Issue 16 Volume 02 August 2012

THE CITY OF LIGHT HEATHER ELTON ASHTANGA CONFLUENCE DEBORAH IFILL HILAND & JENNY BOUWER Publishers & Founding Editors Robert Moses & Eddie Stern Advisors Dr. Robert E. Svoboda ISSUE 16 VOLUME 02 AUGUST 2012 Meenakshi Moses Jocelyne Stern 1. ASHTANGA YOGA CONFLUENCE Editors Deborah Ifill Hiland and Jenny Bouwer Meenakshi Moses Eddie Stern 2. THE CITY OF LIGHT Design & Production Robert Moses Heather Elton Eddie Stern Photographs by the author. Diacritic Editors Vyaas Houston Cover: Brahmins on the ghats in Varanasi. Paul H. Sherbow Photograph by Heather Elton. Assistance from Deborah Harada Website Kendal Kelly Robert Moses

अ आ इ ई उ ऊ a ā i ī u ū ए ऐ ओ औ e ai o au ऋ ॠ ऌ ॡ अं अः ŗ ř ļ ĺ ał aģ क ख ग घ ङ Sri K. Pattabhi Jois ka kha ga gha ńa च छ ज झ ञ ca cha ja jha ña ट ठ ड ढ ण ţa ţha ďa ďha ņa त थ द ध न ta tha da dha na प फ ब भ म Sri Swami Vishnu-devananda pa pha ba bha ma य र ल व NÄMARÇPA uses diacritical marks, as per the ya ra la va chart shown to the right, for the transliteration of all Saêskäta words. While many of the articles do con- श ष स ह tain these marks, it is not a universal occurrence in the śa ša sa ha magazine. In those cases where authors have elected � � � not to use diacritics, Saêskäta words remain in their kša tra jña simple, romanized form. Chart by Vyaas Houston.

August 2012 1 ASHTANGA YOGA CONFLUENCE Deborah Ifill HILAND

ॐ व�द� ग��णा� चरणारिव�द� स�दिश�त�वा�मस��ावबोध� । िन:�ा�यस� ज�ि�कायमान� स�सारहा�ाह�मा�हशा��य� ॥ अाबा�प��षकार� श�च�ािस�ािणम� । सह�िशरश� ��त� �णमािम पत�ि�म� ॥

Oł vande gurūņāł caraņāravinde sandarśita-svātma-sukhāvabodhe | niģśreyase jāñgalikāyamāne sałsāra-hālāhala-mohaśāntyai || ābāhu-purušākārał śañkha-cakrāsi-ďhāriņam | sahasra-śirasał śvetał praņamāmi patañjalim ||

I bow to the two lotus feet of the gurus,who have awakened the knowledge of my own true happiness, my ultimate , acting like the jungle physician, for the pacifying of the delusion of the the poison of samsara. Who has assumed the form of a human up to the arms, bearing a conch, a discus, and a sword, with thousands of radiant, white heads, I bow to Patanjali.

Nancy Gilgoff, Richard Freeman, David Swenson, Tim Miller and Eddie Stern. Photograph by Michelle Haymoz.

2 Issue 16 Volume 02 If we practice the science of yoga—which he first annual Ashtanga Yoga all of us, teachers and students alike, as is useful to the entire human communi- TConfluence1 featured five senior we carry on this tradition to the next ty and which yields happiness both here- western students of Sri K Pattabhi Jois generation. and hereafter—if we practice it without for a gathering in the spirit of Guruji’s The event was held from March 1st- fail, we will thenattain physical, men- life and teachings. This historical event 4th, 2012 in San Diego, CA at the tal, and spiritual happiness,and our brought together people from around Catamaran Resort & Spa. It was such minds will flood towards the Self. the world who share a love for Ashtanga a tremendous success, with 400 in at- ~ yoga and offered them an opportunity tendance and 500 people on a waiting The means by which the mind is direct- to immerse themselves in the practice. list. Encouraged by this turnout, we or- ed towards the Self and prevented from The classic teachings of yoga date back ganized a second event for 2013, to take going towards outside objects is what is over 5,000 years and have taken many place from February 28th – March 3rd known as yoga.... The word yoga signi- turns to bring us to where yoga is to- at the same venue. fies the means to the realization of one’s day in the West. Pattabhi Jois sowed Having participated over the years in true nature the seeds of this ancient practice in the other yoga events with many different ~ West when he made his first trip to En- styles and teachers, Jenny Bouwer and I just as the evening sun cools his [own] cinitas, California, in 1975. Since then, came together to create an ‘Ashtanga only’ radiance, so will one who practices the popularity of yoga has increased yoga conference. After putting together a the third step of ashtanga yoga — dramatically in America and abroad. In comprehensive plan for a three and a half ásana — be free from mental distur- organizing the Confluence, we wanted day event, we approached our teacher bance and so become stable-minded to give special thanks not only to Gu- Tim Miller, and his wife Carol, for their ~ ruji, but to all of our teachers who have thoughts and support. Depending on Tritiya kalasto’ ravih svayam helped carry on Guruji’s teachings in their response, we were prepared to either samharate prabham, tritiyangasthito America, continuing to pave the path. throw in the towel or move forward. We yogi vikaram manasam tatha. We also wanted to see if we could help basically felt that without their knowledge support the Ashtanga Yoga community and support, it would be impossible to Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, Yoga Mala with a communal gathering to inspire proceed.

1con·flu·ence [kon-floo-uhns] noun: A flowing together of two or more streams. An act or process of merging. A coming together of people or things.

Tim Miller. Photograph by Tom Rosenthal.

