Indian Farewell

(Originally written Jan. 13) I sit here alone in a modest little government home in the city of Vadodara (Barota), in the state of Gujarat, still in the country of India. I am surrounded by pictures of Sri Aurobindo and ‘The Mother’ and the birds are chirping on one side of this building, while someone is blasting bad technobangra music at full decibel on the other side of this building. The birds sing between branches strewn with lost kites and the music sings in anticipation of the city-wide kite festival, wherein people fly hundreds of kites and slice the bright pink strings of others’ kites in hopes of being the last kite runner flying.

The inhabitants of this apartment are both MDs in Ayurvedic medicine and devotees of Sri Aurobindo Ashram. They are Gujarati and in their mid 50s. Right now, they are at work. You may be asking yourself, “why is Kyra there?” Great question. I am here doing a yogic cleanse with one of the doctors, who I met at the Int’l Yogic Conference in Pondicherry. There, the doctor has one of her offices and a home near the ashram, where she regularly conducts seminars and gives ayurvedic consultations and massages. She told me that she used to give massages to ‘The Mother’s’ daughter or granddaughter – I can’t remember which. She has also been sponsored to go to Brazil several times to teach one to two month long courses in ayurveda, yoga, massage and naturopathy. She was also a guest speaker at the International Yoga Conference.

In Pondicherry, when I learned from an acquaintance that four people were heading to Chennai one morning, I suggested we share a cab. I was introduced to the doctor as one of the four and learned that she, like me, was headed straight for the airport. I suggested we go to the airport together. When she asked where I was going, I told her I was going to Kaivalyadhana ashram for a panchakarma one week cleanse. She said, “that place is not so good, come with me, I am an ayurvedic doctor, I have many things to teach you” and handed me her card. She was called away to be honored as a guest speaker and came back. She looked me squarely in the eye, held my hand and said “we have met in a past life,” “you are a special person,” “I’m supposed to teach you what I know,” “come with me.” I told her I’d think about it and agreed to meet her later that evening. In the evening, the doctor told me that she would give me spiritual, physical, mental, cosmic and karmic cleansing. She said I could come to her house and she would cook for me and take care of all of my needs, including cleansing, massage, shirodahra, steam, etc. Her price was almost twice that of the ashram. I questioned whether I should go to an ashram and be one of many receiving treatments or go alone with this doctor and be her sole patient. I wasn’t sure. But, then I figured that everything happens for a reason and it would be best just to throw caution to the wind. I also figured that this would be very nice individualized treatment and much better than being a number in an ashram. I asked if she knew where I could get a small diamond stud for my nose b/c I heard Gujarat had cheap diamonds and gold. She smiled and said we could do that. I assumed that because she was an MD from Gujarat (where many wealthy indian families named Patel come from), that her house and office would be very nice...

Wrong. After a 10 hour journey in which I read a book given to me by the amiable and integrity-filled man Rajen (Jay’s cousin who I met for two dinners and a breakfast before leaving and is lovely) about Gujarat, I was a bit rifled. First, I didn’t know that Gujarat had a massive slaying of Muslims by Hindis in only 2002, including burning of buildings with people in it, rapes, murders and massacres. This was a bit disconcerting. When we arrived to the airport, the large town of Ahmnebad was dilapidated and chaotic with massive construction and giant piles of garbage, dirt and potholes everywhere. It was India at it’s finest. After the immaculate, French-designed town of Pondicherry, this city was a shocker. I looked at everyone wondering whether they had participated only seven years ago in the taking and raping of human lives. She told me in the car that she and her husband were very poor and lived very modest lives. She was honest. We arrived to her apartment which was a polished concrete floor with colored rocks in every room and walls sorely in need of paint (which was chipping, cracked and dripping with various colors of yellow and green ???)). It was open air with rickety wooden doors and windows to close in the heat. It was cold in Gujarat – another surprise I hadn’t expected after having such lovely weather in India all along (most of the time). The apartment was freezing – even more so without any carpets in the entire breezy place. It was spartanly furnished and very, very basic. There was an Indian toilet and one room with a shower head, but no hot water. Every single room was decked with pictures of Sri Aurobindo and ‘The Mother’ on almost every wall. The treatment room had an alter to the two of them and not even a massage table. I was too tired to react. I just went to sleep in the bed that they provided for me. That night, I had a dream that ‘The Mother’ was with me and I felt a tremendous sense of peace ease my nerves. I then had a nightmare and woke up crying in the middle of the night – I dreamt that I had offended my sister Stacy by being mean and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

