Hassan Montage

Hassan Montage

Retrospective windmills chased down,
Future power now- a hillside of forest turned to energy.
The journey's start: a series of double-takes and backtracks, three trips before the train, third destination settled on hours before departure.

Who am I when I have lost my way?

Heading out in the rain without a coat without a hat without boots--- who packed my bags?
Truck-stop industrial, one-park, one market, one bus station, walk in mud and grime and...
Hotel Sri Krishna provides.
Hassan welcomes with food and shelter for the night.
Now with TV-
Now with weather reports of storms-
Now storms bring terrors from the Seas on both coasts-
Cyclones and floods to the East
Gunfire and grenades in the West

Daytime provides glimpses
Of struggle and salvation
The stares turn to leers turn to points turn to laughs
And I turn away
Again I feel alone on the packed street
Find my strength in my own gaze

Crow curbside found a feast in a mouse
Tattered red dress barely contains the five year old
She takes the banana offered
Across the street- old woman
Gaping mouth draws flies is she still yet alive?

Two days almost two too long
Chance to turn the tide
Chance to change the weather
Searching for a signpost
Best Information Center in the book
Kannada speaking clerk offers the seats and hands the phone
Manager gives little English only and doesn't help

And the true purpose of the trip seems so far away
Trying to get out of town
Trying to find the way
Twenty busses twenty signs no English but plenty of stares
Ask five people and the answer becomes tenfold

Salvation!
Three busses, nine coffees, eleven temples
Redemption in the rain
Cleansed by Fire and Water
Purified in Air and on Stone
I found Spirit along the way

50-cent train delivers, but be quick!
Two minutes only to get on or off
Waiting to become human luggage again
Tattoo becomes testament, interaction, symbol of will
Now accepted enough,
For hours I ride lotus in a standing-room-only crowd

Mysore is green, I am home

--- aeryk ---

A Cherished Haunting

An all too common sight- beauty and the familial become forgotten at the crossroads. The abandoned dwelling lay lost, forgotten, it's neighbor turning and eye, raising a hedge to block the blemish on the block. An ornate and significant arch spans above the door, welcoming and blessing the family no more. The race is on! Will this place of salvation be overrun and strangled with greenery to be pulled back into the Earth? Or will it be given a quicker transition, smashed and carried away in bucket fulls to become the next domicile, next to another haunting abandoned shell?

--- aeryk ---

The Scoop, the Dirt, the Word on the Street

We know you've been waiting. Here's some words on the yoga...

We have been in the Shala a full three weeks now and have fully settled in to our routine, meaning that this is the first week without a missing day for holiday, moon, etc.

The Shala has many students these days. Last time we were here we began with something around a 6:30 am time slot and arrived at the coveted 5:00 am time slot by our second month. This time we considered ourselves lucky to receive a starting time slot of 7:45. Main Shala students begin as late as 8:30 these days, and the first time is now 4:45 (which is actually 4:30 am, as Shala time is always 15 minutes earlier than reality). As students progress in seniority per trip they receive increasingly earlier time slots in 15 minute increments, always dreaming of the day they will be the first ones in the door in the morning.

Sharath has given us three time slot premotions in three weeks, not too bad. 7 am seems very late, but we're on our way to early. Led classes are at 4:45 am and 6 am. We are currently in the 6 am group on Fridays and Sundays.

Those who have the first time slot on Mysore days cluster around the door before 4:30 am. When the door is opened they rush in...older more advanced students taking the front row, newer students taking pretty much any other spot, but having to negotiate with each other for preferred spaces, like not up on the stage, on a carpeting seam, or on the edge of the men's restroom. The next time slot is 5:45, then 6am, 6:15, etc. The entry room fills up with yogis with these assigned time slots, and Sharath and Saraswati will call "One More!" repeatedly over the morning to tell students when to come in. Waiting at the entry door is exactly like waiting to jump out of an airplane. You have your mat bag unzipped and you are ready to launch. The trickiest element here is knowing who goes next. Sharath will get irritated if there is any pause in coming forward, yet it can go very wrong if you think you are next and he thinks it should be a different yogi. Therefore there is some hesitancy at times with newer shyer students, just trying to figure these things out. The general rule is, first in the entry goes first in the room, Unless ...someone else walks in who is certified, authorized, or simply has more seniority than you, or maybe Sharath likes a little better. Thus far Aeryk and I have been shown a fair bit of preference...if he comes to the entry room door and sees us, as he did this morning, he will point to us and say "you next - then you", even if we were the last in the door. It does take the pressure off. One young man this morning was so scared to take his turn because one day he had been sent back out three times and barked at by Sharath for overstepping his place. This may now explain to you why it is everyone wants to be the first in the door at 4:30 am!