August 2012 3 We all agreed it would be an Ashtan- of Pattabhi Jois and devoted teach- began practicing yoga in 1927 at the ga only conference rather than a mix ers of his method. Miraculously, all age of twelve with the great yoga master of many different styles and teachings. of the teachers I invited said yes.” T. Krishnamacharya. At the age of 15, Secondly, it would be relatively small – Guruji ran away from home to study at 350 to 400 students – with five primary We also all agreed we wanted a more the College in Mysore, where students of Guruji teaching, and several spiritual and meaningful name than he was miraculously reconnected with others as assistants. With this intimate- “conference”. Tim and Carol suggested his Guru. In 1937, Guruji was granted style group, students could experience Confluence. In India, the location where a position as yoga teacher at the Sanskrit mostly everything together rather than two or more rivers merge is thought College by the Maharajah of Mysore. having lots of choices with different to be an auspicious place of spiritual Guruji opened the Ashtanga Yoga classes all going on simultaneously. power. In the same spirit, these highly Research Institute at his home in Lak- We asked Tim to choose whom he respected teachers decided to join us in shmipuram in 1948. Over the years, thought would be the best people to a confluence* of classes, lectures, stories Guruji successfully treated cases of dia- come teach for the event, and to his and events designed to share the pro- betes, asthma, polio, heart disease and pleasure and ours, all the people he found gift of yoga they received from even one leprosy case with a combina- asked said yes: their beloved teacher, Sri K. Pattabhi tion of yoga therapy and diet. Jois. Suddenly, the name Confluence “The first four names to come to was perfect. As a celebration of Guruji’s hen we asked Eddie to give us mind were Richard Freeman, Da- legacy, like different streams from the Wa summary of his experience at vid Swenson, Nancy Gilgoff and same source, each senior western teach- the first annual Confluence, he said: Eddie Stern. These are all friends er received a thorough transmission of that I have known for at least twen- the ashtanga yoga system from Guruji, "It is only by sharing teachings, ty years, teachers that I have great filtered it through their own experience retelling stories, and listening to admiration and respect for, and and developed a unique way of sharing each others experiences that the individuals with very different per- his teachings. spiritual imperatives of a tradition sonalities and teaching styles. That stay alive and vibrant, and remain great common ground among us is attabhi Jois, affectionately in the world for new generations of that we were all long time students Pknown to his students as “Guruji”, seekers to benefit from.

Eddie Stern. Photograph by Tom Rosenthal.

4 Issue 16 Volume 02 During the Confluence, this is achieve, but so worthwhile striv- tion of the heritage he left behind exactly what we did. We told stories ing for. During our gathering, I in the form of words, thoughts and about Guruji, and we told our stories think we came very close, if not remembrances shared during the too, which form a part of him as well. all the way, towards entering into panel discussions. We shared his teachings; we laughed, this space, and I am very grateful Many participants commented questioned, investigated, and at the to have been able to sit along side that they enjoyed the panel discus- very end, even cried a little. We did Tim Miller, Nancy Gilgoff, David sions the most of all. I personally all of this out of love, devotion, and Swenson and Richard Freeman, felt so honored to be there listening gratitude, which are the very things who are among Pattabhi Jois’s to the other teachers, my friends, that the yoga texts proclaim are need- most talented and senior teach- expounding upon the depth of their ed for a spiritual life. ers, and for whom I have much understandings of the practice, The final of the Rig love, admiration and respect, for philosophy and life-tools gained Veda say: this momentous occasion." from their decades of practice. It was a testament to the power of the Meet together, talk together, let your aving David Swensen was a system and also to the underlying minds apprehend alike... Hcompleter joy; he later wrote to thread of breath that connects us Common be the prayer of these us: all. There were certainly differences assembled, common be the acquire- of opinions on some topics but ment, common the purpose, associ- “For the five teachers: Nancy there was also a deep and resound- ated be the desire. I repeat for you a Gilgoff, Tim Miller, Richard Free- ing respect for each other. It was common prayer... man, Eddie Stern and myself plus an important moment to acknowl- Common by your intention, an equal number of assistants: edge differences, accept changes common be the wishes of your heart, Mary Taylor, Leah Nicole, Johnny and revel in the common love, re- common be your thoughts, so that Smith, Noah Williams and my spect and inspiration we each feel there be union among you. wife Shelley Washington, we all felt for each other and Ashtanga Yoga Guruji’s presence within the energy as a lifelong journey and valuable These thoughts are truly a and breath during the practice ses- tool that we are all blessed to have divine aspiration; so hard to sions as well as a glimpse into a por- been touched by.”

David Swensen. Photograph by Tom Rosenthal.

August 2012 5 e were so honored when ability to really help students and not least, to have all of the organiz- WRichard Freeman said he could practitioners of all levels and all ers of the event participating in and come to the Confluence. These five ages. And even more stunning was understanding the yoga was a truly teachers together were illuminating. the simple devotion that I found unique and refreshing aspect to the This was Richards’s response to his ex- amongst the practitioners who were Confluence. I’m very happy and perience: in attendance; their devotion to just honored to have been part of it." practicing! Everyone was open and “The Confluence was a delight- curious about all of the different e were thrilled to have ful, flowing together of five differ- limbs of the yoga tradition and it WNancy Gilgoff come to San Di- ent strands and interpretations of seemed that everyone was respect- ego from Hawaii to reunite with her the same system, which Pattabhi ful of each other’s unique methods friends and teach us how she was taught. Jois has passed on to us. I was and contributions. This is what she said: struck (but certainly not surprised) The talks and panel discussions by the easy camaraderie amongst were inspiring to me because ev- “In 1973, when I was taught by all of the teachers, assistants, and eryone had different wonderful in- Pattabhi Jois for the first time, he most of all the amazing practitio- sights into the fundamental priori- taught me in a “different” way than ners who came. It was nice to be in ties, techniques and philosophies of ashtanga yoga is generally taught, a conference-like setting where no the yoga and all were able to with fewer vinyasas and often join- one was placing an exclusive trip apply them to the here and now. ing groups of poses together.” on anyone or trying to claim the The devotion and love for- Pat entire art of Ashtanga yoga as their tabhi Jois which spilled out of the We look forward to Nancy’s 2013 class own; and in fact, this is what has presenters and many participants where she will share with us the practice always attracted me to the overall as well I believe would have pleased as it was taught to her at that time. We Ashtanga community. him to no end. The story telling are also thrilled that Dena Kingsberg, a Another thing which stunned and reminiscing brought back student of Guruji’s for twenty five years, me, was how funny all of the pre- many memories, which I had for- will be joining us next year, from Byron senters were, and at the same time gotten and which keep taking me Bay, Australia. We look forward to the how down to earth and practical to that ecstatic and loving space second Confluence! they were in their demonstrated which we all share. And last, but

Richard Freeman. Photograph by Tom Rosenthal.

6 Issue 16 Volume 02 NĀmarŪpa asked Jenny Bouwer ... Why the confluence? how did the idea arise??

im always says a yoga prac- "Ttice is like a life well lived; in the end, if you have worked hard, you can rest peacefully, knowing that you have done your best. This is Savasana. As yogis, we practice this letting go and this surrender each time we finish a yoga practice. I feel that the Ashtanga yoga com- munity was brought together and was collectively deeply moved by Guruji’s passing; thousands felt some heartfelt emotion in someway. His dedication to his and his loyalty to teach- ing has been brought to light more now than ever. His passing has made his stu- dents and followers truly embrace the heart of the practice, its discipline and its purity. The heart of the Confluence isto continue sharing and bringing together Ashtanga yoga teachers and students for the love of the practice, for the lin- eage of the teachings, and for the sacred knowledge from India, passed down for thousands of years. The purpose of the Confluence is to receive the teachings from the teachers who have come be- fore us; we are here still practicing today so that we can all learn. The Confluence will begin to move to different locations around the world so that we can contin- ue to come together to share, remember, study, and preserve the tradition and the purity of this method."

