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Delhi, Dogs and Peace

We left the ashram and the discussion of God, drove almost seven hours to Delhi and went straight to the dogs…

Traveling around India, it is readily apparent that life is not easy for most. Though there is a huge middle class, and some of the richest people in the world, there are still millions of people struggling on a subsistence level.

Delhi Delivery

This rough world extends to all beings; the skinny horses pulling the old carts, the threadbare donkeys, the rough-looking cows and the scrawny dogs. But Darwin’s theory is especially hard at work when it comes to the dogs….survival of the fittest has cleared out any weak genetic failings. To survive on the streets of Delhi, these dogs need to be strong, robust and lean. The resulting Desi dog is a dog with resilient genes.

Before we left Canada, Karen had heard about these Indian dogs from a colleague. He told her that his adopted Desi dog was a gentle and brilliant companion and he’d recommend the breed to anyone.

And so…Karen has been on a hunt for a Desi dog. We decided it might be problematic to kidnap one off the streets, though there is certainly no shortage. We have been telling every Desi dog we meet that they’d soon have a cousin in Canada.

In the ashram, she discovered a website for an Indian dog rescue clinic, a few emails ensued with the rescue shelter woman who lives in Abbotsford (only 60 kilometers from Vancouver). She connected Karen to the veterinarian in Delhi who does the actual dog rescues and vaccinations…and so…when we arrived in Delhi yesterday afternoon we went straight to Dr. Choudhary’s pet clinic.

We sat with the four pups (the last remaining dogs from a litter of nine) that were rescued from a Delhi slum. They were kept with their mother until they were three-months old and then placed in a nearby foster home (an Indian woman who is currently caring for 14 of these dogs in her small Delhi apartment). The good doctor has ensured that all the dogs have been spayed/neutered and had all their shots.

Which One?

Karen has named her new dog Shanti (the Sanskrit word for Peace).

So, while we tour Rajasthan, Dr. Choudhary will be organizing paperwork and shipping crates so Shanti can travel on Karen’s flight. Karen is allowed two dogs as excess baggage, which is much cheaper than the rescue center having to ship them separately. Viola is going to try and change her ticket to the same flight, and hopefully will claim two more dogs under her baggage allowance as well.

In less than two-weeks there will be four Indian doggie-siblings landing in Vancouver. They will probably be shocked by the lack of plastic garbage on the streets, then again, it might be the West Coast rain that they find most disconcerting.

Shanti will go home with Karen where she can curl by the fireplace each morning while Karen plays her some Indian music and maybe burns a stick or two of incense.

The other three will go to the shelter in Abbotsford to await new homes…unless…someone else wants to help some new Canadian dogs?

Doing a Whole Lot of Nothing

 
We first noticed them in Delhi…Indians wearing funky T-shirts emblazoned with lovely script that read, Being Human. I found it noteworthy that none of the shirts said, “Doing Human”.

It has become abundantly clear in these days spent in the ashram, and during the previous two-weeks walking in Wales, that when I’m at home, I spend a bizarre amount of time on the computer, a ridiculous other amount of time doing who-knows-what, and very little time just being.

Down time is key to assimilate any new information and/or experiences and to actually process whatever has happened.  It is necessary to stop the barrage of constant stimuli that says you must stay tuned in, tapped in, and on-top-of, whatever is ‘trending’ (Oh, how I despise that word).

Funny thing. We’ve been in this ashram bubble with no news from anywhere, and guess what? Haven’t really missed a thing.

Swami Brahmdev in Satsang

Swami Brahmdev

 

The Swami has said that, “…silence is the answer for all the deep questions.”

I think silence works pretty well for all the not-so-deep questions too. In fact, I think it just might be the cure for everything. I feel a bumper sticker coming on… Seek Silence.

So, I now have a plan for my re-entry in to my ‘real’ life.

I am going to create more nothing time. Of course, nothing in this context actually turns out to mean absolutely everything.

Doing Nothing

Doing A Whole Lot of Nothing

 

Grant Me the Serenity

Ashram Flowers

Ashram Flowers

I am sitting in the ashram’s computer room. It is a shady room with a ceiling fan that, like the one in my Realization room, is ramped up to turbo-speed. Given that most things in this country are in a state of perpetual breakdown, I can’t help but wonder how many times these things have just untwirled themselves from their casings and flung blades around the room.

Powerlines

Visual Stimuli

Of course, this also being India, it seems every time I have that thought, there is yet another power outage and there are no fans at all. That reality is much, much worse…

You might guess that I especially wonder about annihilation-by-fan at night, once I’ve dragged my little bed into the center of the room so I can derive the fan’s full benefit.

Ah yes, the power of the imagination. It can go so many ways, non?

We are learning each day to gain control over this wily mind that gallops around, jumping fences and flinging itself into arenas of thought that are not necessarily to our benefit. There are two meditation sittings each day; 6 am and 6 pm. The morning meditation is followed by the asanas; poses designed to slow the mind and fully integrate it with the body.

At night, the process is reversed; we do the asanas for an hour and then sit for the following hour in the most beautiful 12-sided room. There is one candle at an altar, a large glowing crystal ball in the center of the room, all of it perfumed with incense wafted about by fans.