As odd as all this may sound, the Shala is my preferred spot on the planet right now. There are many things I am enjoying even more this trip than in the past. Sharath seems happier and more relaxed, in spite of or maybe because of rumors that he will be taking a long break from teaching soon. Really, though, I think it is because now he is fully in charge of the Shala. When we were here before, Guruji was still actively teaching, and there was at times a friction or confusion between them. When Sharath was away, students would ease up, break rules, have a bit of fun. Then Sharath would return and with him, the SmackDown! Now everything is always extremely disciplined, but also very calm and stable. Sharath seems very at ease, and we all know what to expect. Or if we don't know, we learn fast!

How the yoga here works: On your first visit, even if you just came off of tour with Cirque du Soleil, you start with Primary series only for your first month. If you cannot complete any posture of primary series, you get stopped at that pose until you can. There are some exceptions to that rule, mainly pertaining to time in or the overall quality of your practice. Many students are not even allowed to do backbending at the end of their practice during the week, or must do them on the marble floors of the restroom with the other finishing postures. If you have completed primary, you will slowly, one pose at a time and usually not more than one in any week, receive second series. This usually happens on month two, three or beyond. On subsequent visits you must return to only primary series for one week, then you can resume to the place you were at on your last trip. By the third week more postures may be added. This is where Aeryk and I are...we received far more this week than I expected, but after this I expect to recieve dribbles of second series only. Aeryk is ahead of me by one posture, as he was on our last visit. At this point it is not about being stopped at level of ability. Aeryk is "on" a posture he completes beautifully. He will be graced to the next one soon enough. We would be stopped if we came to a posture we could not complete. Sharath seems pleased with us, or at least, we haven't received any of his displeasure.

At the end of practice every day is the only posture we get adjusted in, the big ankle grabbing backbend. It is really nice to get adjusted in this every day, something I don't get at home. It is also good that we, thus far, have been strictly limited to the sequence of exactly 3 pushed up from the floor, 3 dropped back and stood up, and 3 "half backs" followed by the big one at the end. While I think my body would prefer to drop back many more times as I would do at home, I think it is super healthy for my mind to just have to do it without much warming up. Sharath or Saraswati is usually waiting at the front of our mats when we are dropping back and standing up. I assure you that if you can stand up gracefully with them standing there, you become master of urdhva dhanurasana!

Conference is held on Sunday afternoons. Now it is very strict, only registered students can attend. Sometimes Guruji makes an appearance, sits up on his throne and smiles at us all. Sharath sits on the floor of the stage and gathers us all as close as we can manage. He sits and talks with us, and answers any questions students ask. It is really lovely, though sometimes sweatier than the morning yoga!

Thus far, we have heard, we should all read the Bhagavad Gita again, preferably a copy from the RamaKrishna Ashram up the road. (I've already bought my new copy). We have been told we should include 20 minutes of chanting after our practice each morning, at home. Sharath has spoken on the importance of diet, mainly the import of having a vegetarian diet, in our practice, both for health and for Ahimsa (non harming). He has emphasized the need for us to follow the Yamas and Niyamas in the Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. He has talked about service, about having your employment be a form of service to others. He cracks a few jokes. I find myself really embracing Sharath as my teacher, this time in Mysore. I am trusting him and his vision, and ceasing to second guess his methods.

It is late now in Gokulam, and practice is at 5:45 tomorrow, so I should wrap this up. Sharath's led class is so deliciously hard, I wish you could all see me shaking in Navasana, maybe even cheating during the final lift at the end! I'll need some rest, or as Sharath said last week when we all seemed to wipe out, "More Chapatis!"