Please visit www.ashtangayogaconfluence.com to learn more about the next Ashtanga Yoga Confluence to be held in San Diego, California from February 28 - March 3, 2013 . Nancy Gilgoff. Photograph by Tom Rosenthal.

August 2012 7 ॐ �वि�त �जा�यः पिरपा�य�ता� �याय�न माग�ण मह� महीशाः । गो�ा�ण��यः श��म�त� िन�य� �ोकाः सम�ताः स�ि�नो �व�त� ॥ ॐ �ाि�तः �ाि�तः �ाि�तः

Oł svasti prajābyaģ paripālayantāł nyāyena mārgeņa mahīł mahīśāģ | go-brāhmaņebhyaģ śubham astu nityał lokāģ samastāģ sukhino bhavantu || Oł śāntiģ śāntiģ śāntiģ

May the rulers of the earth protect the well-being of the people, by means of the virtuous path. May there be eternal good fortune for all living beings. May the inhabitants of all the worlds be full of happiness. Om peace, peace, peace!

Class. Photograph by Lena Gardelli.

8 Issue 16 Volume 02 THE CITY OF LIGHT TEXT AND PHOTOS BY HEATHER ELTON

y travels in Varanasi take me Malong the Ganga, to Manikarnika Ghat, the Aghori ashram, and along the Panchakroshi pilgrimage circuit to uncover a sacred city in the shape of a cosmic .

A I R of this is a vague abstract concept to me mighty time that restlessly destroys but my mind is always open to genuine everything). He is the terrible Bhaira- 've waited until now, my seventh spiritual experiences. Since time imme- va, the Lord of the spirits that dwells Itrip to India, to visit Varanasi, due to morial, Varanasi has been a place pre- in the cremation grounds where he both my esteem for this sacred city and ferred by the Gods, demi-gods, sages, performs the dance of destruction and my fear of death. The fear was partly a poets, kings and ordinary people. And creation. He is the iconic Maha Yogin result of people telling me that they got indeed, if it was good enough for the smeared in cremation ash, his dread- so sick here they thought they would die Buddha, Patanjali, Parshvanatha (the locked hair adorned with the crescent (or at least they wanted to); I was also leading prophet of Jainism) and great moon and the Ganga waters; in fact, not sure if I was ready to confront death poets like Kabir, I, too, want to experi- Siva played a big part in bringing the on the cremation ghats. I also needed a ence its magnetic, or cosmic, power. Ganga to earth. His garland is strung serious enough spiritual practice to en- Most people here believe that Vara- with skulls and a poisonous cobra able me to understand what was really nasi was really founded by Siva several writhes around his neck. He drinks going on in the most sacred, and oldest, thousand years ago as his ‘Forest of bhang and eats datura; his throat has living city in the world, dating back sev- Bliss,’ and that everything here, even turned blue from the poison he holds eral thousand years. the pebbles and dust, is pervaded by suspended there to stop it from en- Varanasi, or Kashi as it is sometimes his existence. His lingams number in gulfing the whole of the universe. He known, is revered in Hindu and Bud- the thousands, like little sprouts arisen is intoxicated with bliss. The Trishul dhist texts, including the Puranas, the out of sheer bliss, and every place in (trident) is his weapon, representing Rig-Veda, the Ramayana and the Mahab- the city is linked to one of his legends, the triple aspect of creation (Brahma), harata. It’s believed that those who en- or his 64 incarnations, or his 1008 maintenance (Vishnu) and destruction ter Varanasi will be reborn into a sacred names. He is worshipped as Vishvesh- (Siva) of the world. The sound of his cosmos. The city itself was conceived as vara (the Lord of the Universe), Ma- damaru, the hourglass-shaped drum, a reflection on earth of the divine order hadeva (the Great Lord), Panchanana is the eternal cosmic play of creation above. Of course, not being Hindu, all (the five-headed one), Mahakala (the and dissolution. My western mind is

2 Issue 16 Volume 02 intrigued by all these stories, but my Jai Ma; we had a plan to investigate this the Trishul) and spreads light all around quest is an understanding of Siva as tantric tradition. She is keen to experi- the city. Bliss and light are one. I get a pure awareness, pure consciousness, ence life in the smashan, the cremation glimpse of luminosity as the morning purusha, being totally aware that a ground. Always the dutiful teacher, I sun spreads across the river and strikes dualistic mind is in fact one of the suggest a sunset walk along the Ganga the high-banked face of this city, color- greatest obstacles to overcome on the and, in no time, we find ourselves at ing the ghats rose. spiritual path. Harishchandra Ghat (the smaller cre- The river is broad and there is noth- And so, I arrived in this cosmic city mation ghat); as I glance upwards I get ing built on the opposite bank – just known as Kashi, Varanasi, Banaras, or my first glimpse of an Aghori. A young a wide sandy beach receding into Benaras (as the British misunderstood man is sitting on a window ledge dressed the distance and then a line of trees. it) on a train from Bodhgaya. Stepping totally in black with a necklace of skulls. 20,000 a day bathe in the out on to the platform I’m met by a Jai Ma! We have arrived. river to purify themselves. Everyone rather handsome Brahmin man, Um- comes here to perform morning ablu- esh, who is my guide. Impressed that he W A T E R tions. Young Brahmin priests dressed found me so fast, I happily sacrifice my in traditional red lungis wash out independence into his capable hands. ust before dawn, we slip into a bowls on the banks of the river. People Umesh takes me to the comfortable Sahi Jsmall wooden boat and float along sit in silent mediation; others delight Guesthouse on Assi Ghat, where one the mighty Ganga. It’s so pleasurable, in storytelling. Somewhere bells are of my students, Nuria, has decided to gently drifting across the water as the ringing. Women wash clothes while join me. We have both read Robert Svo- city awakens. I can see why devout Hin- wet ones dry in the sun; meters of boda’s Aghora: At the Left Hand of God dus refer to Varanasi as "Kashi" – the brightly coloured saris stretch across about Aghori yogis living in the charnel Luminous One, the City of Light. In the ghats. Buffalo lounge in the water. grounds, eating their food from human the Kashi Kanda (26.27), Siva resides There are endless scenes: elders ten- skulls, sleeping on cremation graves, on the three high peaks that encompass derly helping each other to dress, hip- and worshipping the scary blue deity, Varanasi (his three-pronged weapon, pies smoking chillums in conversation

