Mysore Madness: The Early Days of Dasara

Wow! I can’t believe that more than half of my trip is over!! So much has happened, and I have had a hard time keeping the blog up-to-date. I figured, better to have experiences while I can and write about them later. But, I’ll fill you in on a few of the highlights that have transpired over the past few days.

We have officially entered into the Dasara festival! Dr. Jayashree and her family spent about two days preparing the “doll” display. The Dasara festival, which celebrates the victory of Truth over Evil, is also a celebration of dolls…ALL dolls, basically any kind of doll or trinket. The family began by creating the “shelves” made from various heights of tables, followed by covering the shelves with various fabrics and ribbons, and then the fun part…the pulling out the “dolls” from storage and putting them into place.

This was so much like decorating the Christmas tree. You know, how we pull out all of the old ornaments, perhaps from childhood or from places we’ve been, and recall the lovely memories of years with family and friends, reflect on different times in our lives, and of course, make or find some new ornaments to reflect the current time. Even the colors are like Christmas…red and white with offerings from nature – flowers and green leaves. I can’t help but consider a deep historical link here.

The addition to the usual morning rituals, in celebration of Dasara, at least in this household, has been a daily recitation of the Ramayana. The Ramayana is a Sanskrit epic in 7 books of 500 cantos with 24,000 verses. Dr. Jayashree and M. A. Narasimhan are doing the recitation and breaking it up over the course of Dasara. An hour or so each morning is spent on this. It’s been moving for me to be able to sit in and just experience the energy of it all – the smell of incense, the flicker of the lamp flames, the sent of Mysore jasmine, the sounds of Sanskrit flowing around, over and through me, and the distinct and pure taste of the blessed water flavored with cardamom and tulasi (similar to basil). What a beautiful way to begin each day.

Yesterday, I aslo had the pleasure of going shopping with Dr. Jayashree! I’m so glad she was willing and interested in venturing out with me. She knows all of the “best” places. We looked at jewelry first. Let me just say, that India has some of the most impressive jewelry I’ve ever seen…certainly not to be acquired on a teacher’s salary, but definitely fun to look at! This photo is from a jewelry exhibit we went to a few days ago. Let’s see, I could buy this necklace…or buy a giant house or TWO! For the moment I’ve passed on the jewelry but I am considering a very elegant and small pair of earrings. J

We then went to look at saris. You may remember some of the beautiful saris in the photos from Akshata’s engagement party…if not, check them out by clicking on the title link to that post. I’m looking for a single sari made of Mysore silk (since I’m in Mysore!). I won’t have many opportunities to wear a sari back in Lubbock, but it would seem strange to have access to this beautiful tradition of dress and not bring back a part of it with me to share. Plus, it will be quite an experience just learning how to drape the 6 yards of fabric onto my body! We visited a couple of stores to look at the variety of fabrics and designs available. Most likely I will settle on a solid color or two tone sari with a bit of gold thread. We’ll see…more looking today!

Last night was incredibly fun. As previously mentioned, Dr. Jayashree’s husband, M.G. Narasimhan, works at the Mysore palace. Each evening during Dasara he works with the Mysore Prince to help him get ready for the evening ritual. The Prince processes through an elaborate hall of the Palace and makes his way onto a huge golden throne, intricately decorated with artwork and yes, jewels….a lot of them…diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and pearls. There aren’t many opportunities for members of the public to get to see the Prince, so when there is one, apparently they really want to take advantage of it.

When we (Dr. Jayashree, her brother M. A. Narasimhan, and myself) arrived at the Mysore Palace, there was a crowd of people gathered near the “back” entrance pressing to get in. This entrance is for those who, I believe, have some connection to the Prince. I have to say, it was a little crazy. It reminded my of my younger days (much younger) trying to get into clubs…where if you knew the bouncer or owner you’d get in, otherwise you’d wait outside for seemingly hours. Dr. Jayashree made a call to her husband who was inside the palace. A few moments later a guard cleared a pathway and called the three of us in. We walked right in building and up a set of stairs leading to the hall.