The next morning, I awoke to spooky chamber music being played from an organ. I wondered what the he#! I was doing here. The music stopped and the doctor started singing a sweet Gujarati song. Her voice was calming and lovely. I decided to give it a go. We woke up at 6:30, per her instruction and I learned the morning cleansing routine: gargle warm salt water five times, wash my eyes with cold water, take a lidfull of sesame oil in my mouth and hold while exercising for 10 minutes, brush my teeth with ayurvedic powder, scrape my tongue with a special copper contraption so deeply that I gag and hack loogies out of my fully extended tongue, sit in their terrace and drink slowly a glass of warm water, take a jala neti pot to my nostrils and wash out, then quicly dring 2 glasses of warm salt water after which I hold in my stomach, massage my chest, stick my tongue out and gag myself until all of the salt water comes out via 5-6 vomits, then gargle salt water once more and go to the terrace again for a special warm juice of neem, lemon, ginger, tumeric and water. This, we do every morning at 6:30 before beginning out treatment for the day.

The first morning, she told me some philosophies of yoga and gave credit repeatedly to ‘The Mother’ who guides us and provides us everything we need from the Divine. I looked at the pictures of the mother and just couldn’t see how I could revere this woman. I looked at the doctor and continued to wonder if I made a mistake.

After we did some breathing exercises and other things (that I can’t recall just now), she told me she’d have to go to a conference until 2 p.m., but that an assistant was there to take care of me. The assistant was a young, pretty Indian girl. She had me lie on the floor buck naked with nothing but a blanket between me and the floor and the windows open with a draft. It was freezing! She told me not to talk, then asked me a series of questions. The massage was horrible – her hands were cold and she sniffled the whole time while I wondered if she might accidentally snot on me. She then told me to listen to the creepy organ music as this was ‘The Mother’ playing a piece she wrote to stimulate cell regeneration and growth. I insisted that I have blankets both above and below me. At this point, I started crying...I then listed to another tape of a hypnotherapist with a creepy accent telling me to imagine that I was ascending a rainbow. We went to the kitchen thereafter for a “steam” and I literally sat naked on a stool while she took a steamer connected to the boiling water and waved it slowly over each limb. Occasionally, there would be boiling hot water dripping on me and I’d have to control my reaction as not to hit the steamer. This, too, was awful. She then told me to take a bath. This amounted to sitting in a little bucket filled with warm water and sponging myself on the cold floor.

After the bath, I had another juice and some food (which was delicious). The girl asked how much the doctor was charging me. She then told me that the doctor doesn’t pay her. I asked if she knew Kaivalyadhana ashram. She said she didn’t, but that there were plenty of ashrams in town that had nice treatment centers that didn’t cost as much. I asked if she thought I made a mistake in coming with the doctor. She swore me to secrecy and told me she thought I had made a mistake. This was all I needed to hear. I started to pack my bags. At that moment, the doctor called and asked how I was doing. I told her I was leaving because I was cold and wanted to go to Kaivalyadhana. She said she was coming right away. So, I waited and told her very calmly that I wasn’t comfortable there and that I was freezing. She asked what happened while she was gone and I said I had a massage and I was freezing. She said that there wasn’t a flight until the evening and she could take me to the ashram for me to meditate on this decision a little bit more. This freaked me out even more b/c of the organ music, the spooky pictures all over the place and the general fear I had that this woman came to me in my sleep and this doctor was a huge devotee of a cult I wanted nothing to do with. Plus, I thought, she was dishonest. So, I told her I was leaving right then. I offered her 1000 rupees. She refused. I insisted. She asked that I put it before ‘the Mother’ on the alter. I scoffed inwardly and lay the bill in front of the picture. The doctor started crying as I descended the staircase and I apologized. I left.