August 2012 3 with Indian mystics, wandering wid- ows, wandering bulls, holy Sadhus, and ascetics (sanyasi) sitting on the colossal flights of stone steps leading down to the water’s edge. Of the 84 ghats that line the curve of the Ganga, five of them are considered most sacred as they represent the bodily parts of Lord Siva. I try to visualize the supine form of the Siva with his head at Assi Ghat, chest at Dashaswamedh, na- vel at Manikarnika, thighs at Panchganga and feet at Adi Keshav, but it is too vast. I find the idea of his navel residing at Man- ikarnika fascinating in the sense that the main element here is fire, something that mirrors Tantric systems where the Ma- nipura chakra, at the navel, in the subtle energy body, also represents fire. The navel is the site where heat is created to stimu- late the Kundalini energy and transcend to the spirit realm. I can imagine the Vedic horse sacri- fices performed by Hindus on Dashas- wamedh Ghat in 2 bce, with horrific images of fresh blood seeping into the Ganga, and wonder what the contem- porary version is today and why sacri- fice really is necessary; I feel a surge of distain for religion but let the aversion pass, erase the stain of momentary per- ception, and come back to the present moment and my breath. I feel like a character inside a film. Drifting past the ghats is like watching the history of India unfold before my eyes – the post-Vedic world dissolves into the medieval period of Muslim invaders and the imperious Raj Kingdoms, through the East India Company (1764), Indian In- dependence (15th August 1947), and into the modern world. I’m really overcome by the grandeur of the Mother Ganga, the myriad temple spires, and the Mughal- style sandstone pavilions, the palaces at water's edge, and the seamless life on the ancient ghats. Many structures seem to be falling down, but the decay only adds a patina of authenticity. Time stands still, and I’m suspended in some dream-like sensation of floating through the city of Gods. I feel as if I could simply disappear into this City of Light, dissolve into the liquid form of Siva – the crescent shape of the Ganga. I feel a great sense of peace

4 Issue 16 Volume 02 that comes with deep understanding. Yet, as I look into the muddy brown water it doesn’t take long before my intellect drags me back to more mundane view and I wonder if a burned limb will float by and just how filthy is this holy water that pu- rifies sins? I light a small votive floating candle and send it adrift in the water, pre- cariously on a leaf, along with my prayers to embrace moksha (liberation). The pink rays of dawn color the water rose. A cou- ple of years back, in Delhi, a Vedic astrolo- ger did a reading for me and ominously said that the only way I could tone down the strong transits of Pluto that continu- ously plague me was to find a rusty nail ring from Varanasi. I spot the perfect nail in the boat and when I mention this to Umesh he says he’ll take care of it. Me- lodic chanting floats in the air. Instead of hearing some traditional Indian bhajans, the voice carried across the Ganga this morning belongs to none other than the American devotional singer Krishna Das! I get a good chuckle over the irony of this, but realise it’s a sign of the sacred and mundane merging. Varanasi is part of the global economy; Krishna Das is a kirtan master whose records sales probably sur- pass those of Ravi Shankar. Well before we get to Manikarnika ghat, the smoke and ash from the fu- neral pyres cloud the landscape. It’s a magnet drawing us towards its center – the navel. It’s impressive, with 750 stairs leading up from the Ganga to the Old City, with ancient temples and wooden buildings turned black from centuries of smoke. Cremation fires glow through the haze, outlin- ing the silhouettes of people moving around the ghat. Towering above is the ominous red Tarakeshvara, the most important temple on the ghat; it holds the form of Siva who imparts the liberating Taraka – the ‘prayer of the crossing,’ – at the moment of death. Sri Rama Jaya Rama Jaya Jaya Rama. Lord Siva whispers the mantra into the ear of the deceased to ensure moksha and release from worldly life. Sri means Shakti or Sita. Ra symbolises the fire that burns our karma. Ma rep- resents water - the peace that surpasses all understanding. Jaya means victory to the spirit over the flesh.

August 2012 5 Nuria is looking ashen-faced as she finally passed, I felt honoured to be sacred pool, the Manikarnika Kund. stares at the burning pyres, smoldering with him in his final days, sending Also known as Chakrapusharini, or fires, and men in mourning white intent him love and sweetly soothing him, it Discus Lotus-Pond, it is the world’s on the bodies crackling and dissolving remains one of my most cherished and first pool and tirtha. According to the in the flames. Overhead the ever-present sacred spiritual experiences. I released Kashi Kanda, Vishnu carved this beauti- vultures circle patiently. Children play on his ashes into the five elements high in ful lotus pool with his discus (chakra) the ghat, cows wander through, goats bal- the Canadian Rockies – into the sky, and filled it up with his sweat. His work ance on piles of wood, feral dogs sleep in wind, earth, and torrential waterfall to completed, Vishnu sat nearby for eons the warmth of the ashes or scavenge for echo the sound of water for eternity. performing fierce austerities. Siva- ap remains. Bodies swathed in bright colours Fire carried my prayers for a good re- parently was so impressed with Vishnu’s lie waiting for the next pyre. Workers con- birth or eternal peace. Here now in devotion that he shook with delight and stantly tend the pyres to keep them burn- Varanasi, through the seeming horror lost his jeweled earring, Manikarnika, in ing. Jutting from the stacked logs, I can of it all, the scene is somehow peaceful the pond. Each year when the Ganga re- make out a human limb, or head, of one and uninterrupted. Perhaps Siva really cedes, alluvial silt is left in the tank but of the departed. The endless cycle of life is personally delivering the deceased then it refills, miraculously, in time for and death stabs me in my belly as I con- to , or else people have come Sivaratri, a yearly festival in reverence of template samsara. to embody and accept the reality that Lord Siva. I climb down the perfectly I remember my first true under- everyone we ever know will eventually symmetrical stone-stepped sides to the standing of death. I was about eleven die, including our selves and that this pond and feel the exceptionally silky years old, sitting in our old Studebaker is not necessarily a sad thing, rather a water from the Ganga. A Brahmin man car outside a shopping mall in Calgary cause for celebration of living a good smiles at me, his hands in Namaskar, with my father when he told me that he life. and I feel a beautiful connection as his wanted to be cremated when he died. Our boat docks at Manikarnika Ghat. divine being greets my divine , I felt physically sick at the thought of The cremation ground got its name be- and again I feel drawn deeper into the losing him. Decades later, when he cause of its proximity to Varanasi’s most sacred city.

