"pilgrim-mumbai" Archive
Full Moon Fast
It was a silly game. With a few kilometers left to our destination, I turn to Veena and Guri and say, "Ok, the milestone will read how many kilometers to Dharampur?" Guri says 6, Veena says 5, and I go with 4. "Alright, if you win, which saint are you going to send a shout out to?" I ask, pretending to be a DJ on hip-hop station.
"I'm going with Shirdi Sai Baba," Veena says since Guri had just shared his life story over lunch. Guri thinks a bit and adds Kabir in the mix. To go out in the left field, I bring up my homie Nag-Mahashaya (a little known disciple of Ramakrishna).
We are walking. And walking. Then, I propagate the game in my mind, "What if I win? I can't just call on saints like that. Ok, if I win, I should fast for the day." But on the tail end of 80 kilometers in two days, with much food, I'm really hoping to lose.
Unfortunately, I win. At least according to me. :) But darn, I really don't want to fast so, after some mental squabbling, I happily give up on the idea. But it turns out that the universe had other plans on this full moon day.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 2 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Guava Uncle of Kantidara
"What are the inspirations in your life?" I ask him. "The sky because it is so infinite." After a pause, he smiles big with half a tear in his eye: "My mom. She gave me all my values." Then he concludes, "And the sea. It can take the burdens of everyone and still flow effortlessly."
"So do you have a spiritual teacher?" "Everything is my teacher, even an ant," he says. I test his answer, "Really. How is an ant your teacher?" Without hesitation, he says, "An ant carries more than twice its weight and yet it works collectively with its community."
Fifteen years ago, a twenty-something quit his city job and moved into a small village, in a hut without any electricity. He had no money, no agenda, and no idea of what to do. His plan was rather simple -- live a natural life amidst the poor. Today, if you go to that same hut, you will still find that same Kanti, unencumbered by the mundane baggage of life and steeped in the natural exuberance for life.
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by Nipun Mehta on Jun 2 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Carrying Your Own Thorns
Walking up the hills of Maharastra, I feel a prick in my right toe. Ouch. I can't seem to find the thorn, so I keep walking. In couple minutes, again, ouch. No thorn. A third time, it happened and this time, my toe was bleeding. Talk about some serious bad right toe karma!
It turns out there's a small but sharp thorn in my sandal.
Sometimes we suffer because we carry our own thorns.
by Nipun Mehta on Jun 4 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid?
A bunch of tribals call us into their home to give us water when they see our parched throats and empty water bottles. This is not just regular water; this is water that they walk several hilly kilometers for, between midnight and 2AM, when the water level in the wells are high. Yet, they insist on filling up our water bottles.
Such kindness can take your breath away.
It takes your breath away for two reasons: one, because it's such pure, unadulterated kindness and two, because it's unclear how long this tribal culture will actually survive.
The same, innocent villagers whose spirits are so wide open, are practically being suffocated by us educated, city folks.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 4 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
My First Bow
Today, I'm really tired.
I'm tired of walking without a destination. You never arrive. Every halt is a pit-stop to momentarily catch your breath. Then, back to the grind. Your mind has to rest in motion, through all its commotion. Finding peace in the middle of war is a daunting task, but there is no other option. You have to trudge along, pay off all your debts of greed that have been silently accrued in your mind. Where am I really going?
I'm tired of all the pain. The pain in your toes might go away after couple weeks but then you never anticipate the thorns, blisters or the bug bites. Spiritual teachings tell us that the pain in your left knee is impermanent, but they don't tell you that after your knee, it will be your back and after your back, your shoulder blades. There is no 'Beginner's Guide to Pilgrimage'. No one warned me that a pilgrimage is a natural walk through your own physical knots and mental tensions. There is no escape. How can I be still through it all?
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 5 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
No Doors, No Locks
There's a village in Maharastra where there are no doors, no locks. It's a tribal village, close to the holy city of Shirdi, named Shinapur.
People of Shinapur believe that if you steal, you will go blind. So no one steals, no one has doors, no one locks anything and no one is afraid of losing anything.
Ironically, the city goer who told me about Shinapur also shared another interesting opinion: "But, you know, the people of Shinapur are really backwards."
Perhaps backwards might be more forward than forwards. :)
by Nipun Mehta on Jun 7 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Four Motorcyles on Wilson Hill
Until recently, there was no electricity in the tribal town of Pindval. Although it gets 150 inches of rain every year, there is a water shortage in the hilly terrain. People are poor. And, there is absolutely no phone connection.
I'm sitting alone on top of a remote Pindval hill, after a long 4 kilometer uphill hike in the mid-afternoon heat. No people anywhere, just trees and mountains. Outside of the light cross wind ruffling the leaves, there is no other sound.
Then, all of a sudden, vroom-vroom's of multiple motorcycles breaks my period of silence. Four motorcyles, seven youngsters, and seven bandanas either around their necks or heads.
by Nipun Mehta on Jun 9 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Thousand Kilometers, One Conclusion
After a thousand kilometers of observing and serving on this pilgrimage, I've come to one conclusion: I can't help others.
In fact, it doesn't make any sense to help others.
The human heart will unfailingly respond to the ills of the world with compassion, but unfortunately, every solution will be incomplete until that human being has knowledge of the whole.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 11 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Q&A With Kanti Shah
A saint sees a devoted young man sitting in the back of the room. He calls him up and says, "Young man, let me read some Gandhi to you." The young man humbly gets up and sits at the feet of the saint. As the saint grabs a book, he says, "You should read this translation in Gujarati." The young man simply nods his head as the saint reads half-hour worth of excerpts from that book.
