Observation of an American and a Russian about India

An Observation of Russian Citizen on Visiting India

The first unexpected impression on arrival to India was a feeling of displacement, or rather, shifts in time. Time had changed in all senses: from almost surrealistic time zone shift (not for 2 or 3, but for 2.5 hours from Moscow time) up to sensation of change of an epoch in general. And it is not to say that you moved to a specific century. Here is a cocktail from all times: primitive simplicity, medieval way of life, elements of modern civilization and some incredible power of that bright future. But the main feature of the local time is the nonlinearity of its flow. On the one hand, it is senseless to plan anything here as the spontaneity of what is going on lies beyond any predictions.
On the other hand – time is so condensed, that events of one day could suffice for weeks or months of the usual life. It concerns not only quantities of the occurred meetings, trips, acquaintances and impressions, but more importantly - the power fullness of these events, their significance and magnitude.
On my returning back from India my friends met me with the playful offer to deliver a lecture "Varanasi - a city of contrasts". Reflecting on this topic, I realized that one of amazing feature of India was just the full absence of contrasts in general. Habitual stereotypes of the person of our, let it be relative, civilization crumbled from the first days of staying, like the house of cards.
In India, things that we are accustomed to consider opposite coexist in united time and space surprisingly organically. When, for example, you see the usual humdrum washing in ten meters from the funeral fires on the Coast of Ganges River, you understand that there is no boundary between life and death at all. The young snow-white dressed schoolgirl riding the bicycle with the background of ditches and ruins; Guruji, magically combining extra momentary reasoning about the transcendental things with the skilful use of hand-held camera or mobile phone; the improbable filth and shocking "aromas" of the streets...
...And nevertheless the praying condition of everyone, when for dialogue with God you don't need to go to temples (which are everywhere here) - the meditation is possible in any point of space: in sacred waters of Ganges River, among mountains of garbage or in front of an iron door of the locked container – all is sacred in the divine world. Castis omnia casta..
Here it is the embodied Advaita itself to which the sonmas of practising yoga aspire so much. Do visit India and you will feel that there is no place to seek for – in real life everything is already united, and the life itself is this Universal Unity, i.e. Yoga.


An American Observation on India

As I gaze out from my railway car window to view the passing scenery, my mind drifts in and out of reverie as I reflect back on these past six weeks that I have traveled in India.  My eyes drink in the various sites.  Golden fields of wheat, or fields of sugar cane, palm trees and bamboo groves, simple homes made from mud or brick and straw, some with clay tile roofs, form the backdrop against which life happens in India. 

The scenes are familiar to me now—young boys bathing in the river, or women doing their laundry there, with brightly coloured saris strewn on the river bank to dry in the hot day’s sun.  We pass by neatly piled stacks of cow dung to be used as fuel for cooking, as cows, water buffalo and goats graze in the fields nearby.  Women, having worked in the fields, carry their harvest in beautiful straw baskets that they balance so gracefully on their heads.  Children carrying bags or knapsacks agilely walk on the dirt roads as they make their way towards school.  At each station junction, vendors selling snacks or other wares abound—some of them even hop on board while the train is stopped at the station, attempting to sell their goods. 

Such are the sights of India from this railway car window.  India is indeed a land of contrast, and traveling in India is certainly not for the faint of heart.  Yet, in spite of this, it possesses an allure for travelers of almost mystic proportions. 

As a Westerner traveling to India for the first time, I had many opportunities to learn about even-mindedness, to learn to “accept all the changes”—especially since most of my time was spent in remote village areas in India.  Village life in India is quite different from the city life in North America to which I was accustomed.  Even something as simple as learning to use the Eastern style toilet system (squat style) was an adjustment for me.  Not to mention the fact that village life in India often means little or no electricity during the day, and also, quite often, no indoor plumbing—the only source of water coming from an outdoor hand pump. 

Needless to say, by Western standards, life in rural India is a challenge.  Yet the grace with which the villagers that I encountered in my travels handled their circumstances was an inspiration to me.  What amazed me even more was how freely they shared of what little they had.  Next to Yogi Satyam, whose classes and lectures were phenomenal, these villagers were my greatest teachers. 

As I reflect back on my experiences of these last six weeks, one incident in particular stands out as a pivotal moment.  It occurred one afternoon, shortly after I arrived in India, while staying at the ashram in Allahabad (before leaving for the villages).  As I sat out on the verandah in front of the Meditation Hall reading prior to the evening meditation class, I noticed two women helping out with the construction work being done at the ashram.  Each in turn would fill up a mesh plastic bag with cement, place it on top of her head and then walk with it to the kitchen area of the ashram where the construction work was occurring.  For quite some time these two women paraded back and forth in this manner.

At the time, I remember thinking how inefficient this process was.  From a Western perspective, it would have been much more efficient to use a wheel barrow or cart of some sort in order to transport a much larger quantity of cement all in one fell swoop.  I remember feeling quite strongly about this matter—so full of judgment was I!

Then, somehow, it dawned on me during the evening meditation class that I was being quite judgmental.  Who was to say that my way was right, or even better for that matter?  I came to the realization that what I had witnessed as I sat out in front of the Meditation Hall that afternoon was also a part of God’s creation—and so, it too, was beautiful.  As Kriyayoga teaches, I had to learn to “accept all the changes”.  That sudden realization was so powerful for me that it moved me to tears during my meditation.  

These are but a few of the experiences, reflections and realizations that have occurred for me during this journey to India.  It has been more than an incredible adventure for me.  It has been a life-changing experience, and spiritually, the most significant journey of my life.  How does one transition back to life in North America, with its orderliness, predictability and every convenience imaginable after the experience of these last six weeks?  O India, I will return!