The lama dances or cham, are held according to the Tibetan calendar on the 29th day of the final month of the old year. Their primary purpose is to purify negativity, get rid of all the bad spirits which might still be around from the old year, so as to begin the new one afresh, slate wiped clean, with the culmination of the day’s activities being the burning of an effigy symbolising all that needs to be got shot of.
This was about the third or fourth year that we had made the trip together. To be honest Sonam Tashi and I usually call it a day after lunch and don’t stay for the afternoon part of the proceedings, both of us possibly having rather low boredom thresholds you see, but that is OK, because by that point we will have been there a full 4 hours and seen the main lama dance performances which always take place in the morning.
Fourth in a four part account of a trip to Ramanasramam, making my way across South India from the Tibetan settlement of Bylakuppe two hours west of Mysore in the state of Karnataka, to the city of Chennai on the east coast of Tamil Nadu before heading down the next day to the pilgrimage town of Tiruvannamalai.
My early morning meditation began later than usual due to my late night struggles to get back on track, but still I was in the meditation hall by 6 am where I had a solid hour of sitting whilst feeling in a good state of recovery. Concentration good, body pacified, and back to the breath! Skipped breakfast because I wanted a couple more hours for my stomach to feel fully settled, so instead I went and had a large glass of coffee from the tea bar across the road to the ashram entrance. Cost me 20 rupees which was a bit of a rip off price, but it was good to sit there for a while and watch the early morning street life pass on by outside the ashram. I realised the sound of the lorries had not bothered me half as much the night before, maybe that was because I had other things on my mind, such as my twisted up guts. Probably would be the case that if I stayed round the ashram long enough, I would not even notice those lorries were there, because everything would eventually blend into one.
After my roadside coffee I decided to take the path up to the cave behind the ashram where Ramana Maharshi had stayed for 7 years from 1915 – 1922. Going by the name of Skandasramam it was a half hour walk which took me some way up Arunachala the holy hill, and it felt good to be walking because I needed to stretch out, take some exercise in the fresh morning air. Even though it was not yet 8 in the morning the weather was already hot, so the speedy pace I set myself soon brought me out in a little sweat with my heart moderately pounding. Might just be the case that I was getting out of condition! Struck lucky when I got to the cave however, as it was just before it was opened up by the ashram attendant and there were already a bunch of Westerners on the steps outside the entrance. I realised they were waiting to go inside to sit and meditate, so I took the opportunity to join them. Soon enough I was sitting inside the cave with my back against one of the walls, eyes closed and drinking in the atmosphere, which I have to say was very powerful. Sat there in blissful silence for a good 40 minutes in which it felt like my body had simply fallen away. It was unexpected, just like the best experiences always are, an inner bathing with no contrivance, punching me back to a state of no mind, no mental conversation, almost an out of body experience and under the circumstances most welcome.
Third in a four part account of a trip to Ramanasramam, making my way across South India from the Tibetan settlement of Bylakuppe two hours west of Mysore in the state of Karnataka, to the city of Chennai on the east coast of Tamil Nadu before heading down the next day to the pilgrimage town of Tiruvannamalai.
Breakfast on my second day was the first meal I had taken in the ashram dining hall. Instead of doing the sensible thing and sitting at one of the wooden tables available to those whose knees were not that bendy, I went and sat on the hard granite floor. Pure ego made me do this because I wanted to look and feel like all the other ashram inmates, or at least the vast majority of them, despite the fact that as far as sitting with my legs crossed is concerned, my knees are completely and utterly shot to pieces and have been for years. Somewhat inevitably I was unable to cross my legs, only tuck them under my meditation stool which I had brought with me and the pain from doing that was intense, very bad indeed. I had to contort myself into a very strange position, the only one which enabled me to pick up my food from the banana leaf and put it in my mouth without spilling the whole damn lot over my clothes. This contortion of my body meant having to seriously twist my stomach, something which I knew was not going to be good for my digestion, not good at all. Under considerable pressure to keep it all together, I gave myself a lot of unnecessary stress over it and did not enjoy my breakfast at all. I was sweating over my physical posture the whole damn time, trying to make it work but failing, which was a pity because the food served was both tasty and delicious.
Took a walk to the ashram office after breakfast to see if it was possible for me to stay on for an extra two days after my allotted time there. The night before I figured that my travel schedule would allow me to do this and since I felt that I was now settling into life at the ashram, it seemed like it would be a great thing to do. This was despite the almost constant nighttime disturbances of my mind those lorries caused and daytime ones which came from trying to sit on the floor of the dining hall at meal times. I was to be disappointed however, because the man in the office almost laughed and told me there was no chance of me being able to stay any longer than what I had booked for. Fact of the matter was the ashram was more or less completely full all year round, which was why it had been necessary for me to write to them a couple of months in advance. I walked away pretending not to be hacked off about it, but in truth I was more than a little bit gutted because I’d already got it into my head that I would be able to stay there two days extra, falling victim to what had turned out to be little more than deluded expectation.