The assistant took me to the airport. Sure enough, there wasn’t a flight until that evening and there was no other way to get to Kaivalyadhana. So, I waited in the lounge for an hour for the airport to open. I decided I would just go to Thailand and check into Health Oasis Resort on the beach for an expensive, but very nice, nine day deluxe cleanse with massages and enemas and treatments every day with a good diet and WARM facilities. I asked the security guards (with full rifles loaded and ready to shoot) how to get to an internet cafe. The were very kind and called a rickshaw for me, negotiated the price, and told him how to get to the cafe.

As I was writing the confirming e-mail to Health Oasis to reserve a space for me, the doctor appeared. The security guards at the airport told her where I was. She said she had been too distressed earlier to give this to me and presented a perfect diamond nose ring. She helped me put it in my nose and I asked her how much. “Later,” she said. She then went on a long discussion of how she really felt that she was supposed to teach me and wanted to know why I suddenly left like that. She said Kaivalyadhana is also cold b/c it’s a hill station. I told her I was going to Thailand. I told her I wanted water. She said she was planning on taking me to the River for sunrise one morning and she had worked out my entire treatment plan. I told her the massage and steam were awful. She said she personally would do everything for me the remainder of the week. She said she’d told the assistant to cover me and that she had a massage table for me. I told her that I didn’t respect her gurus and didn’t feel right taking their teachings through her. She said her teachings came from her father and yoga and life and I need not revere Sri Aurobindo or ‘The Mother.’ I told her I hate that organ music, it scares me – she said she wouldn’t play it again. I told her I had nightmares in the bedroom and she said I could share the other bedroom with her instead of sleeping in her husband’s bedroom. In honesty, her room was cozy and had two beds – it looked very warm. She then said she had an entire treatment plan laid out for me and already bought all the oils and items needed for it. I told her I’d pay her for the items. She then looked me straight in the eyes and said “please don’t leave, I really want to share these things with you – it’s not just treatments that I’m giving you – I’m giving you divine blessings as I do it – with intention and yoga.’ ‘Other practitioners can’t do this for you – it’s important when you receive these treatments to have a practitioner with the right intention.’ ‘I know that I am supposed to teach you. I have the right intention. I am sorry that I left you. It won’t happen again.’ She then showed me that she’d registered us for a conference on consciousness and hypnotherapy from an east and western perspective. Rinpoche was there from Tibet and other people from England, Israel, India and Germany. The program looked pretty good. She also told me more about her life. She’d had two near death experiences and experienced the netherworld. There, she learned the value of life and experienced the connection with the universe. This, she said she wanted to teachme through pranayamas and yoga. She said that all bad external things come out during a cleanse and that this was what I was experiencing. She told me she cried for an hour during mother’s cell regeneration music. It’s part of the process she said. Again, she told me that we met in this life for a reason and that she felt I was a special person and needed to receive this information now. She told me I didn’t need to pay her, but just to be her student for one week. As I listened to her and looked at her, I decided that any woman who tried so hard should have a second chance. She seemed genuinely sincere. So, I agreed to go with her. I cancelled my ticket for 100 rupees.

Since then, I am glad that I made the decision that I did. Although the apartment is spartan, it is immaculate. She is not a crook, a cook, or dishonest. She and her husband, as well as hundreds of other people around the world (including those who live in Auroville – the idea of ‘The Mother’) also are devotees of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. She doesn’t fault me for not believing and instead we talk about the Hindu deities and she reveres me with stories of her experiences in the Himalayas, as well as her fathers that come straight out of ‘Autobiography of a Yogi.” She is the real yogini. If she lived in a mountain, she’d be a baba. Instead, she lives in this little place with her husband and they only had sex twice – to conceive their two children – and both are brahmans, devoted to the spiritual path through yoga, ayurveda and naturopathy.

