Pondi Reverie
It's my last day in Pondicherry.
I feel a little bit sad about leaving, mostly because I won't be able to bathe in the radiance of the Samadhi shrine so readily.
Last night the group meditation was held at The Playground. The Mother believed in physical fitness and this building is devoted to sports and exercise. I got a peek at the odd military style regime. Everyone is dressed in shorts (yes, even girls! Totally scandalous!)and the women wear peculiar white head wraps. They march up and down in formation and do a series of mechanical exercises while someone barks unintelligibly in French. Strangely, yoga asana don't seem to come into play at all in this ashram.
When they were done we sat in the sandy courtyard, which is a whole lot more comfortable than the Samadhi courtyard. There's a big controversial mural of India on one wall (it includes Pakistan and even Myanmar?) with the Mother's chair beneath it. She and Sri Aurobindo were very much engaged in politics and believers in an independent united India. Then, as I settled into the peace of meditation, loud organ music started up. I believe it is music composed by the Mother heself. Suprisingly, it was a wonderful meditation.
I rode home on the cycle-rickshaw like a Queen, feeling like the happiest person alive.
It's winter here, even though it feels about 30 most days. So many of the locals wear balaclavas which I suppose can serve a dual purpose of keeping the stink out. The 'river' that flows next to my guest house really reeks, especially at night. I go to sleep and wake up to the sounds of the slum next door. An old woman with a particularly grating voice always seems to be enraged by something.
I had to use a public loo with a few of these resilient old ladies camped outside. Their few remaining teeth stained red from chewing paan & betel, they held out flower chains and called 'Madame! Madame!' For a rupee I bought a beautiful daisy chain which they put in my hair.
This was one of the most delightful moments of my life. Outside a stinky loo surrounded by poverty there was only laughter.
I then watched the jaunty temple elephant, painted gaily, lifting his feet in a little dance and accepting offerings in return for a blessing from his trunk.
Au Revoir Pondy!
I feel a little bit sad about leaving, mostly because I won't be able to bathe in the radiance of the Samadhi shrine so readily.
Last night the group meditation was held at The Playground. The Mother believed in physical fitness and this building is devoted to sports and exercise. I got a peek at the odd military style regime. Everyone is dressed in shorts (yes, even girls! Totally scandalous!)and the women wear peculiar white head wraps. They march up and down in formation and do a series of mechanical exercises while someone barks unintelligibly in French. Strangely, yoga asana don't seem to come into play at all in this ashram.
When they were done we sat in the sandy courtyard, which is a whole lot more comfortable than the Samadhi courtyard. There's a big controversial mural of India on one wall (it includes Pakistan and even Myanmar?) with the Mother's chair beneath it. She and Sri Aurobindo were very much engaged in politics and believers in an independent united India. Then, as I settled into the peace of meditation, loud organ music started up. I believe it is music composed by the Mother heself. Suprisingly, it was a wonderful meditation.
I rode home on the cycle-rickshaw like a Queen, feeling like the happiest person alive.
It's winter here, even though it feels about 30 most days. So many of the locals wear balaclavas which I suppose can serve a dual purpose of keeping the stink out. The 'river' that flows next to my guest house really reeks, especially at night. I go to sleep and wake up to the sounds of the slum next door. An old woman with a particularly grating voice always seems to be enraged by something.
I had to use a public loo with a few of these resilient old ladies camped outside. Their few remaining teeth stained red from chewing paan & betel, they held out flower chains and called 'Madame! Madame!' For a rupee I bought a beautiful daisy chain which they put in my hair.
This was one of the most delightful moments of my life. Outside a stinky loo surrounded by poverty there was only laughter.
I then watched the jaunty temple elephant, painted gaily, lifting his feet in a little dance and accepting offerings in return for a blessing from his trunk.
Au Revoir Pondy!
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