India, Day 4

Got up at 4.45am to attend the 5am prayers and meditation session. I had an unusually hard time getting up, which I reckon has got to do with eating capatis last nite; once again wheat makes me feel so sluggish! The Shrine is already filled up as I get there. Women all wearing white clothing or scarves, and I’m all in my dry-fit Nike blacks. The sheep. Everybody is in a deep state of meditation. I admit to myself that I do not know how to meditate. I look around me like a child seeking a sister soul for acknowledgment that I’m not alone in my inability to meditate. My thoughts are random, unfocused. I read a few pages before coming to the session last nite. It’s not helping- it says one must be able to give up all his possessions, be freed of all material desires to be truly capable of meditation. I look around me – would that be the case? The Caucasian ladies who look like monks sing the loudest, they look more pious than the men, they give more patronising looks than needed. They remind me off any religious converts who advocate their new religion stronger than people born with it.
Breakfast is at 7am – my favourite idli with sambar and coconut chuttney. "I’m loving it!". I run down over the bridge to the other side of the Ganges to start my first yoga class with Sharuk. It’s a 2-hour class with a great emphasis on correct astanas, rather than the flows and rhythms. This is what Ieyngar is all about. The precision can drive one mad, but once you endure the session, you do appreciate it for the benefits it brings. It’s a 2-week course and I jump in the middle of it. 2 hours pass very quickly and I decide to come back tonite. Each session is USD 4. Wow. The class is very popular, half of the crowd are Israelis. I go for breakie #2 after the class, a group of 5 other people join me; 3 Israelis, 1 Brit, 1 Spaniard. I ask what is it with the Israeli influx to the most holy place in India. They all smile, as this must be the most common question. They come to relax after the military service; 2 yours for girls and 3 years for guys. With government salary of USD 2000 given to start a new life, most of them choose to travel. My table friends are all well travelled, speak a few languages. The girl’s surname is Kirchenberg (kirchen in german is ‘cherry’), her grandparents escaped Poland in 1945. The Brit spent too much time in Darmasalam, where he finished putting together an album, pop music with sounds recorded in Israel, UK, India. He uses a pirated Mac software to put them all together. He disapproves of the term "world music", I agree with him, but defend the term asking what better name would he have given it.
I spend the rest of the afternoon discovering some great beaches along the Ganges River. I see people swimming in it. I dip my feet, too cold to consider anything further. Along the way, wisemen ask me if a want to smoke. I head back to the 2nd yoga session of the day. Our yogi is the commander chief, he yells and scolds us, upsetting some people who leave the class. I like it nevertheless. Dinner with a young Israeli couple. They learn about Malaysia, I about Israel in our Q&A session. It’s pleasantly surprising how balanced, worldly and friendly they are in spite of the history of their country.
On the way to my room, I pass Samadi Shrine where the evening prayers take place from 730 to 930pm. I’m too tired to attend, feeling guilty I continue walking. My welcome letter to the ashram states that scholars should attend the spiritual sessions, especially the evening ones. In the past 3 days I’ve been fairly uninvolved and feel guilty to abuse their hospitality. I will make a good donation, but I know it’s not about the money. See, like today morning the American-born monk was talking about how he had a visitor, who enlighted him on his new mobile phone. The monk articulated the phone features like in a TV commercial. He then paused and said " "What does this phone mean to you? Would you be able to give it up to live a simple, unobstructed life, filled with happiness?" And I think how much I love my iPod, how I love the idea of going to LimeWire and downloading Ravi Shankar’s album when I get back, how I bitch, but love my job, the personal development I have undergone in the past few years. I’m on one side of the spectrum. The Shivananda monk is on the other. As much as I may lack the spiritual depth and finesse, I conclude in my simplistic earthly mind that maybe this is all about finding a balance, a mid-point of it all. A balance that will make me happy with my 40GB iPod and stop thinking of the 60Gb one – as it is sheer greed. A balance that will make me find a charitable cause that appeals to me, and makes me channel 5% of my income to them. I think I will stick to that for now. With this thought, I think I can face another day at the ashram.