During the weekdays the ashram was a classical traditional Guru-kula , school of training with the Guru. Discipline was the primary requirement of residents. There was just a small group of us living there full time , mostly westerners, several young Indian men and women who lived there and , a collection of retired older Indian devotees doing their vanaprashta thing , and a handful of swamis and priests. The Indian devotees used to say to us that we were extremely fortunate to be able to stay there for long periods, as mostly they could only come for brief holidays from school or work or family duties.
Baba had his own unique way of weeding out any hippie-type vagrant visitors who wandered through seeking a comfortable easy life. In those days .there were many such people, seeking a high through drugs or various practices, but not seriously interested in yoga or spiritual practices
If such visitors had come to the ashram, he would occasionally stride through the kitchen or courtyards with a stick shouting loudly in Hindi appearing very wrathful and terrifying. Later in the question and answer session he would laugh about how his frightful display had worked on the visitors-- they rolled up their sleeping bags and sneaked out the front gate and went on looking for a more hospitable place.
His anger was terrifying, but I could often see he used it skillfully. On another occasion he was striding around with his stick shouting at people for not being present in the evening chant. When he was in that mood, people dispersed very quickly. He came up to the area where I was working . “How was I?” he asked as he giggled and handed me a sweet from a bag he was carrying in his other hand.
In this traditional setting he was teaching us all aspects of yogic life through the on-going ashram routine, by his own example, and through spontaneous individual interactions.
He trained us to understand that meditation, samadhi was not some kind of trance, spaced out state. Swadhyaya, recitation of the various scriptural texts in Sanskrit, sometimes for six hours in a day, formed such a large part of the daily schedule. He taught us that we didn’t need to chase after Samadhi, that if we chanted the beautiful Sanskrit texts with full attention and devotion, meditation would chase after us. We had to sit attentively in the morning Guru Gita Chant, spine straight, holding the book high, concentrating intently as we chanted. If we slouched, we would be targeted with a small wooden block that he kept in a little tray on his table as missiles of mindfulness.
That was training for our meditation practice. In fact the careful recitation of the Sanskrit texts with attention to pronunciation and meter, was a profound pranayama practice, deeply affecting the harmony of our internal life force. And the resonance of the precise sounds of Sanskrit were making deep impressions on our subtle nervous channels, nadis. To this day, when I hear Sanskrit being recited I feel as though my inner nadis are subtly vibrating to the resonance. The teaching on matrika shakti from the Kashmir Shaivite texts actually describes how each letter of the Sanskrit alphabet is embedded in our subtle nerves, thus the power of the mantras.
He asked me to teach hatha yoga to the young students who came for school holidays and would give me advice on what and how to teach them. I taught Malti and her younger sister, Rani, yoga asanas on their holidays, under his clear instructions and learned about the application of principles of Ayurveda to hatha yoga. At that time there were no books available in English on Ayurveda, but through our daily life in the ashram he taught us about aspects of seasonal food and health and different body types. If we had the courage to ask about any personal health issue, we had to be willing to undertake traditional ayurvedic remedies. These could include, chewing on a bitter haritaki nut for constipation, drinking cows urine for an antibiotic , or peeing on an injury on our feet for cleansing.
He modelled and exposed us to the profound experiences of bhakti yoga through his devotion to this own Guru, known as Bhagawan Nityananda, and through his love of the devotional poems of the poet saints he would sing so melodiously. On occasion we would see his profound devotion as he wept in remembrance of his Guru.
Amma told a story of how one day she encountered Baba sitting on the steps, weeping. She asked him what was the matter? He replied that he missed his beloved Guru greatly. Amma being, of course, the good disciple said something about the inner Guru, who was eternally with his disciples. Baba’s reply was, “Yes, but sometimes you just fall in love.”
Sometimes in the very early morning, after meditating on the veranda outside of Baba’s room, I would follow him as he walked through to the temple. Peeking through the bars of the windows outside, I would watch as he paid his respects through a full length pranam, prostrating with his body outstretched on the floor. His humble devotion in those private moments, observed only by the priest (and myself or any others who were observing secretly ) was profoundly moving and inspiring.