Vivian

Quick Farm Report

We found out last week that there are a few pigs left in Mysore. Present in this litter was an albino; the cutest, runtiest, soon to be a kids-moviest little squealer you could ever imagine. I tried for a close-up, but it was so small I've had papayas bigger since I've been here. The mama pig was not going to let me get a close-up. Here she comes out of nowhere, scurrying them away quicker than the Jonas Brothers after playing a gig at St. Mary's School for Wayward Girls. The goats however, did not run quickly. Or at all. They were hunkered down across this stretch of grassy lot for a bit of lunch. I stopped counting after 30, but guessed the herd to be 60 strong. These may be a part of the same herd I saw last time... they probably have their usual migration patterns around town. I was too slow to get a photo, but I saw 4 wild ponies crossing the street yesterday. That's the quick farm report.

--- aeryk ---

"108, 108, 108..."

I had to comment on this. I took a picture of this building last time I was here because I was captivated by the Seuss-like slope of the Eastern wall. I had hoped that it represented a very lit ramp, and not a foundation that had finally settled. It looks like one architect planned for three stories, but the window department was only available for two, so they compromised. The scary part is that this was a Hospital. Now, it is under renovation. The windows on the South side already show a makeover, each receiving a small balcony. Workers were scampering in and out of the West side, the whole wall gone, some carrying in goods like cement, brick, stone on the ground floor; others two or three flights up filling in the holes that used to be passages or windows. Safety is relative. In the foreground corner you can see a rarity in India: Western-style steel scaffolding. Most of the work is still done with wood beams and rope, whether it's an addition to an existing structure or something from the ground up. My guess is that this will become an apartment building. Incidently, just after we arrived Karnataka State implemented their quick response medical emergency hotline number. If there were an emergency at home, you wouldn't yell "Hey, somebody, My leg fell off-- go call that quick-response-medical-emergency-hotline-number!" You would calmly say "Holy crud-- call 911 !" In fact, maybe the whole interaction would be: "You O.K.?" --- "911, 911, 911..." and you'd know. Here they have another important number--- 108. Yes, when you are in India and you have just been trampled by a herd of goats, on ox cart, or a rickshaw, just repeat "108, 108, 108..." like a mantra and someone will surely understand that you need an ambulance. Then you can be taken to the nearest Hospital.

--- aeryk ---

Tomorrow Moon Slipped Away

Late Moon
Set down too soon
Late Moon
Set down to rise
Sleepily tomorrow, less full
Yesterday too much Future to hold
Spill over our Thoughts
Spill over our Desires
Rise again tomorrow softer yet
Rise again tomorrow

--- Aeryk ---

How to Get a Lighter, An Indian Primer

Suppose you want to get a lighter for something, say incense, candles, propane stove, any need at all for a hand-held flame. Maybe there are matches all around and you just prefer the feel and control of 'Manual Flaming.' It's your fire. You'd think that you could just pop down to the supermarket and pick one up at the register- or at a coffee shop that also sells tobacco products. You would be thinking Western. In India, you need to go to a Provisionist who sells provisions, things to live on; lighters, buckets, bangles and hair care products. When you ask for a lighter and have exact change, the transaction may end there if you don't get sucked into additional purchases. If you don't have exact change they won't either, and you will be forced to buy three. But that's fine, you rationalize, these things are like 2-for-a-buck at 7-11 anyway and these are 3/$1. Always light up in the store. I don't mean the incense, but the lighter. Try it out, make sure there is fluid in them. If you don't you will get home to find that they are not only low on fuel, but only have half of the usual capacity. But don't let that get you down. They are set on "Encore" setting, so large Iron Maiden can see them backstage and MUST hit the stage for three more numbers! The other half of the lighter has been altered and is now a flashlight. You can now look deep in your bag for your smokes or whathaveyou without setting your hair on fire. These India-flavored flashlights are very festive. Here's what I got in mine! I'm not sure if they are Bollywood babes, but I think I'm gonna go through a lot of incense while I'm here...

---Aeryk---

Election viewed from Afar

Watching the American election from India was amazing. Trying to get news with a 13 1/2 hour time difference with constant power outages at an internet cafe was crazy in itself.

What stands out the most is the number of people, from countries all over the world, that have approached to congratulate me on the election. People from all over Europe and Asia have expressed happiness for me. In the past when we traveled here we would often respond when asked that we were from Canada, just to avoid negativity about our politics. It feels really different now to be out in the world as an American without shame.

A week later, India is still talking about it. Obama makes front page news here every day.