Second in a four part account of a trip to Ramanasramam, making my way across South India from the Tibetan settlement of Bylakuppe two hours west of Mysore in the state of Karnataka, to the city of Chennai on the east coast of Tamil Nadu before heading down the next day to the pilgrimage town of Tiruvannamalai.
Shifted across to the ashram the following morning without too much grief. The Hotel Ramakrishna had been a good place to stay, the double room I’d booked was a decent price, not over the top, whilst the friendly staff and excellent restaurant meant I would have no hesitation in going there again if that was ever on the agenda. The auto rickshaw ride across town cost me 60 rupees which was probably a bit too pricey, but since I was standing outside the Ramakrishna with a rather heavy rucksack slung over my shoulder and no other form of transport in sight, there was only so much time I could spend in attempting to cut the best possible deal. Naturally enough I booked myself in at the ashram office without any problem and after the formalities were completed I was taken to my room, which was perfectly fine, also being located in a quiet part of the ashram. It came with a small attached bathroom, about which I was warned not to waste water because it was now on the cusp of the hot and dry season when such things began to get scarce. Fair enough, saw the point, I also saw there was a framed picture of Ramana Maharshi gazing serenely out at me from the middle of the cabinet opposite my bed. Nice one! This was good, it made me feel that I would be able to sit there and meditate in my room without any problem. After sorting through the usual stuff which goes with travelling in India, precious things such as books to read, notebooks to write in, music to listen to, clothes to wear, toiletries, torch, mosquito spray, I was ready to take a walk down to the meditation hall.
Sat there in the meditation hall, sat on my meditation stool for over an hour, where it was much less busy than the evening before when I had first stuck my head through the door. Happy to report that it was good sitting on the meditation stool which I had brought along with me, having stored it at the bottom of my rucksack before I’d hit the road from the settlement. I was taking in the silence of the hall, its black floor so worn and shiny, the couch in the corner where Ramana Maharshi had sat and upon which now rested a huge oil painting portrait of him, making it feel as if he was still very much there. He always told people before he passed away, that his presence extended beyond his body and into the deeper dimensions of time and space. Just a question of faith as to whether you believed it or not.
First in a four part account of a trip to Ramanasramam, making my way across South India from the Tibetan settlement of Bylakuppe two hours west of Mysore in the state of Karnataka, to the city of Chennai on the east coast of Tamil Nadu before heading down the next day to the pilgrimage town of Tiruvannamalai.
On the road, back on the tracks. A cross country swing west to east. First from Bylakuppe Tibetan settlement to Mysore by car with my brother in law Sonam Tashi, then the Shatabdi Express train from Mysore to Chennai with one stop in Bangalore along the way, all in all a 10 hour ride. Mysore to Bangalore, done that part of the journey so many times before it doesn’t bear thinking about and the leg to Chennai I have done quite a few times as well. All back in the days when we used to fly from London to Chennai because there hadn’t been a direct flight to Bangalore, something which got rectified around 2004.
This time seemed better as the train was pretty new which meant it was actually possible to see through the windows and get a good view of the country, the plains country of southern Karnataka, followed by the plains country of northern Tamil Nadu. Nothing too much to write home about in terms of sights seen if truth be told, but quietly fascinating nonetheless. Rolling through the places out east along the way from the sandalwood city of Mysore to the garden city of Bangalore went something like this – Mandya, sugar town; Maddur, spice town; Channapatna, city of toys; Ramanagara, silk city. Stared out the window most of the time as the land passed on by and gradually faded into sunset, then when there was nothing more to see I sat there and read a book.
Train was full after Bangalore, packed to the rafters. An Indian couple sat in the seats behind me were relentlessly speaking English with their children, educating them mercilessly for the whole damn ride. Education, education, education; that was the name of the game, the only show in town as far as they were concerned, no dust bowl gazin’ for them that was for sure. It dawned on me that I would have absolutely nuthin’ to say to them if they spoke to me. They were neither good nor bad, just living out their destinies right on the button, pushing on all the way to the top if they could, for them and their children and for generations to come. Now, when was it exactly I fell off that particular tree?
