"pilgrim-chicodra" Archive
Let's Get on With the Show
"We use mosquito nets because at night, unconsciously, we might injure them," he says. It takes a moment for that statement to hit you. Most people use mosquito nets to protect themselves, not the mosquitoes!
But of course, this is a wandering Jain monk who doesn't use fans, electricity, or chairs and has spent 34 of his 42 year life walking from one place to another.
It's rather random that I'm in front of him, asking shameless questions, especially when there's a Wednesday night meditation going on with 30-35 people. But such were the circumstances, the night before I am about to take off on the boldest pilgrimage of my life.
"What have you gained by walking?" I ask him, with his disciples seated around him in the moonlit light. "Walking is a very humble activity, that allows you to connect with the most common man. And when you walk with full trust in the universe, you learn to accept everything that comes. Good or bad, you see it all as karma," the monk said.
"Your disciple tells me that you got hit by a truck while walking, many years ago. What went through your mind at that time?" I press him to relate theory to his personal life.
"Prior to the accident, I had a feeling something bad was going to happen but you don't know how it will manifest. So I was ready to take whatever came. When I was hit by the truck, I was unconscious for six hours. After I woke up, they told me that they have the driver who hit me and I immediately told 'em to let him go. He made a mistake. It's ok. This was my pending karma," he said in a very matter of fact way.
Touched by his be-the-change life, I ask him: "So really, we should all just walk out on the streets right now. Sooner or later, if we have to face our karma, why waste time rotating in maya? Let's just get on with the show, right now." He smiles and adds, "Yes."
by Nipun Mehta on Mar 30 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Known to the Unknown, Day 1
It's our first day on the pilgrimage. As we leave the Gandhi Ashram at 6AM, Guri and I share repeated looks: "This feels so right." Seven years ago, neither of us could've guessed that we'll get married, leave everything, and walk with a simple back-pack on us, smilingly heading into the unknown in search of the "good".
But here it is, right here, right now.
Today, our plan is to walk 22 kilometers to a small village outside Ahmedabad. We plan to sleep outside if no one hosts us, use water from temples and other public outlets, budget dollar a day for any other expenses including food, meditate two hours, reflect for another hour, and connect with the "good" in all life. Next couple days are more of the same (universe willing) till we get to Dr. Doshi's in Chicodra.
It's a humble (and slightly scary :)) journey, a walk from the known to the unknown.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Mar 31 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Two Potters of Bareja
"To: Bareja, Ghansyhambhai, near Rameshwar temple". "No, no, no, just write Kheda Taluka." "Ok, give the number of your friend in Narol." "Ok, ok, To: Bareja ..." After about five minutes of group brainstorm, the family comes up with a mailing address. It is obvious that they have never received mail before.
On the second day of our walk, we pass a series of potters. Guri stops to say hello and the next door neighbors call us to see if we need water. "No, but thank you," Guri responds with a smile. "How 'bout some tea? Can we give you some tea?" It's hard to tell if they can afford the milk for tea but it's not so hard to see their enthusiasm; I hesistantly blurt, "Not for me, but my wife is big tea fan, so she'll have some." (Incidentally, it was Guri's tea time anyhow. :))
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 1 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Profile: Govardhan "Ironman" Patel
On March 13, 1934, second day of the infamous Dandi Yatra, Mahatma Gandhi stopped at Navaagaam. A prayer hall was organized for him, but when the clock hit 6PM Gandhi was still on the fields; so he halted everything and did his prayers right there on the farm. Fourteen year old Govardhan happened to be there with him. Later that night, Gandhi gave a talk at a public gathering and Govardhan was there as well.
"I used to be a pure Brahmin type: do your prayers every morning, don't touch the untouchables and what not. I even thought that English people were superior somehow. But then I heard Gandhi-ji speak," 90-year-old Govardhan recalls. "He talked about freedom, not fearing the English prisons, and so on but I think something about his face just transformed me. I decided right then that I was going to serve others."
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 1 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Visnu in Vasna
Our plan is to walk 26 kilometers to Matar. After spending the afternoon in Navagaam, we are confident of journeying the remaining 10 kilometers before dusk and sleeping at the Balavdhut Ashram there. Instead it's 7:30PM, we are well past 10 kilometers and we don't even know we have taken the "long cut".
"How far to Matar, bhaiya?" "Just keep walking straight down, it's another 4 kilometers." And then couple of the youngsters form a little circle and start talking: "Well, you have to cross the river with knee deep water and there's all these 'waghris' on the other side, who will bother them for sure. We'll have to send someone with them, if they really want to go."
Alright, it's not safe. But once again, no plan B. And no one is offering to take us safely to the other shore. What to do? Just keep walking. The other complication: we are hungry! While talking about fear and uncertainty on the way, Guri and I got pumped-up and decided that no matter what, we will not ask for (or buy) any food tonight. We won't even have any Parle-G's in our bag. If we get an offering, good; otherwise, tough luck ... err karma. Just keep walking.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Apr 3 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Profile: Prahlad Dada
"My parents weren't upset at me, though," 81-year-old 'Dada' laughs heartily as he recalls his childhood. "They were very spiritual themselves and in a way, they understood this intense desire to find something greater than the self."
