Pg 1, Tamilnadu Pg 2 Pg 3 Pg 4, Nadi Leaves Pg 5, Temples Kids_School Pg 6, Auro & Ramana Pg 7, Hosts/Final Day Pg 8, Photo Album
Pondicherry and Aurobindo Ashram
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pondicherry
Rice paddies for miles. Same day delivery. Acres of Sun Flowers.
We arrive in Pondicherry, at rush hour, just before school starts. The milk truck slows us down too.
Pondicherry was familiar territory to Ganesh, and he soon deposited me at a major Indian bank where we hoped my VISA Travelers checks, which can be cashed almost nowhere in India, would be accepted. 2 hours later, after a great lesson in cueing, money exchange protocols, and not really put at ease by the Military Uniform wandering about the bank with a huge shotgun at his side, we left with rupees of unimaginable number stuffed securely in the hidden pouch attached to my belt and hanging inside my trousers. $1 = Rupees 43. $200 = Rupees 8,600. A university professor might make rupees 30,000 in a year, $700us. A driver makes rupees 50 a day, plus tips; a maid 30, no tips. A short drive from the bank we parked near the Aurobindo Ashram, dropped our shoes off at the collection point, across the street from the entrance, got our call number for reclaiming our shoes, and approached the Ashram. The elderly man at the entrance informed us we could find the friend Murty had directed us to, Matri Prasad, by exiting, walking to the back side of this block, and knocking on the door with his name on it.
Sri Aurobindo Ashram
Shoes reclaimed we proceeded to the opposite side of the Ashram block. No name on any door there. Across the cleanly swept street was a tile on the wall that said, "Grace". Ganesh pointed and said, he was behind the door next to the tile. I corrected him, "No. Matri Prasad's name is not there.' He insisted, "He is there." Ganesh had never heard of this man before. But learning that momentum here is to be trusted, I agreed to allow a knock on this door. Of course, Matri Prasad soon appeared, and invited us inside, down the cool clean hall, into his small, very well organized, and obviously busy, office. "Who sent you?" Murty. "I know so many Murty's. Which one? Oh, never mind, if Murty anybody sent you I will gladly receive you." He was pleased to hear I knew much of Aurobindo, and enjoying the kindred understandings we shared, he updated us on the operations of the Ashram, the school with no rewards and no punishments, his history of being here since age 8, probably about 50 some years ago, brought us tea to share, and then took us on a personal tour of the Ashram. We viewed the final resting place of Aurobindo and The Mother, the audience room with a profoundly calming ambiance she most enjoyed meeting students in, and a few tidbits of history here and there. Although the Ashram Hotel was filled, our host made a call and arranged for a room to be made available to me. As we were ending our visit, walking towards the Ambassador, I took the opportunity to offer a query that perhaps a man so seeped in the spiritual could put to rest for me. My Nadi reading had predicted a future that included at least one blessing that was larger than I could comprehend. His response when I asked if he could explain why this was to be my fate, "I wouldn't think so much about it." Of course.
Sri Aurobindo Ashram, New Guest House. Interior Garden. The Ashram morning greeting service.
While in Matri Prasad's office I had asked him what his role was here. He explained that this was a nonhierarchical organization, and that it was what others did not do that was left to him to take care of. It wasn't until two days later that I recalled this is how 2 seasoned, equally humble, CEO's had described their job to me. Need I say it......what wonder.
Ganesh lead me to a beachside balcony where I enjoyed my favorite, chicken, rice, boiled vegetables, and watched for the first time in India, people drinking beer, and in more than modest amounts. Food, the breeze, and a few Anglo faces made this Conde Naste moment complete. We strolled along the oceanside, with Indian parents and little children, men sharing a fondness we would misunderstand here, and vendors luring in an errant rupee or two. I was dropped off at the Ashram Hotel. Ganesh went to the taxi company office for the night. Once the hungry people who apparently gathered every night outside the Ashram Hotel, and sat separated by 30-40 feet, by gender, had received their free meals, the street was quiet and I slept soundly.
Tiravannamali Temple, Ramana Maharshi Ashram, Mt Arunchala
http://www.arunachala-ramana.org/
The next morning we hit the road west, toward the lands of many more monkeys. Let me resolve the suspense quickly. We saw five. We barely considered staying in Tiravannamali over night, waking early to earn the merit from doing the traditional 3-4 hour walk around Mt Arunchala. Walking late invites the Sun's retribution. But this morning we had an excess of time, and the road to Tiravannamali gave us delightful views.
Much if India's food distribution system is very personal.
The road has all kinds of surprises: Big Green Machines, and 3 of the 5 monkeys on the trip.
Today without a heroic project in front of us, we drove leisurely into Tiravannamali and parked at the outer wall of yet another inspiring granite carved temple. My first Indian elephant appears, participating somehow in devotions inside the temple. There is a gatt, endless carved statues, intricately carved 4-10 story entrances, freshly painted scenes from mythic stories on ceilings, pilgrims completing a visit longed for for decades, and a refreshing sprinkling of Anglo looking characters.
Tiravannamali. Photo from http://tiruvannamalai.nic.in/
Tiravannamali Temple. Entrance arches. Detail.
Tall is relative.
Ramana Maharshi http://www.sriramanamaharshi.org/ is well known in the western world as a realized being. He draws at least the admiration, and often, the devotion of western minds who find his life instructive. Thus redheads, blonds, and tall people were showing up regularly. We arrived at the Ashram at the traditional early aft hour where most everything but shops in the big cities, close down until the late aft hours. The Pujari in the hall devoted exclusively to this great being, was locking the gate to the small temple. Still puzzling me, as he looked me quietly in the eye, he withdrew the key from the lock, opened the door, and gestured us in. Ganesh and I spent as much time as I needed in the temple, sharing silence, praying, at least on my part, for my mind to be quiet. Then quickly reviewing the large print story of Ramana Maharshi's life we left the Pujari to complete locking up the temple.
Mt Arunchala. Ramana Maharshi Ashram Entrance. Peacock in trellis near Ashram book store.
We wandered about the compound for a while, mostly silent, delighted at the Peacocks on site, almost got frustrated at finding the bookstore also closed up, retrieved our shoes Ambassador was guarding and headed out to circumambulate Mt. Arunchala, by car. For those earning full merit, part of the road encircling the mountain has street lights to aid the many pilgrims walking in the early and dark morning hours. These lights were paid for by a famous Indian film star. Such general, and public, expressions of caring for people are, if not expected, still normal enuf to be a part of the common cultural exchange. Having done the Arunchala Lite ritual, Ganesh harvested a few bananas from a roadside vender, and we began to retrace our morning route. The route took us back past the ancient fortified pass, and eventually to the freeway.
Surprise piled boulder outcropping, amidst rice paddies. Odd. Further along this formation was more extensive, formed a natural barrier to the interior, and was topped for a long distance with a fort http://www.indiantravelportal.com/tamil-nadu/forts/genji-fort.html , walls, and ancient dwellings.
Chennai-Pondicherry freeway. Entering Chennai, much of scaffolding for overpass is made of trees, farmed extensively, that grow 15 feet a year.
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