In the month I've been here, India has continually provided me with places, people, and circumstances that cause me to stop and think: "I can't believe this is happening". Being constantly confronted with the surreal leads me to question reality, or at least my version of it. And while I think it's a good thing, if you are constantly rocking the boat eventually that boat is gonna tip. For now, my mental boat is doing just fine, so I will take this opportunity to relate to you the two latest occurrences of the Indian surreal.
Leaving from where we left off, Mal, Adam and I left Hampi and found ourselves in the small city of Mysore. It has, apparently, a flourishing yoga community, along with Ayurvedic healing classes and meditation retreats. While the 3 of us did take a meditation class (At the end of which my head seemed larger than my body, it was neat) we weren't really sure why we were in Mysore, what brought us here or what we were supposed to do.
The answer came to us in the form of giant posters spread all over the city that bore a woman's smiling, motherly face with rays of light shooting out behind her. We asked a driver what the deal was with this woman, I mean her face was plastered everywhere. It turns out she is the one they call The Hugging Amma. She is a spiritual leader that has devoted herself to the art of the hug, and her quest is to hug all 6.7 billion people on earth. The Hugging Amma has traveled all over the world hugging people. Immediately, we agreed that it was necessary to get a hug from this woman. We were taken to an outdoor hall where around a two thousand people sat or stood, facing the stage, watching Hugging Amma and her merry band sing songs about how the Divine Mother is coming, that she is laughing, and that she smells sweeter than ambrosia, but she's more easily accessible than ambrosia, which apparently is difficult to access (all this I gleaned from helpful teleprompters with subtitles).
After a number of songs in which she shot laughs into a microphone that echoed them out into the great sonic, all while threw her hands in the air, the music came to a climax; people started to get the feeling that hugs were on their way. In an elaborate system designed to streamline the reception of hundreds of hugs, we queued up. I felt like I was a bolt in a hug assembly line. As I stood there, watching the the thousands of people line up for a hug from a fat holy Indian woman, the pure ridiculousness of the entire situation occurred to me. The organization! the effort! the pomp! the ceremony! all for a hug! it was absurd! I loved it. As I approached Hugging Amma, a friendly young man cleaned my face with a tissue, and another led me to the Mama, he made sure my hands stayed to my sides, and with his hand on the back of my head, guided me into Big Mama's breast. She hugged me, and whispered 'my precious, my precious, my precious' in my ear. While doing this she handed me a scrunched up newspaper, containing an orange candy and a small bag of red powder. I have the red powder and am unsure of what to do with it. I'll keep it I guess, and have it as a reminder of the time I lined up for an hour in order to get a holy hug from the happiest fat woman in India.
The second story begins with an ending. Mal left us. He didn't have a lot of time left in India and still wanted to head north to see the Taj Mahal. Adam and I had our sights set further south, so we parted ways with a hug and a 'see ya later'. Thanks Mal for the laughs, the great conversations, and the friendship.
From Mysore we were off to a placed called Pondicherry. A little ways north of Pondi is the small town of Auroville. Auroville is a very intriguing project masterminded by a man named Sri Aurobindo, and his partner, a woman named 'The Mother'. They wanted to create an utopian society removed from any political, religious, or racial barriers. In a way, they've succeeded. It truly is an amazing place and I suggest anyone to go there. They've created a lot of social programs and tranformed a desolate landscape into a lush forest with farms and parks. They have lots of things to do and see there, yoga, qi gong, musical classes and much more available. It is a cool place.
They also have a massive Golden Golf Ball.
Well, it's not actually a massive Golden Golf Ball. But it looks like one. It's actually called the 'Matrimandir' and it is, as they put it, the soul of Auroville. We heard it is quite amazing inside, and we really wanted to get in, so we went off searching to find out how. Along the way we met yet another Brit. This in the form a lovely girl named Dominique. The 3 of us became fast friends and together we sought entrance in to the orb, which involved alot of waiting, red tape, and formality. Eventually, we were allowed in, but would have to wait 2 days.
We arrived at dawn, Auroville's Giant Golden Ball glistened in the morning sun. About fifty feet from the Matrimandir (the Golden Golf Ball) our guide stopped us and laid the ground rules: no talking, no shoes, no pictures, and think good thoughts. The fifty or so people that comprised our group approached the Golf Ball like we were the last humans on Earth, and in the massive ball we would rocket to a different part of the universe and return humanity to its former glory. And, naturally, we would need new socks (once inside we were asked to put on a pair of socks that were neatly stacked beside obsidian benches). Inside was lit in a dim copper light, waterfalls were placed on all four compass points. There were two spiral ramps that led to the centre room. The room of concentration. We were led up the ramp in complete silence. It occurred to me that this could be what heaven is like, I think; a constant line of people, walking up a pristine white spiral ramp up, up into the heavens, waiting to be judged while wearing their pairs of new socks.