Vivian

Electricity, Part ll

The other thing I need to say about the electricity her in India, is that the logic behind it all seems to take different circuits, pun intended. The voltage here is 220, compared to our 110, so everything I bring from the US must have not only an adapter for the plug end (a two to three flat prong for a two round pin plug) but a voltage regulator as well lest I blow it up! Everything else here is applied in the closest most unsightly at times places. It is common to see extension cords overloaded or running outside and up a flight of stairs for some reason. It's for something... My apartment is no different. I have halogen bulbs sticking out of the walls, and in this picture you can see behind me the only covered light- IN THE SHOWER ! Yes, I need to see those hard to reach areas, but it isn't even enough light to shave by in the mirror 4 feet away. Incidently, that red light in the panel behind me indicates that the power is on and my hot water heater is warming up. That's it, white & to the left. You can see the plug with the white attachment and black cord running practically through my shower stream. To turn it off, I must flip the switch right under the red light, which sparks a bit sometimes. If I do this quickly while standing in the pool of water, I may only get shocked a bit. I hope to write again soon-

--- aeryk ---

Monkey Attack!

One thing I love about India is the amount of entertainment one can receive without ever leaving home. Yesterday for example... After yoga, just as Aeryk and I were sitting down for a little rest, snarls and squeals called us to the window. A troupe of monkeys were laying siege to the house, swinging off the coconut trees and on to our balconies and roof to steal the vegetables growing on the roof garden. Our landlady's dog Ruby was incenced, barking and running up and down the stairs trying to catch them. They growled and laughed at her, making their way back to the trees vegetables in paw. This continued all day, as long as the good food lasted, these monkeys had moved into the neighborhood.

A little later in the day, I was called to the window again by a very festive drumming procession. In this case I was witnessing an Indian funeral procession. I hope when I die my friends will send me off so well. The deceased sits enthroned in a portable pavilion of flowers, carried all around the neighborhood so that all can know about the passing. Men drumming take the lead, then the deceased, then more family and friends, and if one is well loved, lots of weeping women.

Every day in India there are sounds and rituals. At five every morning there is the Islamic call to prayer to enjoy with my coffee. There is wondrous drumming daily at the Ganapati (Ganesha) Temple in view from my roof. And as the monkeys demonstrate, even if you try to hang back or lie low, the action in India comes right to your door.

Vivian

Electricity

There have been many advances in technology worldwide, India herself is quickly becoming a world superpower and celebrates the recent triumph of the lunar module encircling the moon as I write this. There is internet, landed and wireless, in almost every home that can afford it. Cell phones are seen on everyone but us. Despite this edge over our Earthly constraints, Mysore cannot get it together enough to figure out the power issue. The problems stem elsewhere, actually. Bangalore is currently in a bidding war with local power outlets and is reportedly letting the public know on Nov 13th, how screwed it will be on Nov 14th. We have currently been without power for a few hours each day, but it has increased to 12 hours without power in some areas. This us usually no big deal, but for us it means limited enjoyment of internet and other electric amenities. No stereo, no fan, no lights at night...we are running out of candles! Right now I am at Rishi's after having lunch outside at Anu's (where there is light) because the 'net-cafe' part has no backup generator. Two nights ago, I got up to turn down the stereo, when I realized that it wasn't on, that there had been music coming from down the street. At the end of the block was some sort of presentation/celebration being set-up. I took a look at the scene, being a fellow techie, and marveled at the grand scale of their low-budget hi-fi low-down on the throw-down. This roughly translates to "Wow. They sure get away with a lot here." They had set up a 3ft stage about 30 ft square, complete with a panel's table and eight chairs for dignitaries. Always a must for the outdoor ceremony in India: the metal podium. Heavy and hot. I flashed on Quai-Chang-Cain receiving his tiger and dragon scars lifting HIS hot, hot bowl of metal in the ever popular TV series, Kung Fu. Maybe you can also see behind the ice cream vendor the stack of hi-fi units. I think they used CD's and dual cassette action for this party. For five hours they pounded the airwaves with traditional adult contemporary music, and by that I mean the stuff your aunt would play if she were here. It's like Perry Como meets Carol Channing presenting a 50's Dharma Duel to the Death. Once in a while they would toss in a Bollywood hit, but again, it's like from the seventies, or something. A little side note on that ice cream vendor--- he goes around the neighborhood banging on a stick yelling, 'Ice Cream!' If they found out we have musical trucks running around, they would be soooo jealous. Back at the show, the speaker stacks are precariously placed on tables, eight to a set, all plugged in with freshly stripped and taped cables, one power cord running across the road with no cover. I guess the cattle know to lift their hooves. The sound is supplemented down the street for blocks with military surplus style metal speakers, like in M*A*S*H*. The Temple was lit up to match the drive in. Chairs were set for 100, and all this RIGHT ON THE ROAD! Yeah! these people can party! There was some announcing, a few live hits sung by kids, and more music until 11pm. In the morning everything was gone as if it never happened. Speaking of power, Rajini our hostess tells us our time is up. I must share the limited electricity.