So, this is real India. This is the real teacher. She has given me beautiful massages and many, many treatments that I would get in a spa. We have philosophized, meditated and chanted while meditating – you can actually feel vibrations coming within and without and connect to so many things outside and inside. I’ve learned many aspects of cleansing, yogic asanas, kriyas, breathing and aspects of the chakras, diet and the circulatory, respiratory and digestive systems. I’ve also learned a ton about my body. I learned I am kapha vata, not pitta vata. I learned my digestive system is lazy and my back is weak. The rigorous ashtanga practice I have been doing is physically straining on my back. I’m not physically strong enough for that yet and need to go back to the real yoga of aligning breath with smaller physical movements that don’t strain the body. I’m not sure I’m ready to accept that yet, but for this week, I will. She told me not to do headstands until my back is stronger and gave me many back exercises to strengthen my back. She’s given me many meditations to clear my stress from my system and to connect with my breath at any instant to avoid anxiety. I learned from the aftereffects of my enemas, that I have worms that are coming out of my system. Gross. She informed me my reproductive system is in perfect health. She has challenged me on every level – physical, mental, spiritual and even cosmicly and I am grateful for it. Yet, still there’s a piece of me that is skeptical and looking forward to leaving as well as looking forward to the end of each exercise that we do. I wonder as I watch myself how I can be so fascinated with ayurveda and yoga and realize the wonders that it can do for people’s health, and at the same time, feel relieved that this one on one bootcamp of all of this has breaks and will come to an end. Am I lazy? Ungrateful? I asked the universe to give me a cleanse, some yogic knowledge, I wanted to learn about Ayurveda and here is the teacher – presented in a 100% Indian way – and I am looking forward to leaving, yet at the same time, looking forward to someday perhaps coming back and learning more from this woman.

She is truly a baba. When we do exercises, she can tell what parts of my body I can’t feel without me telling her. She has read my mind several times. She stopped playing the creepy music, but did take me to the ashram once and we meditated there. It was nice. I said I didn’t want to go the next night and she was fine with that. She’s told me stories of healing she’s done of people that are deaf and dumb, with diabetes and arthritis. When we were at the consciousness conference, many people greeted her with respect and told their colleagues “this is a truly enlightened lady” and others thanked her for the treatment. She told me the king of Gujarat’s mother wants to give her some land to open a holistic center or an ashram for her, but that she wants her freedom. She prefers to help people one on one. Her friends in Brazil have also invited her to stay for an indefinite period of time. She is, indeed, the real deal. What a weird and wacky way to experience such a person.

Our activities are culturally fun, too. She’s taught me vedic songs and chants and even some Gujarati dancing. We saw a Gujarati dance performance, went to another ashram of Ramakrishna and even went to the nicest naturopathic center in town (where she trained for three years). This is what I would’ve received at Kaivalyadhana – it is beautiful, but filled with Indians and the treatment center is equally cold, but all facilities are side by side and you can hear them talking all the while. Indians go there for weeks to recover from illnesses and one masseus has eight patients in one day. I am certainly receiving much more specialized treatment from the doctor. One day, I spent lunch watching cricket players. On their break, they invited me to stay the whole time – they were very friendly and taught me a bit about cricket. I find it very boring, to tell the truth. But, it was nice to see a new game, anyway...

So, here I am, alone in the apartment b/c she had to go to work for some hours. But, she gave me homework, which I finished. Now she is back and we’re going to do another shirodhara. She just told me, that if I want to do a cleanse at home, this is what you do day by day (this is just her passing through the room and as usual spilling knowledge out like water from a faucet): First day, only light food and fruit. Second: fruit and soup, Third and Fourth: warm water only, Fifth: soup and fruit, Sixth: some light cooked food and seventh day normal food. Take one or two enemas to cleanse, or just one to cleanse.
She says “you are your doctor.” Trust your own body, listen to your body, love your body.

I do love my body now. I have cleansed unbelievably through the bowels and nose and mouth and ears (even) and my mind is beginning to become uncluttered. When I breathe, I feel heat through every channel and even my toes are warm. I’ve learned that yoga is soooo much more than asanas, but this time I’ve experienced these lessons, rather than hearing them. This is teaching of true yoga. Plus, I now weigh 136 pounds and look radiant in my skin. I look very young and have lots of energy. Mostly, I’m positive.