At that point, I wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen. I’d been warned that Westerners are generally not allowed in. If I didn’t get in, I’d just wait for the others…no biggie. But thankfully, there were no questions. I just followed my teachers straight into the hall and was guided to sit down next to them in a row (the only row!) of VIP chairs. The floors were packed body to body with families who’d come to catch a glimpse of the event. I felt very, very lucky to have such a great view.

Once the Prince entered the hall everyone was on their feet and pressing forward. Arms of young girls with cell phone cameras were reaching around both sides of me. My chair was tipping forward! It was like being in the front row of a rock concert (yes, also when I was much younger)! Madness!

The Prince was immaculately dressed, as you might imagine. In addition to a heavy gold threaded jacket, he sported seven, I think, large broaches filled with diamonds. He wore gold necklaces with a variety of jewels, a turban with gemstones hanging from the front, a gold belt, and who knows what else. He was given swords and other paraphernalia to carry as well. Honestly, he didn’t look very comfortable. I can only imagine what it must be like to wear all of that heavy fabric, weighted down with all of those jewels, in a space with no air-conditioning and packed with people. This ritual only lasted about 30 minutes, but I must say, it was quite something to see. No photos were allowed, although it seemed everyone around me was breaking the rules. I only snapped this one, which isn’t great (the lighting was dim and I didn’t want to call attention to myself, being the only Westerner in the hall and all, by shooting a lot of flash photography) but perhaps it can give you an idea of the color and ornate quality of the space. Yes, it's real gold.

Afterwards, we waited for Dr. Jayashree’s husband, who then led us to the front of the palace (lit up with thousands of lights – again like Christmas! - and a little like the TTU Key during the holidays) to see, from front-row seats non-the-less, the evening’s music program. The name of the group was Rhythm Sphere, a fusion of Indian classical and Western jazz, funk, and beatboxing. The group consisted of four percussionists (one on Western drum set), a vocalist, and a keyboardist. The tabla player, Sri. Pandith Bikram Gosh from Mumbai, was the most impressive. In addition to traditional tabla, he incorporated an electric tabla, a wide variety of shakers and other “color” instruments, some “tabla talk” (including some creative story-telling!), and a bit of beat-boxing (not quite like Greg Patillo, but close). It was really, really fun. I was amazed that there weren’t people up dancing. Maybe in the back they were dancing and I just couldn’t see?

The Sanskrit study is going well, though I’m a bit overwhelmed with vocabulary. The asana classes are going nicely. I think I may have maxed out in the series, at least for a while, at navasana…you all know how much I love “boat”! :-\ My whole torso goes into convulsions when I hold that pose and Saraswati insists that I do it with straight legs, even if that means a required assist. We’ll see how it goes next week. I’m really loving the philosophy discussions and have so many ideas to solidify in writing - that will just have to wait until I get home. I’ve also invited daily meditation into my experience…15-20 minutes twice a day. Life is full.

A Visit to Mysore Palace

Dr. Jayashree's husband, M.G. Narasimhan, not to be confused with her bother, M.A. Narasimhan, has worked for the Mysore Palace for over 30 years. As mentioned in the Gramani Family Tree, the "Gramani" name (Leaders of the Village) was given by the Royal family. His family has had a close connection to the Palace for many generations.

Yesterday, I had the great honor of being given a tour of the Mysore Palace by M.G. Narasimhan. It was wonderful because he knows so many details about the Palace's history and the various spaces and artwork.

Photos of the inside were not allowed, but here I've posted two photos of the exterior in daylight: a front-side view (above) and the front view (right). If you look closely at the front view you will see a stage being erected on the left. This is where the many Dasara evening dance and music programs will take place, beginning on Wednesday. The open courtyard that you see here will be filled with chairs and people.

