Rishikesh, aka Yoganagari, the ancient city of Indian rishis (wise yogi scientists) from the foothills of the Garwhal District, known as the Gateway to the Himalayas, Yoga Capital of the world, the place where the Beatles studied transcendental meditation for 3 months in Maharishi Mahesh Yogi ashram in ’68, also visited by Steve Jobs during his Indian excursions. The city is a legend.
Juna Akhara is an ancient society started by first Guru Adi Shankaracharya, circa 700 CE, now comprising some half a million saddhus who gather periodically at Kumbh Mela. I got to know all this during the three months of lockdown, while I’ve been playing the role of white naga warrior living under Sanatan Dharma, or Vedic Divine Law. Om Namo Narayan! Call me Dycha Puri from now on.
The corona madness started in earnest in mid-March while I was in Varanasi, the eternal city of Shiva, Lord of Death and Rebirth, of Enlightenment, Truth and Power, and Varanasi took me under Its guidance and protection.The running joke was that Manikarnika burns Corona. Indeed, how many wars and plagues passed over this Mother Earth in the past eternity since Manikarnika has been continuously burning the ‘victims’? Of course, this is holy fire and whoever cremates their body in Varanasi acquires automatic Moksha, the Hindu concept for the liberation of the soul from the samsaric cycle of birth and death. Immortality.
Down in the underground Kali altar the two Aghoris, naked and covered in thick grey ash, guard the eternal fire.
Kashi, the ancient settlement, is a geographical mandala and thus a generator of energy. The illusory veil between life and death is very thin there. The tilak on the forehead, three horizontal stripes of vibhuti (holy ash), represents our primary tendencies striked through by the orange fire of self-knowledge, Adi Yogi aka Shiva.
When I arrived in Rishikesh I was still high on Varanasi and bhang (a powerfully intoxicating marijuana-based holy product available legally in ‘government shops’) and went to Tapovan, in the area with all the ashrams and the babas living in the jungle in ‘small kutias’ by Ganga Ji river. I was looking for Vishwa Chetan ashram about which I knew from a young Brahmin friend from Varanasi – God bless your soul, Rahul Pandey. Yours is the coolest ghat in all of Kashi. Generally ashrams should accept seekers (shishyas) for free. The guest is required to become as fluid as possible with ashram dharma style and rules and take active part in ashram-related ‘seva’ (work).
I don’t know why everything has gone so smoothly, why all people have been so helpful, fair and friendly – some call it luck, ojas, chi, Jah, here it is called Sanathan Dharma. The ashram has 6 finished rooms, perfectly sized and beautifully basic, and 4 of them were free. During the months I lived there there we were 7 permanent residents and as many as 20-25 people. That first week marked the start date of Maa Durga 10 days festival, the first major Indian festival to be observed through quarantine. Navaratri.
As expected, life was full power for everyone, including Sandeep Puri Baba Ji, a 37 years old naga baba who spent the year 2018 standing, literally, 13 months of non-stop standing on his feet, sometimes using a ledger to lean on when deep sleep was required, otherwise he would sleep standing. Blood, puss and gas came out of his legs and whole body during this time. This is tapas, this is hatha yoga.
Now he found himself the Sannyasi master priest of an Indian-Russian ashram with a dark secret, an absent Guru Ji and a bunch of pennyless, mad and often lazy stoners as disciples and helpers. So I got the divine opportunity to be of Great Use. I dedicated my self to Sanathan Dharma. We helped the birth of a small bull, Nandi Shambho, which brought the ashram herd up to 7 cows which I have been cleaning, feeding and tending to regularly during these months. That was one of my full times jobs around the ashram. We saved the life of one cow who had maggots in her young legs, too disgusting for anyone else to touch. One small puppy died and Kalu the Dog has been under intense training which slowly made him a pivotal member of the Community.