Yet, the skepticism remains. The fear about going home and starting on the right path troubles me. Yet, she told me to breath in strength, courage, confidence, consciousness and breathe out fear, weakness and competitiveness. This, I do on a daily basis. But, this life is a trying one. Then again, I spend all day receiving treatments from my personal teacher/doctor/yogini. This is as easy as it gets...right? It will be very, very nice to combine these teachings with the ease and beauty of home that I miss so much.
(Updated Jan. 17, 2009)
My last day in Gujarat, I had a morning "cleanse," per usual. Then the doctor gave me a shirodarah (third eye with oil) massage and we did some more breathing excercises. I was given three juices and some fruit - which was heaven to eat! She gave me a hair treatment that I thought was a conditions with clay and mud. Turns out it also had tons of henna, so my hair is now red! I like it, but it was a surprise - gone is the blonde - now it looks healthy and golden red with brown undertones. A nice surprise! I also had my final enema and even more toxic sludge emerged from my bowels. My stomach is now flat and soft and feels so clean and light. I love it. During the shirodarah massage, a message came to me that my sister MUST come to this doctor to regenerate and renew her frazzled life. I asked the doctor about it and I am it is possible for her to be treated in the far more comfy surroundings of Pondicherry. I wrote my sister an e-mail immediately proposing the idea. I was thrilled beyond measure that she consented to it. If there is anything in this world of treatments and program to detoxify, i.e. remove the toxins of this life, no matter how easy or hard, I firmly believe that this doctor - who combines yogic knowledge straight out of "Autobiography of a Yogi" and ayurvedic/naturopathic experience with a heightened sense of spiritual grace - is the one to do it. I have not one iota of doubt. So, I'm pretty certain that I will return to India with my sister and perhaps her child and there we shall spend at least one month cleansing and loving what the universe has given us. Regaining our light, recapturing our power. My sister raised me like a mother. Now, there is no one to look after her. It's my turn to give back and it feels very clear, very right and very good. I love her. I love this life!
Anyway, after my system cleared, the doctor took me across town to a kite flying festival. The high rise buildings were teeming with people flying kites off the top of them for as far as the eye could see. Set amidst these high rises was a giant statue of Shiva with his trident and the minarets, cupolas and spires of muslim mosques and hindu temples. Every rooftop was blasting different music and the people were writing to the music while flying kites in the sky and slashing eachothers kites with glass blades on the strings. The electrical wires and trees and everything in between was littered with lost kites. The sky was filled with dancing rainbows of kites going all directions. As night fell, the sky was covered in even more color - huge firework displays outdoing the fourth of july in america with their height, color, diversity and sheer numerosity - it seemed like every third rooftop in the panoramic realm was doing their own fireworks show. Amidst the swirling kites, exploding lights and blasting music filtering through the air, people lit little air balloon types things with large flames as they slowly ascended to the sky releasing people's prayers. In true Indian style, at times, the wind would blow the balloon a bit to the side and the entire balloon would catch on fire and cascade in a burning mass below. Mothers with little babies would gently swoosh rooftop celebrants aside and let the chaotic embers blow past them.
Once again - the flow in the chaos for which I so love India. An older man asked me what I liked most about India: "the wisdom," I said. I truly appreciate this wisdom, this celebration, this spirit of the Indian people. It's an inspiration and it goes straight to my heart every time. I love India...
The whole event was such a celebration! I ate sweet after sweet after homemade Indian dish after homemade Indian dish. Of course, this was the first time I could eat, so my stomach was full and in pain within a very short period of time. I simply stopped eating and tried not to jump with glee at the excitement I felt coursing through my entire, very, very clean and light body. I didn't realize how very sensitive I was to everything. All of this, ALL of it, was so celebratory - it was like Christmas as a young child - and I just had to cry at the beauty of all of this. I was so grateful that Dr. Geeta and I found eachother, that I stuck with her, that I did this cleanse, that I finally, finally, finally really deeply experienced ALL aspects of yoga and the light that comes through your body when you stick with a disciplined regime. This was the perfect celebration of light and love and the greatness of all things India on this rooftop. It couldn't have been more perfect. As we drove home on her motorbike and were nearly careened into five zillion times, I floated, smiling and unfazed. Just so very, very, very at peace with myself. So very, very in love with India. And so very, very grateful to be me in this life just now. Namaste.