The palace has 1000s of lights outlining is architectural structure. These are illuminated each evening from 7-9pm. I haven’t seen it yet at night, but will have plenty of opportunities in the days ahead.

Pairs of these imported bronze lion sculptures guard various entrances on the grounds.

The inside of the palace was spectacular in so many ways. One was the grand scale of it all. Another, and perhaps even more impressive feature, was the intense attention to detail given to seemingly every square inch of space, from the intricately detailed inlays on the floor tiles to the hand painted borders outlining every wall. There were some doors covered completely in silver artwork representing various scenes in Indic mythology and others made completely of rosewood with delicate ivory inlays. Some ceilings contained intricate teakwood carvings and others grand paintings of various deities. The walls of an entire walkway housed canvases of beautiful oil paintings depicting the traditional Dasara processional including decorated elephants, military bands, carriages, and the townspeople in full dress in front of various Mysore landmarks. An inner hall houses the King’s golden throne, currently under cover but which will be on display later in the week. It is made of solid gold and is decorated with pearls.

I must say though, one of my favorite parts of the visit was getting to see the palace’s elephants “close-up.” Here this lovely lady is resting her trunk on my head – which was immediately followed by a slobbery kiss. (I didn’t mind, though.) She’s painted here because she was part of a processional earlier in the day.

In the next photo, one of the male elephants is thoroughly enjoying a spa treatment – a good ole elephant scrub!

I’m looking forward to the days ahead!

Mysore Zoo

Last Friday I made the trek to the Mysore Zoo. It’s known to be one of the World’s largest and best zoos and I understand why. The Zoo is located on what must be several acres of land, large enough to house several herds of animals including gaur (which are like bison) and several varieties of deer.

What was most impressive to me was that the herbivorous animals were being feed grasses that were grown right in the fields they were living in. You could actually see plots of land that had been tilled and seeded and had new growth sprouting up. In this photo, a zoo hand cuts fresh grass to feed the local rhino.

The Mysore Zoo is known for breeding animals, particularly endangered species. I was lucky enough to see several lion and cheetah cubs.

As mentioned in an earlier post, several breeds of monkeys are free roaming here in India. This was most evident at the Zoo where the rhesus monkeys come right up to tourists…probably hoping that their cuteness will solicit a snack. The Zoo warns against feeding the animals though.

Similar signage to this was posted throughout the zoo. In case you don’t read Kannada, you easily get the picture!

Gurus in Sunglasses

Yesterday in our discussion of Pantajali’s Yoga Sutras Dr. Narahimsan was discussing the limitations of writing as a teaching and/or expressive medium. Writing/reading can only be expressed through the dimension of time. It’s linear. One word follows the other, and good writing will carry the listener forward. But how do we use the one dimensional medium of writing to express multidimensional experiences? In scholarly and creative writing, the reader becomes a huge player in process of communication for it is through the mind of the reader that he imagines the written story in his own unique way or deciphers the written knowledge based on his individual culmination of experiences. There are parallels here to music, but I won’t go into that just now. I chose to share these thoughts on writing as a medium because I am feeling its limitations. There is so much to this experience that I am having here in India, and words, even if I spend an ample amount of time arranging them, are so limited in their ability to convey the fullness of it all.

Today, Saturday, was the 6:30am group class at KPJYAI led by Saraswati. She told me as I walked out the door yesterday to be there at 6:15. No problem I thought. Chikana is always early and it only takes 10 minutes. I had a 6am pick-up scheduled. Well, 6am…no Chikana. 6:05am…no Chikana. 6:10am…still no Chikana. Then I started to worry a bit. Maybe he forgot? He was concerned yesterday because his little boy was sick. Is everything OK with the baby? What should I do? So I ran inside and found Mami, who directed me to just go to the main corner and wave down another rikshaw. So I ran out the door to do just that…and found Chikana coming down the road. “Sorry, Mam. Sorry, Mam. Class is at 6:30 right? It’s 6:25 I’ll get you there.”