Of his biography, Vinoba said he couldn't have done a better job himself. JayPrakash Narayan said the same thing of his own biography that Kanti Shah wrote. Over the course of the last several decades, he has written more than 100 books that have been translated in dozens of languages.
To meet such an intellecutaly and spiritually grounded soul is indeed a privilege. Below is an edited interview with Kanti Shah:
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by Nipun Mehta on Jun 22 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Monsoon Meditation
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A casual stroll
Couple tears
A simple prayer:
Just then ... Monsoon's first rain
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by Nipun Mehta on Jun 22 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Ripening of a Mango
It was a joke. Or so we thought.
Sitting under a tree in the remote tribal hills of Northern Maharastra, I turn to Guri and randomly ask, "Ok, seriously, what if someone just came upto you and handed you mangoes? I mean just handed them to you, out of nowhere, without wanting anything in return. What would you do?"
Veena and Guri share a good laugh. I persist, "No, come on. What would you do?" Chewing on some thepla and jaggery that our previous host had packed for our journey through these barren lands, Guri mumbles, "If that happens, then you will cook for me for an entire month." More laughs.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 23 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
India's Favorite Spiritual Excuse
As we step into a home, our host -- friend of a previous host in another city -- immediately says, "You know, I don't understand this 'leaving everything' business. It's nonsensical, if you ask me."
Why, nice to meet you too. My first response is to strike back with my ego and put the guy back in his cage. But then you realize that you rely on the kindness of strangers for your survival, and very directly the man in front of me is hosting and feeding me tonight. Mustering up all my humility and compassion, I respond, "Yeah, such pilgrimages don't always make sense; but sometimes doing things out of your comfort zone gives you a new perspective on life. Do you have a spiritual path you follow?"
"Absolutely. I am Karma-Yogi. I believe in living in the world, and taking care of my duties and not running away from them," he says as if launching another scud missile. :)
Ah, the infamous "I-am-a-karma-yogi" line. India's favorite spiritual excuse. It used to be that you have to renounce the world to be spiritual, to realize "God", to be "enlightened". And then, thank God for Karma Yoga; now, I can be spiritual while staying in the world. I can indulge in mindless entertainment, I can hoard money, I can show off my power, I can fashionably drug myself up with intoxicants, but if I'm somehow providing for my family and reading the Bhagvad Geeta two times a week, then I'm a Karma-Yogi doing my duty in the world.
Um, not quite.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 25 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
An 80 Year Old Hand
Big, round flashes of light blind us for a moment. Loud, honking sounds zip past us. The howling, almost-monsoon wind pushes us from East to West.
Just then a faint plea reaches my ears: "Son, I can't see too well. Can you hold my hand?"
It is the voice of Biharilal, an 80 year old man who is looking for his six cows that hadn't returned from their grazing. With his crooked walking stick in his right hand and my right palm locked in his right hand, we aimlessly take one step after another through the dark farmlands along the Bombay Highway.
"Dada, I don't think you'll find your cows like this," I make a rational plea after walking for a while with him. In his calm, confident, and cracked voice, he replies, "We must still look."
Soon enough, I will realize what a gift the universe has delivered, quite literally, into the palm of my own hands.
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by Nipun Mehta on Jun 27 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Finding Nipun
Couple years into this life, I start to be known as Nipun. Everyone calls me that, so I believe them. "Hi Nipun", "How is Nipun doing today?" "What will Nipun be when he grows up?" It's an overload, to be honest, but you get used to it after a while. In another year or two, Nipun is even ascribed a unique personality: content, quiet and never cries. It's quite a charade -- this Nipun character has got a body, a personality and at least a hundred people who buy into the show.
A few more years and the Nipun show gets old. "Ah, two hands, two legs, one mouth. He's just one of the six billion others on the planet." It's no longer good enough to be Nipun. You've gotta be different. You've gotta be top in your class, you've gotta be the coolest kid on the block with the latest toys, you've gotta stand out with your antics. "Wow, Nipun is the third fastest, under-12 roller skater in the country." Now you're talking. Nipun is bigger and badder than ever before. It's a big show and no curtains will close without the applause. People appreciate your illusions, you appreciate theirs; that's how this game is played.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jun 28 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'
Two Thoreaus of Sakwa County
"I don't need designer glasses," Dhirendra smiles, his sharp bright eyes shining through the wide-rimmed black glasses. It seems like he bought the glasses twenty years ago before moving into this village. His long pause following the casual statement makes one think about the superfluous nature of our world compared to his exceptionally simple life. Dressed in a long home-spun cotton shirt and shorts, he comfortably sits on the freshly resurfaced cow-dung floor chopping vegetables, as his wife Smita comes in and out of the kitchen to respond to our questions as she prepares lunch. Just looking at her glowing skin you can tell that the village life has been good for her. The cool breeze easily flows in and out of the many open windows in this simple, two-room house.
Their home looks almost like any other house in a 400-person village in rural India, except for a few specialized tools: like a hand-made oil press and the silver and yellow windmill on the roof which the villagers tell us to look for while giving us directions to their house.
The Inspiration
Looking at both them, it's hard to believe that they were both professors at an Engineering College in Ahmedabad. Or that he has a degree in Engineering and she studied Physics and Space Science in college. The story of why two PhD's dumped a city life for tribal one, traded in their teaching careers for a shovel and a hoe, and opted to live on 12,000 rupees ($300) a year is an inspiring tale that almost leaves you with a "Duh!" feeling.
[ read more ... ]by Nipun Mehta on Jul 5 '05 | add comment | permalink | more 'pilgrim-mumbai'