--- Aeryk ---

Work Party, Part ll

Work Party, Part ll. So the street crew weren't done, as illustrated by these photos. They worked another part of Gokulam for a few days, then back to our street with a vengeance. The crew of 12 or so finished up filling on/stripping out potholes in preparation for the asphalt saturation to begin. The diesel engines roared to life at 4 a.m. and the ensuing mad dash to finish began. Steam rollers followed the dump-crew who shoveled out the mix. These guys are pro's in a tight corner. They double-parked, parallel-parked, drove backwards around palm trees... WAAAAAAY more than any of us ever had to do for our driver's license test! Then, with the street mostly blocked off (this is still India) they finished off, coating the street in a wonderland dusting of snowy-white sand which crunches under our sandals almost like snow. If you click on the pictures, they should come full screen. Look at all the cool machines! Savor the almost soft to the touch sands in the 'archway shot.' That arch is new, so new that they haven't painted it up in 70 colors or so. This is next to the street sweepers village, housing a different street crew. After the flury on our block, as the last picture shows, they revved up their engines and sped across the busy street to work alongside the Ganapati Temple for a few blocks, and I never saw them again.

--- Aeryk ---

The Vantage

Here is the view from our apartment. At the far end is the main road where the white and blue bus is whizzing by. Beyond it lay the Ganapati Temple in white, our source of bells and chanting nightly. Between here and there is the usual variety of side-street activity; scooters, pedestrians, auto-rickshaws waiting for customers, cars and motorcycles. As you may notice, the road is quite shoddy by our standards but fairly adequate by theirs. That was my impression until yesterday. Yesterday the street team came to work. This entailed 10-hour days of ten men squatting and sweeping or shoveling or pick-ax-ing or whatever need to be done with the road debris. I can see how the body can be predisposed for certain asana based on what movement life gives us in repetition. Around here, open hips are the norm. Almost everybody (of the working classes) is fit from a hard days work. After this hard day, I saw that there were indeed piles of rock at the sides of the street, but the potholes weren't filled in, nor were the bumps smoothed out. Maybe this is just the first phase or maybe this is all they do, spruce it up. Clean it bachelor-style. There was also the coconut fetcher who climbed up Shobha's trees to knock down the next harvest. No rope, just a good grip on the tree and machette. Both times, despite the deadly elements threatening the street, life went on and around the problem. Scooter riders barely looked up when the coconuts fell nearby with our landlady directing traffic in her own way. As the street crew worked, the main street was blocked off at one end by a few stones to remind people to slow down when swerving around a squatting sweeper. I'm soon off to run an errand, and I will be sure to look both ways before crossing the street.
--- aeryk ---

At home in Gokulam

Here I am, happy and warm in Mysore. This picture shows the stairs to my apartment, upstairs in a three part house. Our place is the closest to the roof so I can stand up in the coconut trees and watch everything going on in the neighborhood.

The prevailing theme of my first two weeks in India is change, changes around me and changes in me.
When we first arrived in Bangalore I thought for a moment I had come to the wrong India. The airport is brand new, fancy, and clean - so completely different from the bustling chaotic dingy airport I expected to see.

Much has changed in Gokulam since we were here last, 20 months ago. The pigs that used to own the streets have mysteriously disappeared, as have most of the street dogs, and street children. The neighborhood seems quieter and cleaner. That being said, we showed up right in the middle of Diwali festival -, several days of celebrating, mostly with loud firecrackers and mini explosions.

Other than obvious external changes, coming back is showing me how deeply I have changed in the last couple of years. I am so much more relaxed here than I remembered from before. Joining into the flow of India seems so natural. All the scents, even the unpleasant ones, have some nostalgic appeal, so everything I experience I am greeting with happiness. Sleep comes easily, the crazy night sounds just flow over and around me.

I know I told everyone I needed to return to India to study yoga. Now I am accepting the truth - I came to eat fruit!

Vivian