The Room of Concentration had white walls, and twelve white pillars that surrounded a perfectly smooth, perfectly clear round glass orb. Sunlight was funneled from the top of the Mandir down onto the very top of the orb. We were given cushions, and we sat and stared--concentrated--on this glass orb. I don't know how long we were there.
Intestines still fine.
Leaving from where we left off, Mal, Adam and I left Hampi and found ourselves in the small city of Mysore. It has, apparently, a flourishing yoga community, along with Ayurvedic healing classes and meditation retreats. While the 3 of us did take a meditation class (At the end of which my head seemed larger than my body, it was neat) we weren't really sure why we were in Mysore, what brought us here or what we were supposed to do.
The answer came to us in the form of giant posters spread all over the city that bore a woman's smiling, motherly face with rays of light shooting out behind her. We asked a driver what the deal was with this woman, I mean her face was plastered everywhere. It turns out she is the one they call The Hugging Amma. She is a spiritual leader that has devoted herself to the art of the hug, and her quest is to hug all 6.7 billion people on earth. The Hugging Amma has traveled all over the world hugging people. Immediately, we agreed that it was necessary to get a hug from this woman. We were taken to an outdoor hall where around a two thousand people sat or stood, facing the stage, watching Hugging Amma and her merry band sing songs about how the Divine Mother is coming, that she is laughing, and that she smells sweeter than ambrosia, but she's more easily accessible than ambrosia, which apparently is difficult to access (all this I gleaned from helpful teleprompters with subtitles).
After a number of songs in which she shot laughs into a microphone that echoed them out into the great sonic, all while threw her hands in the air, the music came to a climax; people started to get the feeling that hugs were on their way. In an elaborate system designed to streamline the reception of hundreds of hugs, we queued up. I felt like I was a bolt in a hug assembly line. As I stood there, watching the the thousands of people line up for a hug from a fat holy Indian woman, the pure ridiculousness of the entire situation occurred to me. The organization! the effort! the pomp! the ceremony! all for a hug! it was absurd! I loved it. As I approached Hugging Amma, a friendly young man cleaned my face with a tissue, and another led me to the Mama, he made sure my hands stayed to my sides, and with his hand on the back of my head, guided me into Big Mama's breast. She hugged me, and whispered 'my precious, my precious, my precious' in my ear. While doing this she handed me a scrunched up newspaper, containing an orange candy and a small bag of red powder. I have the red powder and am unsure of what to do with it. I'll keep it I guess, and have it as a reminder of the time I lined up for an hour in order to get a holy hug from the happiest fat woman in India.
The second story begins with an ending. Mal left us. He didn't have a lot of time left in India and still wanted to head north to see the Taj Mahal. Adam and I had our sights set further south, so we parted ways with a hug and a 'see ya later'. Thanks Mal for the laughs, the great conversations, and the friendship.
From Mysore we were off to a placed called Pondicherry. A little ways north of Pondi is the small town of Auroville. Auroville is a very intriguing project masterminded by a man named Sri Aurobindo, and his partner, a woman named 'The Mother'. They wanted to create an utopian society removed from any political, religious, or racial barriers. In a way, they've succeeded. It truly is an amazing place and I suggest anyone to go there. They've created a lot of social programs and tranformed a desolate landscape into a lush forest with farms and parks. They have lots of things to do and see there, yoga, qi gong, musical classes and much more available. It is a cool place.
They also have a massive Golden Golf Ball.
Well, it's not actually a massive Golden Golf Ball. But it looks like one. It's actually called the 'Matrimandir' and it is, as they put it, the soul of Auroville. We heard it is quite amazing inside, and we really wanted to get in, so we went off searching to find out how. Along the way we met yet another Brit. This in the form a lovely girl named Dominique. The 3 of us became fast friends and together we sought entrance in to the orb, which involved alot of waiting, red tape, and formality. Eventually, we were allowed in, but would have to wait 2 days.
We arrived at dawn, Auroville's Giant Golden Ball glistened in the morning sun. About fifty feet from the Matrimandir (the Golden Golf Ball) our guide stopped us and laid the ground rules: no talking, no shoes, no pictures, and think good thoughts. The fifty or so people that comprised our group approached the Golf Ball like we were the last humans on Earth, and in the massive ball we would rocket to a different part of the universe and return humanity to its former glory. And, naturally, we would need new socks (once inside we were asked to put on a pair of socks that were neatly stacked beside obsidian benches). Inside was lit in a dim copper light, waterfalls were placed on all four compass points. There were two spiral ramps that led to the centre room. The room of concentration. We were led up the ramp in complete silence. It occurred to me that this could be what heaven is like, I think; a constant line of people, walking up a pristine white spiral ramp up, up into the heavens, waiting to be judged while wearing their pairs of new socks.
The Room of Concentration had white walls, and twelve white pillars that surrounded a perfectly smooth, perfectly clear round glass orb. Sunlight was funneled from the top of the Mandir down onto the very top of the orb. We were given cushions, and we sat and stared--concentrated--on this glass orb. I don't know how long we were there.
Intestines still fine.
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