6 Issue 16 Volume 02 Beside the tank is the small Adi Kes- ava temple, which has a set of Vishnu’s marble footprints, also known as Cha- ranapaduka. Vishnu apparently stood in meditation here for about 500,000 years to please Siva. I have a small sil- ver charm of Vishnu’s feet on my pen- dant and the priest blesses it with a red puja mark. I feel a genuine surge of true devotion, perhaps because Vishnu’s feet have been part of my life for many years. ‘Om vande gurunam caranaravinde’ is how the Astanga yoga chant (an excerpt from the epic poem the Yoga Taravali) begins and I’ve said it over 10,000 times. It makes reference to bowing to the feet of the guru, the feet of Vishnu, ultimately your own Inner Guru, which is where the yoga journey leads. This is the first of the 108 shrines on the famous Panchakroshi pilgrimage route and I appreciate that Umesh has chosen to bring us to this temple first. We disappear into the labyrinth of meandering narrow serpentine al- leys of the Old City. Shafts of light penetrate through the darkness, il- luminating the mysticism. The back-

August 2012 7 streets are drenched in the fragrance F I R E there for the city, but the city exists for of incense and puja flowers. Snake the ghats. The British finally understood charmers, murti carvers, dreadlocked aranasi is searing hot and the this after years of attempting unsuccess- hippies, pilgrims, mutilated beggars, Vhidden streets in the Old City are fully to outlaw the burnings. We walk spiritual wannabes and saffron-clad probably the coolest place to be. I’m through the narrow lanes lined with sadhus haunt the streets lined with sipping a refreshing pomegranate and spiritual tourists, dreadlocked Israelis, ornately carved doorways and exqui- coconut lassi at the famous Blue Lassi ash-smeared aghoris, wallas of every site decaying houses. Umesh leads shop; I watch the lassi walla churn description balancing god-knows-what us to the epicenter of Siva’s city, the the curd with a big stick, spoon it on their heads, well–fed goats, dogs like Vishvanath Temple (Golden Temple) into a disposable clay pot, the yogurt walking skeletons with horrid skin dis- that was partially destroyed by the spilling over the edges, and decorate eases, lazy cows and hard-working black Muslim rulers who built a mosque on it with fruits, seeds and nuts. Nuria buffalos, rusting bicycles, youth on ag- the site. There are armed soldiers on says, ‘Did you see the corpse on the gressive honking scooters, and many the streets guarding both the mosque corner?” Suddenly, I hear someone men drinking chai. Above are glittering and the temple, and only Hindus are shout "Rama Nam Hai." I ex- temples, spires and domes, and wooden allowed inside. We must be satisfied pect to see a dead body on the street, doorways with decorative carvings from with a glimpse through a crack in the but it’s a funeral procession carrying another time. Beneath my feet are eons wall and I can see the gold gilded roof. a corpse wrapped with sparkly red of filth; horrid scents rise up, soon to be A feeling of resentment arises because and gold fabric and marigold garlands washed away by sweet fragrance of puja I’m not allowed into the temple. It on a decorated bamboo pier (plank). flowers. turns out that an exact replica has Everyone gets out of the way. I feel a I can tell we’re close to Manikar- been built at the University of Benares physical contraction in my body and I naka Ghat when the shops sell death and we may visit it. I turn my back realise how rare it is to see a corpse in supplies and monumental piles of on religion and try to get lost in the the western world. "Ram Nam Satya dark brown wood, hacked roughly to maze of lanes that always return to the Hai" is the final mantra before cre- lengths of about five feet, are stacked Ganga. Eventually, we end a brilliant mation. Even though I see death all seven and eight feet high, ready for the morning with a delicious South In- around me, and intellectually I know fires below. There is an endless cycle of dian breakfast of idli and masala dosa, that we all eventually die, somewhere slightly built men carrying armloads made by a street vendor outside the deep inside I still think it won’t hap- of wood. So much wood, it looks South Indian ghat. It’s as fresh and pen to me. like a city of wood… a fallen ‘forest tasty as any in Mysore. Exhausted, we The street leads to Manikarnaka. of bliss.’ We’re down wind and can collapse into one of Varanasi’s oldest Probably all streets lead to Manikarnika feel the heat of the fires and ash. My chai shops and watch the world un- as it is the center of the city. There is a eyes sting as the air is heavy with the fold around us. saying in Varanasi that the ghats are not smells of burning wood, incense, and

8 Issue 16 Volume 02 a somewhat disturbingly sweet aroma. Suddenly, the zigzag stone ghat steps appear and the whole of Manikarnika comes into view. There are hundreds of men. No women here except for a few foreign tourists. Only men take part in the cremation ceremony as no one can cry or the soul is held back. Even the wife of the deceased stays at home. Nuria is a bit overwhelmed by the heat, but mostly the men, and looks like a ghost. I sit her down in the shade with a bottle of water, while I explore further. Part of my sadhana is the Mahasmashan, the great creation ground. The Purana (IV.30.103-104) explains the word: Maha means great and sma means corpse, and shana means final rest. In the Vedic tradition, important life events are marked by religious ceremo- nies. The final ceremony after death is Antyeshti. Anta literally means end, and eshti is wish, desire, seeking to go towards. This is the finalYagna (sacrifice), when the body itself is offered to Agni (fire) – the final purification rite to reduce the bonds between the subtle body and the gross body. In the Antyeshti ceremony, the body’s five basic components – known as panch bhutas – prithvi (earth), jal (water), tej (fire), vayu (wind) and akash (space) are returned to the universe, thus main- taining the cosmic equilibrium. For a Hindu, existence does not be- gin with birth and end with the death of the physical body. There is an in- dweller called jiva (soul) that manifests in a given body in order to experience the results of its previous karmas. At the time of death, the jiva gives up its current form to assume another more suitable one to continue its experiences based on the results of prior karmas. Antyeshti serves to dispose of the body, equips the soul for the scary transitory journey to Yamaloka, and frees the soul from the pollution caused by death. Until this ritual is performed, the soul is believed to remain on earth, where it flits about restlessly as a (ghost). Ultimately, Hindus aspire to no more , and in most places, this is only possible for those beings who have worked through their past karmas and have lived a life of . But here in