Karma yoga, selfless service, was brought to life with the emphasis on Guru seva as such an important part of the ashram daily schedule. Learning to work for the sheer joy of it, rather than expecting a reward was a profound teaching of the Bhagavad Gita and the Indian devotees applied themselves to it with great devotion. I was continuously inspired by their example. They worked with such joy and humility always cheerful and generous spirited, often chanting devotional songs while working.
The contrast between the cultures brought opportunities for learning, and Baba made good use of them. We western students had no problems with doing physical work, cleaning toilets or gardening, and he would often admonish the Indian devotees about their own pride and caste consciousness in refusing to do menial work, which according to their culture was beneath their caste status. . In turn he would scold us for being so proud and arrogant, and lacking in the humble devotion that the Indians would express in the ashram.
He also taught us how to integrate and sustain levels of joy through the chanting and dancing saptahs- 7 day chants that went for 24 hours. He would raise the pitch and level of the chant to thrilling ecstatic levels and signal the drummer and harmonium player to hold them, showing us how to quietly extend and sustain those levels of joy without crashing out into unconsciousness or getting wildly overexcited. That was very helpful training in sustaining states of bliss in meditation.
On the weekend it was a totally different picture of Indian life. Saturday afternoon the buses would arrive from Bombay which was about two-three hours away by bus or train. People arrived carrying in offerings of baskets of food and flowers, as the regular Bombay devotees came in and the atmosphere completely changed from one of quiet meditation to a festive environment. Sunday morning Guru Gita was very lively with the devoted chanting of the Indians and visiting guest musicians who wanted to play for Baba, often special songs they had composed for him.
During the morning there was an endless line of people bringing flower garlands and baskets as offering to meet and pay respects to Baba. Often guest musicians, famous flute players, devotional singers or sitar players would play in the temple. At that time the courtyard took on the feel of a King’s court. Baba had an extraordinary regal quality and the ashram was his royal court rich with the artful elegance, colour and rasa of the beautiful rich Indian culture.
Also many visitors came for the day on Sunday, busloads would arrive and people would take tours through the gardens. Often devotees would offer special feasts for weddings or other occasions, and the simple ashram fare would be replaced with very rich, spicy, but delicious Indian delicacies. Sometimes I found the contrast of the quiet weekdays with their serene gentle rhythm and the weekend chaos overwhelming, and would hide myself in the meditation cave where there was quiet.
The years from 1971-74 were a unique time in the ashram as the ashram was not very developed, it was clean and reasonably comfortable and Baba personally oversaw all activities. There was sufficient time and peace in the environment to really enter into deep meditation practice. Such a rarefied environment with all the features conducive to deep meditation is something extremely rare. To this day, I appreciate the precious opportunity we had for profound and deep meditation practice.
After his second world tour from 1974-1976 the ashram became a busy place, and more activities such as courses, intensives, yagnas, and long chants were started to engage the many foreign visitors who came in specially chartered jumbo jets for short, intensive ashram experience.
In 1973 there was a terrible drought throughout India. India is very dependent on the rain fall of its yearly monsoon. If it is compromised in any way, lack of rain, the farmers would suffer terribly. One such year, the droughts drove people out of the rural areas and into the city looking for any possible work and food. At that time the ashram was very short on water, and we became aware of how difficult and precarious life could be in India. We were told that we could not use more than ½ bucket of water per day to do all of our laundry, bathing, washing hair, etc.
All I can say, is try to get by on that… but somehow we could manage and learned to use water so sparingly, pouring a little onto the clothes or body, sudsing with soap and then rinsing with a minimal amount of water.
During that time the ashram offered free food to hundreds of poor villagers and people who would congregate and come for lunch. They would push and shove and file into the dining hall. I remember seeing them leave with their lungis, wrapped with rice that they were taking home with them. One time I walked through the dining hall after several serves of lunch had been served to these people. I felt overcome by a huge cloud of a feeling of starvation, the feeling they had left there as they grabbed for food. For that brief moment I knew what It felt to be starving, and it;s something I have never forgotten, making me very aware of not wasting food or other resources, knowing that somewhere in the world are people who do not have adequate food, water or other resources to meet their basic needs.
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