One night a drunk middle aged French Punker came on a flashy Bullet bike and started making a scene, so one of the cool senior Babas beat him with a bamboo stick on his way out, in the dark jungle. A Russian living with us has gone walking outside of curfew hours and the police bamboo-massaged the shit out of him, so he came back with a freakishly swollen arm. After a few days he was off to Delhi and on one of those ‘evacuation flights’. Many went like this. Bamboo-massage is a nickname and an euphemism for police who, like the Babas, use bamboo sticks for beating naughty citizens and non-citizens. The police is allowed to beat you with sticks here, yes, and the majority of the population, including my babas and friends, more or less agree with this. There have been daily police and doctor checks and the occasional bamboo fights between various restless souls. I forgot my debit card in a cash machine on the mad evening just before everything got shut down, when everyone was out in the streets, agitated, hiding from Corona virus by running here and there. It was Pokemon Go for adults, in Real real life. Thus I lost my only source of income. Eventually a PayPal connection was established, which is keeping me supplied with cash but until this happened, for almost one month, I survived with 100 euros, about 7000 Indian rupees. Considering this is Corona times, everyone told me to ‘go back home’ like the majority of the foreigners did. European friends had a similar opinion, that I should return to some imaginary European ‘safe haven’. I didn’t even consider the option of premature departure. The mad naga babas living in caves and tents nearby the ashram, whom I kept illegally visiting throughout lockdown, agreed with me fully.
The ashram schedule is more or less the same every day :
Wake up in open roof room at 5 and at 5.30 take Ganga Ji sunrise bath, alone in the Universe, and practice sadhana. Around 7.30, after showers, aarti and brief morning ashram cleaning have all taken place (in this order), gather for chai and chillum. The morning air is fresh and there is a constant natural orchestra coming from the birds, the animals, the people and Ganga Ji. Morning chai is of less quantity, brewed using more ginger and more milk, full power wake up chai. Every time of the day has a different vibe, this is akoka doka in action, maya slowly shifting shape, smell, sound, texture, temperature and colour. The members of Juna Akhara are saddhu warriors who keep the Vedic tradition, or law, or dharma, Alive. Learning all these rules of sattvic living is much of what ashram academy is about, an unspoken initiation into the Naga Army. By the time morning chai is brewed few more people, babas and local Indians, gather around as it usually happens when chai is made – the smashing of ginger in the metal mortar and pestle is the alarm bell. The day can begin. Aum Namah Shivaya.
After morning chillum and chai ceremony, different activities take place. Ganga bath, or seva such as cleaning the ashram and the cow area, washing clothes or animals, going into town for food or for meeting babas, saddhus, friends, or secretly entering temples for quick, silent poojas. There is a rock in the middle of Ganga where I sometimes swim with the local boys, we climb it and then we jump from it. Lunch is eaten in the ashram around 1pm, or fruit and chapati. Surya (sun) is very hot, around 35 degrees Celsius and activity is impossible during the day. Around 5pm, atmosphere normalises. Again we gather for evening chillum and chai, with milk just taken from the ashram cows, still warm and frothing. The activities of the day are discussed, the state of Hindustan and the Corona developments. Banu Ji local policeman visits and shares developments in his lisping, stuttered English. When he stutters, everyone freezes, because Banu Ji is respected and his flaws are therefore shameful. Dinner follows, around 9pm, after evening aarti. Last rites and sleep by 11pm.
At the beginning, I lived in one of the rooms. As time went on and I got more and more involved with the babas, I moved first into the common room and then in one of the unfinished rooms upstairs, where I sleep in the open, with Kalu the dog, monkeys, langoors, butterflies and birds and the constant hum of grasshoppers and Ganga Ji. Adivasi style – Adivasi are a type of wild humans living off the Universe, free, in the jungle. During the last days of May things have intensified at the ashram, lockdown has relaxed considerably in this ‘corona green’ part of India and other naga babas, also Gypsies and Shastris (travelling yogis, tantrics, astrologers), have started showing up. Time to leave and continue the journey towards Kedarnath, Sanatan Dharma whispers.
I left on the 9th of June for Kaya Kalp Peeth ashram – it took more than 24 hours to travel 150 kms or something like that. That’s another story, karma dharma continues. Pilot Baba, Jai Ho!
Leave a Reply