August 2012 9 Varanasi, cremation at Manikarnika surprisingly, their members are among One Dom tells me I can shoot anything Ghat ensures liberation and the end of the ten wealthiest families in Varanasi. except the bodies. No problem. Another worldly existence. If you don’t like their price, they’ll tell says, "No photography without the of- you take your corpse somewhere else. ficial documents." In truth, pay a little O Jiva! After thy death, may all the More than 38,000 corpses are cremated money and you can do what you want. components of thy body be merged into the here in a year, over 100 a day, and the I end up in a high wooden tower next five elements. May the power of thy sight fires burn ceaselessy. Around 100 fami- to the burning place and watch the cer- be absorbed into the sun and thy breath be lies comprise a clan; each has a specific emony unfold. absorbed into the air. May thy other parts task – selling the wood, collecting the A dozen fires burn in shallow ashy be absorbed into appropriate elements. money, stoking the fires of the dead, pits. People say that at the end every- And in accordance with the meritorious tending to sacred fire that has burned one dies equally, but even here there are deed thou hast performed here, may thy for 3,000 years and is the source of fire separate areas for rich, middle class and spirit dwell in the appropriate body. for all the cremations. They are part of poor people, and the size of the pyre The Rig-Veda the paradox of life here; they perform a depends on how much wood you can duty that makes them the most polluted afford. The death ritual starts with the Varanasi is the city of death and peo- of the untouchable casts, yet they are in- body facing south, the abode of Yama ple come here to die from all over India, dispensable for the most sacred ritual in the god of Death. Then the feet, or and from as far away as London. There . sometimes the entire lower half of the is a stream of corpses and the fires burn There is an air of casualness to it all, body, are soaked in the river to prevent continuously. Everywhere I encounter no doubt from millennia of routine, prana (the vital principle) from leaving ghatias, the ghat-priests. They are Doms, yet there is a level of organization and the body inauspiciously through one of the lowest of the ‘untouchable caste,’ attention to detail that simply staggers its lower openings. The chief mourner, responsible for performing the funeral my mind. Everyone is watching me and who is usually the eldest son, with his rites and dealing with dead bodies. Ap- I’m followed wherever I go. It might be head shorn and dressed in white, walks parently, they are all part of one original my camera, or the innate opportunism five times around the body to represent family that has been in charge of the to make money from tourists. Photog- the five elements that are given back to Ghat for several thousand years and, not raphy is strictly forbidden here, or is it? their source. He pours Ganga water into

10 Issue 16 Volume 02 the mouth of the deceased and puts san- eyes of this rather well-groomed gha- dalwood and butter oil on the body. He tia, searching for true compassion, and lights the pyre with reeds lit from the wonder if he’ll just pocket my money, eternal sacred fire. The ghatias then tend but then realise all I can do is offer the the pyre by turning the logs to ensure gift. After that it’s his karma. I give the the burning is complete. It takes 350kg money to an old woman who manages (750lbs) of wood to burn a body prop- the lodge and nurses the old people who erly and the cremation lasts about three live out their days in the hospice. I re- hours. ceive their blessing and return to the I’m looking at this scene through ghat steps where I left Nuria. As we turn my 300 mm lens when, suddenly, I see our backs on Manikarnika we feel the a half burned man with his legs stick- strong force of spiritual magnetism, the ing out of a pyre. It’s a truly disturbing sacred bondage between place and per- and shocking sight and I feel the image son. A power that enhances the sensi- sear the inside of my mind – some- tivity to the ‘crossings’ from this world thing that will remain with me for a to the word beyond, where humanity long time. Those who can’t afford the meets divinity. We’re certain that the required amount of wood, leave behind Hindu faith in the sacred fire will keep half burned body parts, which are then Manikarnika burning bright for centu- thrown into the Ganga, if not eaten by ries to come. dogs. The sternum and ribcage of men and pelvis ofwomen rarely burn to ash. The Atman (soul) can never be cut to Bizarrely, special snapping turtles have pieces by a weapon, nor burned by fire, been bred to consume the body parts nor moistened by water, nor dried by the and are released into the river for this wind. purpose; they have been taught to con- Bhagavad Gita (2-23) sume only dead human flesh and do not bother swimmers and bathers. These turtles consume about a pound of flesh a day and can reach a size of 70 pounds. The only exceptions to cremation are holy men, pregnant women, people with leprosy or chicken pox, those bit- ten by snakes, those who have commit- ted suicide, and children under five. Instead, their bodies are weighed down with stones and lowered into the Ganga. Since the 90s, the Indian government has set up electric crematoriums in most urban centers, including Varanasi, an option for poor people as it is far less ex- pensive, but still most people come here to receive the ancient funeral rites. It is really difficult for India’s poor to afford enough wood for their deaths. They have to begin saving in their youth. Near the ghat are numerous hospices where the elderly and terminally ill come to die and spend their last moments on the banks of the Mother Ganga. I feel truly honored to be present in this ‘holy of holiest places,’ where our world and the next world meet. I decide to buy some wood for a poor person and help to create an auspicious end to their earthly life. I take a long look into the

August 2012 11 E A R T H man Chalisa chanted live in the corner, thousands, as does Nandi the bull, Si- a pungent and ever present aroma of va's vehicle and the doorkeeper of Siva’s very major sacred site in India incense and fragrant flowers, mantras temples. There are curious murtis (stat- Eexists in Varanasi, not just in a mys- floating through the air. Children run ues) of Hanuman or Ganesh, unworked tical sense, but there are exact scaled- and scream with excitement. I get the ‘natural’ stones covered over with red down versions of original temples here. sense that for Indians these temple visits cloth and with orange paint mixed with People believe that if you come to Vara- are a kind of pure theatre and intense ghee. There is so much outpouring of nasi, you can forego all other spiritual socialization, a welcome opportunity to love between the deity and the devotee. wanderings. We follow Umesh through get outside of the rigid routine of their I’m deeply fascinated by this ancient the narrow lanes behind the ghats lives. There is a tangible dimension of ritual of darshan and want to ‘see’ and packed with ancient temples. I attend energy here, yet often it seems laced ‘be seen’ by the deity. I want to experi- numerous pujas, am blessed and blessed with a kind of desperation or grasping ence the transcendental power that will again, and steal glimpses of the residing that comes from the belief that the gods reveal my own inner guru. deities, their fierce eyes staring out from will sort out the problems in life. But In the past, a few deities have taken bodies swathed in exquisite fabrics. I understand very little. The intensity hold of me, but much of the time my Some of the temples are quiet and a kind makes me crave the serene solitude of rational mind reveals only a strange and of solitude descends. In the more popu- sacred Buddhist sites high in the Hima- scary looking creature and I recede, re- lar ones, we are continuously immersed layas. But I’m here and try to embrace spectfully opening the space to others. in throngs of barefoot devotees, pushed the chaos, or withdraw to the sidelines Perhaps it’s because I’m not Hindu, and shoved in a heaving line leading to where I can simply sit and observe. nor have I been brought up with these the inner sanctum, everyone eager to be On every other corner is a small shrine deities. Much as I try to shed my condi- blessed by the priest and get a glimpse of with a Siva lingam, set in a marble sur- tioned existential views towards religion Siva, Vishnu, Ganesh, Hanuman, Kali round, with men huddled on all four and summon up the infinite devotion or Durga. It’s a total sensory experience sides chanting in unison and paying I often feel in nature, meditation and with temple bells ringing, the Hanu- homage. This form of Siva exists in the yoga, I rarely feel a genuine outpour-