Second of a two part account of a road ride through the hills of far south Karnataka down onto the plains of Tamil Nadu. We were heading for the city of Coimbatore and from there taking an excursion 30 km or so west of it to the ashram of an Indian spiritual teacher by the name of Sadhguru. Known as Isha Yoga Centre, it is a place of some considerable size and a magnet for many thousands of visitors throughout the course of the year.
After a rest on my bed in the Kiscol Grands, where I was fighting off a headache from the ride to Sadhguru’s Isha Yoga Centre, I was due to meet Sonam Tashi and Ranga down in the foyer at seven in order to go and find somewhere to eat. I did a bit of searching on Google for restaurants in Coimbatore and saw that our best bet was gonna be a place called Barbecue Nation which was located in the Hotel Metro City. It was five stars all the way as far as the reviews were concerned and for some reason I felt a little bit of meat eating was in order. Dunno why, usually I try to be veg as much as I can, but just there an’ then I wanted to eat some chicken. Maybe the need to ground myself was kicking in after my close shave with that headache, a possible thumper, anyway whatever, Barbecue Nation was the place I came up with so that was what I suggested to Sonam Tashi and Ranga when I met up with them. Thankfully the effect of those Nurofens I popped was already kicking in and I was beginning to feel more like facing the blinding lights and dust clouds of evening time Coimbatore, which was probably just as well because on the roads it was going be a take no prisoners situation, with headlights full beam and all manner of vehicles coming at us from wherever we looked.
First of a two part account of a road ride through the hills of far south Karnataka down onto the plains of Tamil Nadu. We were heading for the city of Coimbatore and from there taking an excursion 30 km or so west of it to the ashram of an Indian spiritual teacher by the name of Sadhguru. Known as Isha Yoga Centre, it is a place some considerable size and a magnet for many thousands of visitors throughout the course of the year.
By 7.50 I was out of the guest house in the Dhondenling Tibetan Settlement of Kollegal, which is located in the far south of the state of Karnataka, and making my way to my brother in law Sonam Tashi’s quarters halfway up a nearby hill, at the gates of which his driver Ranga was cleaning the windscreen of the car which was going to take the three of us down to Coimbatore. There was a slight delay before we got under way due to the fact Sonam Tashi couldn’t find the keys to his motor, despite the fact all the doors were open because of Ranga’s cleaning and shining. Somehow in the process of the work the keys had got mislaid, but how and when that had happened was all a bit of a mystery. Eventually they turned up, but only after a whole load of searching, having escaped to a corner on the floor by the front passenger seat, but once retrieved we were soon on the road and out of the settlement, heading south to the border.
Account of a trip made with my brother in law Sonam Tashi to the Mallilli Falls in the Coorg Hills, around 30 km to the west of the Coorgi town of Somvarpet.
The trip to Mallalli Falls took place the day after our ride up to Mandalpatti. Somvarpet was the town we were heading to and it lay approx 30 km north east of Kushal Nagar up in the Coorg hills, then from Somvarpet it was another 27 kilometres to the Mallalli Falls, heading more or less due west. In the Notes page on my iphone I tapped in the following –
Somvarpet, next place to go on a 2 day sleigh ride through the hills of Coorg. Never gonna tire of the feeling which comes over me when I go hill hikin’ from outta different temperatures where the land doth change. Sunticoppa, halfway up the pipe to Madikeri we could have gone and then got the SH8, but no, Sonam Tashi had other ideas and took us on a road which lay on the east side of Kushal Nagar. Coupla days hill rollin’, stepping out upon a different scene away from the heat haze of the plains where the red soil of Karnataka contains the tales of a 1000 million stories all bled out beneath the sun which we will never get to know. But it is just that I know it will soon stop happening – this goin’ here an’ goin’ there – because Sonam Tashi shifts back to Kollegal tomorrow, the place where he is now stationed as Chief Settlement Office and about four hours drive away from Bylakuppe. It is then that I will have the time to sit back an’ do more writin’ so as to keep up with all this stuff I have set myself the task of reporting on.
Account of a trip taken with my brother in law up into the hills of Coorg where we were heading for the Pushpagiri Wildlife Sanctuary within which was Mandalpatti, a place from which to view the Western Ghats in that region of Karnataka.
The last couple of days me and Sonam Tashi have been hittin’ the road and driving up into the hills of Coorg. First day of the two saw us go to a place called Mandalpatti in the Pushpagiri Wildlife Sanctuary which is in the Pushpagiri Hills to the north east of the hill station town of Madikeri, the administrative centre of the Coorg district of Karnataka. Second day was a swing across to the town of Somvarpet some 30 kilometres east of the Coorg town of Kushal Nagar and from there to make our way to Mallalli Falls, once again in the Pushpagiri Hills, only this time at the other end of them to where we went the day before.
TracelessTrails 