That evening, the doctor reminded me that I am my own doctor. I know my own body best. She told me, "you want more rigorous asanas, I know - so just experiment with what I taught you and blend it with what feels right for you. Find your own path. I know we will meet again. You will study more with me." I have no doubt. My sister, too, will feel the light of these teachings. Life is good.
So, the next morning, we had a tearful farewell at the airport and I arrived in Mumbai and walked into the parking lot just outside the airport to find my Bollywood friend that I met in Rajastan dancing around the fire in the desert with gypsies. Sure enough, I walked right into Asif Basra. His mouth dropped when he saw me. "Wow, you look so...different...there's this radiance about you, this light, it's like what Bollywood film stars have..." he said. I felt exactly that way. Exactly. So, on I hopped to his Royal Enfield and we sped through the madness of Mumbai - from the slums to the elegant city center replete with English architecture and stone roundabouts with lovely sculptured fountains - and straight to the fishing harbor. There, we hopped onto a local ferry after having my last parotha in India (and a chai, of course) and they moved his bike on to the boat with manpower and a single wooden plank. We were cooled by the breeze as we glided for 1.5 hours on the Arabian Sea to the north and discussed his idea for a television show in which he travels on his motorbike through India and explores the multifarious cultural talent. It was lovely to see him, effortless to talk to him, and quite scintillating b/c he was wearing a hat and glasses as not to be harangued by people. His fame is increasing - being with a western woman is borderline tabloid gossip, you see... When we got off, we hopped on the bike and rode through clean, fresh green countrysides bordered by palm trees and banyan trees with hanging roots of wood. We passed through small villages with school children and vegetable markets. It was peaceful and rural and very refreshing. We arrived at a place with two cottages only 10 feet from the sea. It was lovely and only 750 rupees per bungalow - that's about $14 USD. They agreed to cook us a local dinner of seafood. The place was perfect. We dropped our bags and proceeded 20 kms along the coast to a beautiful beach where I indulged in my favorite dish of channa masala and nan bread. He had a fish thali. Both were very inexpensive, but the view and the freedom was worth over $1 million USD. We sat overlooking this beach that went on forever and discussed the choices we've made in life. Both of us have gotten off the train of convention and chosen a life of exploration and freedom. As a result, here we were having a "million dollar lunch" - one, neither of us will ever forget.
We then went to another beach and Asif had a jog while I meditated into the sunset and sang and thanked Mother India for all of her love and gifts and graciousness and lessons. I cried. I sang. And then Asif and I met up again, went home, relaxed under the stars in the hammock and laughed and talked and laughed and talked through our yummy local dinner. He is an elegant, entertaining and charming companion. It was a sweet and beautiful day, a sweet and beautiful evening. It was in every way...perfect. The next morning, we enjoyed the beach air some more and after another local meal, we headed back to Mumbai. We lunched at Leopolds and he showed me the Taj and Chowpatty Beach on the way to the airport. The sun was setting behind a mosque in the middle of the water on which you're supposed to make a wish upon viewing. I wished for my sister to be cleansed by Dr. Geeta and for my own peace and ease in transition back home. I wished for Asif to have a peaceful life and again I shed a tear as I thanked and sang a song to beautiful, beautiful India for everything.
I arrived in India with a charming 25 year old English actor on the back of a 350cc Royal Enfield. And I departed India with a slightly older and more charming Bollywood actor on the back of a 350cc Royal Enfield. I cried both times. But, this time, it was full circle. India has loved me and I have loved it. I will always love this country.
Now, I sit in Bangkok. It's clean and organized and I'm not too interested in roaming about. I'm just very excited to go home and see my friends, family and the ocean. Yet, I can't help but feel the light of the cleanse, the light of India, the light of all the love I experienced and felt with my fellow travellers, fellow Indians, fellow experiences, and everything. I am so lucky. As Alex said when he dropped me off in India, "India will take care of you, and then you'll take care of India." The former is true and I don't question that I'll return someday to make the latter true as well. A connection has been made. Venus shined at me from the sky that last evening in India, just as it will back home. It is all connected. This universe is Divine. Dhanyuvad (thank you), dhanyuvad, dhanyuvad!
I love you, India.