12 Issue 16 Volume 02 ing of love for the deities. The tantric practice has taught me to see the outer deity only as a tool to train my mind to see its own innate essence. I don’t believe that these gods actually exist. Still, my heart is touched by the strong energy that exists in places where millions of people have walked and shared a similar intention of thought, or prayers, for the benefit of all living beings. A mysterious site stirs my imagina- tion. Lolark Kund is an ancient Solar- Saivite site of worship, first mentioned in the Rig Veda (2nd millenium bce). Three colossal staircases descend steeply, 15 m below street level, to a sacred well in the shape of a keyhole. Lolark means trembling sun and at different times dur- ing the day, the wavering face of Lord Surya (the Sun God) is reflected in the water as pure light. It’s the most south- ern of the 12 sun shrines along the Gan- ga at Varanasi; each of the shrines marks the exact spot of the cusp between one zodiacal sign and the next. Recent ob- servations have shown the siting to be absolutely correct. I feel a deep rever- ence for nature here, and am in awe of the ingenious design of the ancients that reveals the path of the sun throughout the year, as well as astronomical events such as total solar eclipses and meteor showers. I notice that despite being a Brahmin, Umesh rarely takes prasad or enters the inner sanctums. I ask him why and he says he only worships Durga after his bi-annual fast, or its too intense, and can actually be destructive. I think of all the blessings I’ve received and feel as if I might dissolve. The temple where he does worship daily is the Aghori Ash- ram; to our surprise, it turns out that our Brahmin guide is a plain-clothed tantric aghori. The Awadhoot Kinaram Ashram (the seat of the Aghoris in Kashi) is an im- posing place enclosed within a red and white striped wall crowned with tridents that look like a vandalism deterrent. At the entrance are three skulls skewered on a trident, symbolizing Brahma, Siva and Vishnu as one being. On the top of the gate sits a large lotus flower. Aghoris are a Saivite Hindu sect believed to have

August 2012 13 split off from the tantric Kapilaka order that dates back to 1000 bce. It’s mostly comprised of ascetic sadhus, but here in Varanasi, the ashram is filled with seem- ingly normal people. A means not and ghor means awful, difficult. So, Aghor is the easy path – a natural and spon- taneous state of consciousness. It’s not a cult or a religion. It’s a state of reality you can experience in any tradition or ideology. Aghor is an ancient spiritual discipline that removes feelings of fear, hatred, disgust or discrimination. It’s the path of utter love and devotion. Of course, you wouldn’t think this to look at the aghoris. In fact, most people find them repulsive and quite terrify- ing. The most serious aghoris live in the charnel grounds, dress in rags, and smear white cremation ash on their bodies and dreadlocks to look like Siva. They cook their food on the cremation pyres, use skulls as their eating bowls and sleep on graves. Sometimes, in ritu- als, they even eat the brains and flesh of rotting corpses. What they are really do- ing is trying to overcome their own feel- ings of disgust and embrace everything as a pure and divine emanation of Siva (pure consciousness). Our fear of death holds a great amount of energy and the best way to overcome it is to confront it. Then we realise that we’re not the ‘body,’ but pure consciousness. If we look inside our mind we see that fear is just a concept. Fear is not real. The more we detest something, have aversions to things, the more energy we invest into it and the worse it becomes. Aghor teaches that if we can remove our judgments, opinions, and the stain of our ‘view,’ we can dissolve these imaginary borders and feel divinity in all things. A big part of being an Aghori is embracing the outcast – the lepers, prostitutes, wid- ows, the destitute, and all those scorned by regular society. They’re renowned for their compassion and charity work in areas that the rest of society disdains. We enter through the imposing gate that leads through large grounds to the main temple. The (graves) of the 16 previous Aghori babas flank the circumference. They all sit in padmasa- na (lotus pose), with the left leg in first indicating the tantric path, and are yog-

14 Issue 16 Volume 02 ins who chose the moment of their pass- swim in the greenish black water that sprawled on a bed. He is unwell. These ing. The actual body is inside a statue is legendary for its medicinal powers audiences are becoming scarcer. I sit of remarkable likeness. An Aghori priest and the healing of lepers. I gingerly down on the floor very close to him blesses me, dabs red tika paint between step into the tank up to my thighs and and his enormous smiling face is close my eyebrows, and gives me prasad. Un- feel the cold sensation of the water on to mine. I see the effort required to lift like most temples, where flowers and my skin. It feels unbelievably silky and his head. Instead of asking him ques- bananas are given, here we get crema- smooth, like velvet, and has a magnetic tions, I simply hold his hand and feel tion ash from the wood at Manikarnika power that draws me deeper. I feel the a genuine outpouring of love for him. Ghat. I approach the dhuni (sacred fire) thousands of years of devotion, prayer For a second, I worry that this might that has burned continuously for 400 and love that have been poured into the not be an appropriate action, hoping years, cleanse my body with smoke, and river. that my touch will not pollute a holy turn three times in an anti-clockwise being, but instantly it feels right. Per- direction. I then sit down and eat my There is an indefinable mysterious pow- haps it’s the magic of the Ganga water, Prasad. It tastes like ash and coats the er that pervades everything. I feel it al- but a tremendous compassion rises up inside of my mouth. I like the taste of though I don’t see it. It is this unseen power in me and my heart opens. I feel pure charcoal and this is not much different. that makes itself felt, yet defies all proof. It grace. In retrospect, I think this was I believe it’s pure, divinely blessed, and transcends the senses. Everything around a kind of darshan, or direct transmis- will not harm me. Perhaps because there me is ever changing, ever dying … under- sion, in whcih he shared the essence are so few people here on this particular lying all that change is a living power that of the Aghori path with me – kind- evening, or because of the strange en- is changeless, that holds all together, that ness – where all spiritual paths aim to ergy of the place, I fall into deep media- creates, dissolves and recreates. dissolve boundaries between people tion. There is something oddly comfort- Gandhi allowing for spontaneous connection ing here. and a recognition that we are really all Behind the temple is a curious tank Suddenly, Umesh announces that one. Walking back to the hotel I feel and in the darkness it looks ominous. the Baba will see us. I enter a small I’m lighter than air, as if I’m floating Large black pre-historic looking fish room where a very large Aghori is lying on new Ganga legs.