Most things here in India do not begin “on time.” But the one thing that does begin “on time” is the led group class at KPJAYI. I knew I would be coming in late and could only imagine the disruption this might cause…the disappointment on Sarawati’s face, etc. But I thought, I’m going to go…better late than not at all.

As I suspected, Saraswati waved me into class but there was not a smile on her face. The only open spots were, you’ve got it, in “the middle.” This time I laid my mat down on what appeared to me to be a nice smooth surface, staggered between the two advanced practitioners in front of me, and went upstairs to toss my things in a locker. When I returned the class was just beginning surya namaskar B. I placed my feet together at the front of the mat, and mentally sighed, “Oh boy.” The rug that I was on was apparently “hiding” several overlapping rugs underneath it. These heavy duty large cotton rugs that cover the floor of the shala, have “hems” that are ¼ to ¾ of an inch thick. There were parts of several different rugs under the one I was on. Yep, I was on a very uneven surface. OK…more opportunities to practice dharana…concentration. Here we go.

The led group class moves at a slightly faster pace than my personal practice, which only added to my sense of instability. I kept up but felt like I was flailing. I made it through the bulk of the standing series up to uttitha hasta padagastasana (standing hand to big toe pose) – you stand on one foot, take the big toe of your other foot with the fingers of the corresponding hand, extend the leg forward and then reach your head toward your knee. It’s a challenging standing balance to say the least. Everyday since the first day, Saraswati has been providing a lovely assist in this pose. But…not today.

So my mind started thinking things like… “yep, she’s disappointed in me for being late and now I’m being punished…but it was the driver’s fault…Lisa, don’t make excuses for yourself…what does Patanjali say…whenever a negative thought arises replace it with a positive one…OK…she’s decided I’m strong enough to do this on my own…or better yet and probably more accurate, she’s not even thinking about me because she’s helping someone else learn the posture…it’s not about me…focus so you’ll be able to stay upright…lengthen your shoulders away from your ears, relax your jaw…breathe.” Alright, I’d finally arrived at practice.

From there on out, my concentration was better. I even got my usual assist in marichyasana D, a very pretzel-y posture…another one that I’d never been able to get on my own. And, it was then, as I was closely being held and pulled by this woman, totally trusting her ability to manipulate my body without hurting it, that I felt this wave of surrender. Something released emotionally for me, and soon after many images rushed to my mind.

Dr. Narahimsan had made a comment, somewhat casually a day or so ago, in reference to the concept of a Guru. Guru basically means, one who dispels darkness – Gu (darkness) Ru (light). The term in its most revered use refers to a spiritual teacher. In our modern world, the term has been used to refer to anyone who teaches a specialty – like a tennis guru, for example. Anyway, he commented on Westerners' difficultly with the Guru concept. They (we) can’t seem to express unconditional trust in another human being. I’ve actually thought about this before. If there were a reincarnation of Christ in today’s world, would we (I’m referring here to my Christian circle) be able to embrace that human form? What, if anything, would we expect him to do to prove that he is Christ? Would we reject him, like so many did during his day? I know what the initial response might be, “Well of course we would accept him!” But think about it…we’ve almost developed an understanding of Christ as something/someone so abstract and separate from humanity that it’s hard to even imagine the real possibility of him (and what if...he came as a her?!) in a human form. Can you really see yourself, lying on the earth, bowing down to this divine human, feeling the warmth and flow of blood in his body as you touch his dust covered feet – or perhaps in today’s world, his pair of Nikes?

On a lighter side, I think children really do understand. My son made this fantastic drawing of Christ as a Jedi. He also has a picture of Christ with sunglasses – he looks like a member of ZZ-Top. That is, in someway, more tangible. (By the way, I found this great poster of Iyengar at the Mysore Zoo, fully dressed in what looks like spiritual attire…with a huge pair of very trendy sunglasses! Gotta love it!)