Yesterday’s excursion to the holy city of Rishikesh was a definite serenity-reality check. It is one thing to swan about with nothing but butterflies flitting on the hibiscus, jungle bird song and the lush greenery of the ashram. It is quite another to dive into the chaos of the city with monkeys diving from roofs and bridges, cows causing traffic jams while the pong of sewage lines your nasal passages during lunch. To walk past the sadhus (holy men) lined up in the dust, leaning against a broken down wall, begging tins in hand is to train yourself not to fall down and cry.

Drying Dishcloths and Flower

And yet. Somehow all this intensity is so beautiful too. The woman in a princess-pink sari with an enormous bundle of grasses on her head, the Christmas garland dangling from the handlebars of nearly every motorcycle, the scrubbed-up children in their school uniforms, hysterically-decorated Tata lorries and the large-eyed baby held by a mother dressed in colours more beautiful than any of the peacock feather fans offered for sale.

Clever Cows

Public Water Fountains

Our driver, Sonu, returned us in time to shower off the city’s sweat and dirt and get to the evening’s meditation.

I think I’ve become institutionalized. I feel no need to emerge again until we start the next leg of our journey next week.

What to Do? Living in the Ashram

 

Lunch at the Ashram

Let the congregation rise and say, “Alleluia!” Once more with feeling please… “Rejoice with me, for the bugs are gone!”

Yesterday I moved from Generosity to Realization (aka Room # 14 to Room # 16), and with the move, I left the infestation of crawly things behind. I feel like I’ve suddenly been upgraded to the five-star penthouse suite, though the room is more or less an exact replica – SANS – buggage.

Amazingly, yesterday somehow slipped by for all of us. We all commented on how surprised we were by the 3:30 chai bell. Funny, how doing tons of nothing can somehow feel like plenty.

To be fair, we seem to be doing laundry almost every day, what with the copious sweating and all. But the very same heat that makes us drip and soak our clothes, is also the solution to quick-drying garments. Laundry is actually kind of fun, as it’s another opportunity to cool off.

Tomorrow we’re taking our first trip out of the ashram and having a car pick us up to take us into Rishikesh. Somehow we have a shopping list…not sure why, given that every need is taken care of.

We simply show up for meals and are responsible for washing our metal plate, spoon and cup. Beyond keeping our own monastic little room clean and the aforementioned laundry…there is nowhere to be and nowhere to go. Imagine that.

I’m beginning to understand why they have ashramites here that are staying for six month and year durations. Talk about no pressure.

Incredible.

Embracing That Indian Sweat…

 

Ashram Annies

Colleen Ann, Karen Ann, Susan Anne, Viola Ann

 

The word ‘rivulets’ has taken on a whole new meaning, now that I’ve associated it with the constant sweat that wends down my back, my arms, my stomach and my calves. I had no idea my thumbs could sweat, but even while I type this, the beads are formed on my fingers. Talk about sweating the writing…

The bonus is that the dry shin-skin on my legs (that heaven’s own amount of moisturizer couldn’t touch back home) has become supple and younger.  It seems a rather steep price to pay for youthful skin.

We are starting to get the groove of the ashram, though I’m sure our semi-hysterical moments aren’t quite what they had in mind during dinner. But what’s cool about this place is the very live-&-let-live atmosphere. You can show up to everything or come to none of the events at all. You are free to rest, relax or pursue your interests though we’ve discovered that the heat mostly inspires a lassitude of rather epic proportions.

So far we four ashramites have been very compliant. We are always on time for our 6 am meditation, 7 am yoga and are first in line to kick off our flip-flops in anticipation for the  very-welcome 8 am breakfast gong.  I haven’t cracked open my packets of instant coffee and am finding the breakfast chai, and the 3:30 pm chai break, enough caffeine to keep me going.

I don’t think any of us has ever had such sustained time of ‘nothingness’, and though a little discomfiting at first, I think we’re all starting to settle into this life. The yoga and heat is probably exactly what my body needed after the Offa’s Dyke trek and the foot massage in the healing clinic today was something sent directly from heaven. It would have been nice to have one of those sessions after each day on that trail.

I had some success with the cockroaches when the manager gave me a partial can of something equivalent to Agent Orange. I fumed up the room, left it for the day and that night I could turn on the light in the bathroom without the wall becoming a new type of buggy-nightmare wallpaper. The downside was the rather unnerving sensation of tingly lips and a rather odd cheek numbness, but extermination is not something to be trifled with.

The bad news is that the effect only lasted that one night. Alas, the killing fields returned and last night was another shoe-slapping extravaganza.

Luckily the bathroom floor-washing method is to throw a bucket of water on the tiles and then use the long handled super-squeegee to sluice it all into the drain in the corner. Luckily, the drain doesn’t fit and the buggy bodies can be pushed into the holes on the side. I’m sure it’s the very same holes that those bugs come up in the night, but so far, no matter what I place on top of that drain has proven to be a deterrent.

It has mostly been a humorous (not so funny at night, but much funnier in the morning) price to pay for all the other benefits we are finding.

I hadn’t counted on the Swami-factor. I came here mostly for the yoga, the meditation, the healthy vegetarian food, time to hang with my friends, a chance to catch up on some reading and writing, and the tropical locale. I figured I’d attend one Swami session and mark it down as an ‘experience’.

But the morning sessions with Swami Brandhev are proving to be my favourite part of the day (along with the morning meditation and yoga). He truly is a wise man and has given us many practical insights on how to live a more fully conscious life.

So. I’m becoming one with the whole sweaty thing…now if I could just accept those bugs.