About an hour ago, as Guri and I were entering the small town of Matar through the barren river-side road, we speak of Sri Aurobindo. Almost within ten seconds, we read a board on our right -- "Auro Center". Compelled by serendipity, we cross the front gate to find the main office.
It is not only silent, but very peaceful.
An old man, dressed in all white, slowly walks down the stairs and greets us with a radiant toothless smile, "Welcome." After a minute of hello-ing, Dada tells us that this ashram is taken care of by Mother and he points to a picture above him. "She has never let me down," he says only to be stopped by tears in his eyes.
Seeing an 81-year-old man cry, I tear up myself. In the presence of his pure devotion, I think to myself: "Whoever this stranger is, I would feel privileged to be of service to him." Not knowing how, I make something up: "Dada, I would like to profile you. But, really Dada, it's just an excuse to be at your feet and learn. Can I ask you about your life?"
Dada cracks up. "If you want to know about me, no need to ask; just watch my actions for two days and you'll know all you need to know." True to his grandfatherly fashion, though, he happily fields our questions. And practically knocks us out with his responses!
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 4 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
A Melodic Blessing
Suresh Parekh started playing flute at the age of 5. Five years ago, at the age of 69, he decided to only play for 'God'. No more public engagement, paid or unpaid. "Nipun, today I have given you one lakh rupees worth of time," he said of our storytelling session during his afternoon nap time. After he played his magical flute for the three of us that evening, I joked: "Now, I have taken five lakhs worth of prasad from you."
As we were leaving, he opens his bag and give us a tiny booklet: "I have done sadhna with this for years. It is the Bhagvad Geeta in Gujarati. If you are ever in need, open this up to a random page and it will guide you. In this small book, you will have the blessings of my years of sadhna."
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 5 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Quenching Our Thirst
Day before yesterday, we walked 40 kilometers with almost full water bottles. Today, we are on kilometer 20 of 30, and no water in sight.
At the next big junction, I look to the left for water but here a voice from behind me. "Come, come, I'll get you some water." Guri and I turn around and see an old lady motioning us to head towards her.
"Hang on, I'll go get you some cold water. She goes in the back of a tea stall and comes out with a broken-rim, mud pot. As two tired pilgrims on a hot day, we sat on the ground holding our bottles as she hunched her back and poured it from a bronze container. It is indeed cold water.
"Where are you headed?" she inquires. "Petlad," I say in brief, trying to conserve my energy. "Pilgrimage?" "Yeah, pad-yatra." "Where are you coming from?" "Nadiad; but originally from Ahmedabad." "Memdavad?" "No, Ahmedabad." "Oh, Memdavad." "No, no, Ahmedabad. We've walked about 130 kilometers to get here."
A man behind the scene, with a big U-like tilak on his forehead, comes out and casually says: "As soon as you say what you're doing, it's over." Sensing a profound comment, I look to him to confirm my hypothesis. While frying something in a pan, he repeats himself, "As soon as you say what you're doing, it's over." He was telling me to be selfless. Wow.
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 6 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Churn and Burn
The back-pack on my shoulders feels really heavy, my kurta is drenched with sweat, the mosquito bites on my feet pale in comparision to the peeling skin and aching joints, my calves are about to give in completely. This is kilometer number 24, in the noon heat, and the bandana on my head isn't helping much. But most of all, uncertainty hurts most. We don't know where we will eat lunch, let alone where we will spend the night. Just the thought of sleeping under some tree somewhere in this condition is tiring.
And you have to be constantly vigilant. One unaware move and you can get in deep trouble, through these remote terrains.
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 6 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Haircut on the House
"Kaka, where is the nearest barber?" I ask, rubbing my fingers across the three week old beard. "Oh, right there, on the other side of the street," he responds.
We cross the street, wait a bit, and then have the barber go at it. "Just have a seat right there, and rest your head here," the barber says. As I assume my position, I'm sitting right smack in front of a photo of Shirdi Sai Baba. "Yeah, just make my beard look like his," I joke but he takes me seriously. ;)
Instead of the typical Bollywood music, the barber is playing some spiritual music through an old tape player. At that particular moment, the words went a little like this: "I came with nothing and I will go with nothing." Hmmmm. Inspired, I make a bet with the universe: "Dear whoever you are, am I playing games with myself? If you can hear the prayer in my heart, make this hair cut for free."
I know it's silly, but hey, pilgrimages are short, play hard. :)
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Apr 7 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
The Path Under My Feet
If there is frequently asked question, it is this: why walk?