I was also flooded with images of my parents. I read recently in a book by a Catholic psychologist, that most people develop a relationship with God that mirrors their relationship with their parents, particularly their fathers. If their fathers were loving and supportive, yet demanding of good behavior, then that is how they would view God. If their fathers were critical, never pleased, frequently propagating guilt, then that would color their relationship with God. Well, what if your parents just weren’t there? What if you couldn’t trust your parents to “show up”? I’m not trying to place blame or show disrespect here (they had their own battles), but just to look at the barriers to my own relationships – including my relationship with God.

In my thoughts this morning about disappointing Saraswati by being late, I was reminded of how much my son yearns to please his parents (and...how much students want to please their teachers). If he senses in the least way that either of us are disappointed, his little eyes begin to fill with tears, though he does his best to hold it in. And, he doesn’t seem to find peace until he feels we have totally forgiven him.

As parents, and teachers, it is sometimes necessary to express disappointment in order to do our jobs. Pattabhi Jois lamented, “It breaks my heart when the only way to teach a student is to be harsh.” Saraswati was far from being harsh this morning…though I knew she wasn’t pleased. I think perhaps she could sense my own disappointment in being late. But the thing is…she “showed up” for marichyasana D…the pose I still can’t get into by myself…and I was able to trust her to help me get there. After class, I approached her to say “Dhanyaavadhah” (Thank You) and also apologized for being late. She smiled and gave the Indian head bobble. I’d been forgiven.

Again, the words feel limiting.

A Children's Story in Sanskrit

Part of my study of the Yoga Sutras involves the study of the language in which they were written, Sanskrit. Dr. Jayashree is a well-known Sanskrit scholar and I feel very blessed to be one of her students.

Yesterday, I made a trip to the Geetha Bookstore, here in Mysore. One of the things I asked about was children's books in Sanskrit. When we begin to read English we start with books like, "Dick and Jane." I thought surely something similar existed in Sanskrit, but it doesn't. So, here is my assignment for Monday...a children's story in Sanskrit.

Ultimately, this will all be in Devanagari, which is the phonetic script Sanskrit is most often seen in. (I haven't started learning that yet...just like we learn to talk before we learn to write.) Here, I'm sharing my story in Roman script (since I do understand that). My goals were to use simple sentences to highlight the vowel "a" and the consonant "g." I also wanted to utilize a few words that are common in the practice of yoga asana. This is the little story I came up with.

I've translated it for you below!

Video: The Ride Home from Gokulum

Steve Gorn playing Rag Desh on bansuri.

6:45am. The streets are still fairly quiet. I'm riding in an auto-rikshaw with my driver, Chikana. Enjoy.

Standing in the Middle (without getting kicked in the face)

At 5:30am Monday through Saturday, I meet my auto-rikshaw driver, Chikana, out by the back entrance. At 5:30am the traffic is pretty calm and we enjoy a nice ride to the KPYAI where I begin my asana practice in the shala. Students are given different start times for what I’m guessing is a variety of reasons, most likely so that everyone doesn't arrive at the need for posture assists at the same time. (The teacher will only assist you if she thinks you can't work something out on your own. This morning she actually said firmly to someone in her thick Indian accent, "I know... you want me to come over there...but I'm not going to." I silently smiled.) The first students begin at 5pm. Dr. Jayashree helped to arrange a 6am start time for me (originally it was 5am) because it seemed impossible to get an auto-rikshaw driver at 4:30…plus it’s still quite dark out at 4:30 and going a bit later from here to Gokulum is safer. I did't complain.

Today when I arrived the only open practice spaces were in the middle row. There are three long rows that accommodate about 10-12 people each. The front row seems to be occupied by the most advanced practitioners. I think people must set up on the back row to allow for visual and physical space between themselves and the front row. I’m not sure if Saraswati has them set up there on purpose or if that’s just where people tend to migrate. Because of my later arrival the only spaces left were behind several of the advanced practitioners, so I chose a spot, spread out my mat and went off to put my things in a locker.