August 2012 15 E T H E R an intricate web of 56 pilgrimage cir- mundi is similar to kundalini in Laya cuits, five of which surround the city in Yoga and other tantric practices where aranasi has had many names, concentric circles. The circumference of energy rises up the sushumna nadi and Vbut by 2 bce, the words ‘Varanasi’ the outer pradaktion, or Panchakroshi, pierces the chakras as it ascends. and ‘Kashi’ became synonymous for the defines a sacred space; all beings that die Varanasi is the mesocosmos in which holy city. Varanasi refers to the urban inside its boundaries are granted mok- the human complexity of the microcom- settlement, Kashi is the sacred realm sha by Siva. sos and the cosmic-temporal stability of encircled by the outermost pilgrimage Kashi is the physical expression of the macrocosmos come together. The circuit. The term Kashi means ‘concen- cosmic order with Vishvanath temple epicenter of the world is Jnanavapi Kupa, tration of cosmic light,’ and is first used as its innermost sanctuary protected the ‘well of wisdom’ or jyotilingam in in the Atharva Veda (V.22.4), a 15 BCE by successive shells. According to P. B. Kashi Vishvanath Temple. It’s here that text that says, “Kashi shines and illumi- Singh in Banares Region: A Spiritual & Siva dug into the earth with his trident to nates the universe. Kashi makes moksha Cultural Guide, many sacred sites in In- cool the lingam. The waters that sprang (liberation) dawn on everyone by giving dia duplicate a celestial realm and reflect up were the liquid form of jnana, the wisdom." cosmos-magical power. Kashi is a celes- light of wisdom. The act of circumam- It’s true that when you enter Varanasi, tial–archetypal city where three parallel bulation around the symbolic center of you feel reborn into a sacred cosmos. The realities exist together as a sacred spatial the universe enables pilgrims to perceive light is luminous and I feel that magic system. If one walks the pilgrimage cir- the universe in its entirety, to experience could arise at any moment. There really cuits, the cosmogram is made spatially and imitate the primordial rhythm of the is something ‘out of this world’ going visible, weaving together the macro- cosmos, and ultimately to merge with on here. Kashi is said to exist in time cosmos (cosmos/heaven), mesososmos the cosmos and the Absolute. and space separate from other places in (material world/earth) and microco- The five pilgrim circuits (Caurasik- this world. It is believed to be the em- mos (temple/human body). These three roshi, Panchakroshi, Nagara Pradak- bodiment of heaven on earth. Interest- realms come together around a central shina, Avimukta and Antargrha) repre- ingly, it’s a place organized by pilgrims, axis on which the cosmos turns, and is sent the five elements (earth/water/fire/ rather than kings. Kashi is said to be a considered to be a communication link wind/ether), five parts of the human ‘cosmogram,’ or mandala, comprised of between heaven and earth. This axis body (head/legs/face/blood/heart), five

16 Issue 16 Volume 02 stages of transcendental power (con- sciousness/action/cognition/wisdom/ bliss), the five sheaths (food/mind/ breath/intellect/bliss), and the corre- sponding sacred number of shrines/im- ages on the route, to merge the human and the divine. I can’t tell you any more, as I honestly don’t know. The concept alone is sublimely beautiful, but almost incomprehensible to my not-so-subtle mind. It is certainly beyond the scope of my intellect. The only way to realise a city believed to be ‘out of this world’ is to experience it through walking. And millions of pilgrims have tread on the path that leads them from outer to in- ner space. As a modern yogi running out of time, I jump on the back of Umesh’s scooter and travel out into the ether and circumambulate the Pancakroshi Yatra in one afternoon. This cosmic circuit is one of the oldest pilgrim routes in India. It’s 55 miles/88.5 km in length, takes five days to walk, and has 108 shrines along the way. The number 108 refers to 12 months in a year (or 12 zodiacs of the cosmic circuit) x the 9 planets in Hindu cosmology. I have no idea I’m inside a sacred mandala, nor do I under- stand the symbolism of the yatra, but I experience the five gross elements in my body and they are blissful. If only the gods were so lucky to feel human form. Sounds become vibration, wind touches my heart, I smell the earth, taste the wa- ter in sacred tanks, and my inner agni (fire) is ignited in ancient shrines, where I both see and am seen by the residing deity. I listen both to the vibration from the scooter's motor and the sound of AUM in my heart. There are beautiful temples situated on exquisite tanks, sa- cred fields, stone carvings of yogis and goddesses, mud-waddled houses and piles of cow dung patties, chai shops – all dotted along a rural landscape seem- ingly untouched by the modern world. I understand the importance of effort and intention on a spiritual path and have utmost respect for the pilgrims. It must be incredibly powerful to actually walk this route, and pray at each shrine with full knowledge as to who the de- ity is and what it represents, as well as to witness day dissolving into night, the

August 2012 17 motion of the planet, to feel a part of both preserved from the ravages of insight. I’m not sure how to drag myself the cosmos. Even on a motorbike, I like time and that time has indeed taken away, except to say that my excellent to believe that once inside the mandala, its toll. “It is not Kashi itself which guide puts me safely on to a train head- its magical force, seen or unseen, will has degenerated, but man’s ability to ing north. As I board the train he hands realign my own being with the cos- perceive it. The soil is gold, the city me two polished iron rings, sliced from mic spatial system, purify my karmic is suspended in space and Siva does the boat ring, and they fit perfectly. I actions, transform physical substance wander in it daily; and if we cannot feel the heaviness of Pluto recede be- with the power of the spirit, allow me see all this it is because we do not have hind the clouds. to see the divine light, merge with all the ‘divine sight’ of a yogi.” that is around me, and move closer to I’ll be forever grateful to my brilliant Om Namah Sivaya. my own liberation. guide, Umesh, who revealed the magic In Jonathan P. Parry’s book, Death of his city, this most sacred of holy cit- Heather Elton is a yogini, writer and in Benares, he writes that Kashi is ies, with genuine devotion and yogic photographer living in London.

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