Hari Om!
(Writing this as I continue to float in the mellow afterglow of an awesome trip…)
Friday morning, when sleep was rudely interrupted by my alarm at 4:30 a.m., I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into. Fun and necessary though Satsangs are for my well-being, a whole weekend of good people and good behaviour seemed rather ambitious. Recalling familiar voices from a past Satsang, I decided to simply live in the now.
Two and a half hours, a Suprabhatam, and a Sahasranamam later, the now rewarded discriminating palates — millet and aval upmas, delicately spiced parathas. Feeling refreshed, we let the snappy folks do their photos, then left the Foster’s Freeze owner to marvel at the exotic nature of his garbage that day.
The now moved forward a few hours as we caught the tail end of the Mandukya Upanishad at Krishnalaya — a serene haven where mountains meet a river, and the Wi-Fi politely declines to exist. Bharati led us through its lush calm before we entered Tejomayananda Guruji’s chamber, where at least one of us was reprimanded for asking a rather bold question: “Can we have our own Acharya?” Duly chastened, we moved on to lunch.
We watched the Acharyas perform their Bhiksha that day — gracefully, reverently, with the quiet focus of those who have mastered both patience and portion control. We watched and learned. Mostly what not to do at our own Bhiksha the next day.
Settled and refreshed, we returned to Krishnalaya in time for tea, coffee, and Vedic chanting led by the endearing and occasionally hilarious Sharada Acharya — verses from Soundarya Lahari and Rudram that filled the mountain air beautifully.
Our first encounter with Nanak — also known as Guru and Krishna, depending on what he was carrying at the time — came by way of large plastic tubs and an endless, saintly patience for other people’s dirty dishes. We filed this away for later.
Special mention must be made of Sridhar’s meticulous planning and the inadvertent Sitcom of The Standing Moms. While most of us were comfortable with the allotted space, at least three of our friends made a point of visiting the rest of us — and our facilities — with impressive frequency. We also mounted a brief expedition to find a honeymoon suite for Sujatha and her mother, which felt like the right thing to do.
Friday was Guru Poornima. As moonlight bathed the ashram, we soaked in Guruji’s words on the significance of the day and the opening verses of the Bhagavatam. Dinner was divine. The vegetable cutting, however, became an unexpectedly competitive team sport — and Nanak, presiding over the kitchen with the equanimity of a man who has seen everything, bore it all with grace
Saturday began serenely with Arpeeta-ji’s guided meditation. After breakfast, we returned to the library for more Mandukya Upanishad, followed by Bela Pandya’s Satsang — a thoughtful exploration of what it truly means to seek. Spoiler: it has nothing to do with finding Kris Balaji’s missing BV bag or the elusive Wi-Fi password.
Lunch Bhiksha was ours to host, and we rose to the occasion with great enthusiasm and even greater confusion. We served, we sang — in perfect unison, or so we believed. The Acharyas may have achieved peace through discipline; we achieved indigestion through enthusiasm.
The evening’s cultural show revealed the Acharyas’ delightful alter egos — melodious singers, witty performers, and one brave soul with bagpipes who nearly scared enlightenment into us.
By Sunday, we had elevated ourselves to kitchen professionals — or so we told ourselves. We marched in confidently, lifted Nanak’s sacred tubs, and took over his dish rounds with the swagger of people who have washed dishes exactly once before. His expression suggested he was reconsidering his vow of equanimity.
At the end of three days, none of us was eager to say Hari Om and head home. But drive home we did — some with speed, others with more stories still waiting to be told (do tell!).
In conclusion, living in the now, then, was far easier than living in the now, now.
Hari Om!