On a side note, I find it very inspiring to be surrounded by such dedicated practitioners. I know some that feel intimidated by it because they see the “advanced” progress of others as something unattainable themselves. I remember hearing a performance by a very young and gifted flutist and an older observer saying something like, “Well, I should just quit.” Rather than being discouraged by the accomplishments of others, regardless of their age, isn’t it possible that we can find something in their skill and progress to inspire our own? I’m definitely one of the older people in the class, though there are several practitioners in their 30s. I doubt (but I never say never) that my body will ever let me attain some of the remarkable physical feats that I see and feel surrounding me in morning practice. But, I’m Ok with that. Hey, I’m in Mysore studying yoga!! Isn’t that cool enough!

When I came back, I stood at the front of my mat and began suyra namaskar (sun salutations). As I was moving through this warm up, I became very distracted by the person practicing in front of me. I wasn’t distracted by what he was doing as much as I was distracted by the proximity of it. Granted, he was tall, and probably needed to use more room than what his mat provided, but when I happened to be in uttanasana (standing forward bend) his heels were often right in front of my face (and significantly off of his mat) . I would see his feet and then suddenly, they would spring up into the air, swiping past my nose. Needless to say, this triggered a bit of concern around getting kicked in the face. I was doing my best to stay focused but all the way through suyra namaskar and the standing sequence I was quite distracted, so much to the point that I forgot the order of the standing sequence (its not that complicated) and was patiently corrected several times by Saraswati. But...what a perfect analogy for life.

We are often faced (no pun intended) with situations where others may make us uncomfortable on some level, whether it’s physically or emotionally. The “what ifs” come up to distract us from being fully present. “What if he kicks me in the face?” “What if she thinks I’m not smart enough?” “What if he doesn’t like me?” … and on and on. How can we allow ourselves to be among others who could potentially trigger our various fears and yet retain our ability to stay focused, present, and at ease without losing our awareness of real dangers so that we can move out of the way if need be? I think this is why the Hathayogapradipika (the guidebook for the physical practice of yoga) states: “He who practices hatha-yoga should…(be) situated in a place free from rocks, water and fire to the extent of a bow’s length and in a virtuous, well-ruled kingdom, which is prosperous and free of disturbances.” Perhaps I need a least a bow’s length between my mat and the mat of the practitioner in front of me. How big were bows in those days?

After a while, I finally decided that in order for this guy to be as advanced as he is in this particular style of yoga, he must have practiced in crowded asana classes for years. He knows exactly how much space he needs in order to facilitate his own experience and not injure those around him. I recognized that I was safe. Now admittedly, there were a lot of thoughts going on in my mind that had nothing to do with the Ashtanga sequence…thus, I made several mistakes. But the practice (abhyasah) involves developing the awareness to watch your thoughts in the present moment and to use discernment around how they affect your actions. If your thoughts aren’t going to move your practice forward, let them go. If your thoughts are telling you that you are about to be hit by a car (or kicked in the face) get out of the way!

Today Dr. Narasimhan was talking to us about vairaga (non-attachment) in the morning Sutras class. He said that those of us who had come from America to India to study are more practiced in non-attachment than he is. After all, we are living in a culture that constantly thrives on sensual attachment – luxurious homes, huge plates of food, fancy cars, designer labels, etc., and our choice to come to India to study yoga demonstrates that we are “letting go” of attachment. Dr. Narasimhan, as a spiritual teacher in India, is removed from all of those distractions. No doubt, this enhances his practice in other ways, but I think there are advantages to living right "in the middle" of it all, just like I was in the middle row of asana practice this morning amidst the energies of all those around me.

Living in “the middle” offers endless opportunities to practice focused awareness when faced with life’s potential physical and emotional distractions. And the result is a developed equanimity toward the constantly changing circumstances of our lives (happy or sad, success or failure, etc.). It’s what the Buddhists call the “Middle Way.”