Two, to experience moments not events. Instead of pressing on the accelator, yield to the cows and admire their grace; instead of being an absent minded consumer, greet the vegetable vendors as fellow pilgrims of life; instead of ignoring the stare of kids, smile at the little ones who have never seen grown-ups with back-packs; instead of ignoring poverty or shelling out a rupee of guilt, connect with the source of that poverty within you. An uninterrupted, commercial-free play with nature; it is you and your consciousness together at last.
Three, to deepen your awareness. Witness that you are not separate from your pain or the celestial hues of sunlight that cross the fields at sunrise. Learn how nature works with abundance, without any need for accumulation; the crows skip with two feet, the camels bob around without moving their heads, the monkeys stare as if it's a new show each time. Need, not greed. Understand the simplicity of cause and effect. You serve, you get served. No images, no theories, no complications. Just instant karma. When you put it all on the line, there is no choice but to go deeper.
Yet, walking is painful. Your feet hurt, your body aches at the thought of not knowing if you will have lunch, the bag on your back feels heavier than it is, the soles of your feet are hot even with your sandals on. You are frustrated but don't know the source of your frustration. You miss the comforts of home, or even a plain ol' city. Everyday, you start from scratch. Every person is a new encounter. No business cards, no glory from the past to rescue you. This is you and your mind, facing off. There is no victory, no defeat; and ultimately, there is no reason left to even do this.
Then you breathe. You take another step. One foot rests while the other moves forward. Then you breathe a real breath.
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 9 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Running into Nadiad's Pope
Walking into a huge beautiful temple, after 28 kilometers of walking, I semi-walk into a room, and notice the back of a chair with two elbows on the side. We walk around and walk in, to find the Pope-like figure of this temple -- Santram Maharaj -- who happened to be accepting audiences at that time.
Not knowing any protocols, we walk in. Within a minute, he calls us to the front and almost immediately says: "Know Thyself. If there is one thing you remember from me, it is that. Can you sit cross legged?", he asks me pointedly. "Yes," I say. "Then you meditate," he tells me. A totally off-the-wall statement from a guy with a huge temple, where people think God is in the idols.
But first he sent us off to lunch. Then, during a random conversation, per Guri's nudging, I ask to interview him. He agrees, surprising all around him. I bust out my laptop and he asks me to put it on the short stool where he generally places his feet (and which is considered holy by his devotees). Everyone cracks up.
The half an hour interview flows effortlessly. Instead of us asking him for more time, he would look at us jokingly and say, "Ok, go ahead, one more question." And we laid it all on him, including "If you want us to know thyself, why entertain these huge temples with idol worship?" and "What makes you smile?".
Santram Mandir has a fascinating history, millions of devotees across all faiths, and crores of rupees dedicated to service of mankind. Ramdass Maharaj is the 8th successor of the seat, and till his death, he will not leave the temple premises. To see him, you have to come there.
Twenty years ago, my grandma had brought me here once. And today, Guri and I are back. Funny business. Both of us instantly felt that he was the "real deal". Just as we did when we came in, we ran into him on the way out: I folded my hands together, with my shoes hanging from the side, and did a semi-bow. From a distance, he smiled and so did I.
[ Read the full Q&A (transcribed from a taped interview) ]
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 18 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
500 Rupees From a Monk!
They say it's hard to find him, but we walk right in. In fact, we had put 35 kilometers on the line for it. Fortunately, he is rocking on his swing as we walk in. After a minute of introduction, he signals one of the bookkeepers: "Go bring them 500 Rupees. They will need it on the way."
A renounced Swami giving us 500 Rupees?!? Gee whiz.
Perhaps it was because he could relate -- at 21, he left everything searching for "enlightenment" and stayed an entire year while walking across India. Today, at 65, he was a fearless speaker on many things, author of over 50 books, and a revolutionary who has roamed more than 70 countries.
He didn't want us to leave the ashram, but when we were about to leave, he asked us again: "Take 500 Rupees. You will need it." We bowed silently and said, "Thank you, but all we need at this time are your blessings." He smiled as we parted ways.
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 18 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
A Fellow Pilgrim With a Bidi
I turn around to see smoke coming out of a random building, along the highway. From a cot inside, I see a hand waving at us. Another look and it's an orange-robed man calling us in.
The whole scene looked a little sketchy, to be honest. Plus, we had to cover 48 kilometers today! Not quite the best day to make such random stops, but hey, if we wanted to make "best decisions" we would be in the US pulling cushy salaries.
We walk in.
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 18 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'
Temple on the Highway
Perhaps it is because we are off the beaten path, or perhaps it is for some other reason we aren't conscious of, but we keep running into absolutely sincere cultivators of truth. Saint Harisevakdass is one such example.
After being raised by wandering monks, he did deep meditations for many years. Eventually, he felt like he wanted to serve the entire world. He sat under a tree in the middle of nowhere. Today, there's a temple around him that manages to bring deep smiles to all passerby's like Guri and myself.
[ Read about Harisevakdass's iJourney ]
by Nipun Mehta on Apr 18 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-chicodra'