Only one more practice is available at the shala until it closes for a two week holiday break. The few streets the yoga community repeatedly traverse are at rest of their usual small chats or passing smiles. The majority of the team ran north to Goa for the two week vacation. Goa is a west coast tourist stop with renowned beaches, temples, and architecture; It is a one day of travel away from Mysore. There seems to be two Ashtanga teachers there which everyone will be dispersed between until they return to Sharath mid-January.
Today seems like the day I should depart. It seems easy to leave, with the mellow atmosphere and vanished comrades (its not really quiet, that guy is still screaming "PA-pie-YAHHHH" as he pushes his cart of fruit.)
Juliana stuck around to give me a hug goodbye. The taxi came promptly at 5:30 p.m. The driver was so cute to try to carry
my duffle bag (upon arrival so empty, now pregnant with yoga and Ayurveda books.) Hopping into the taxi to leave Mysore makes me all the more certain of my return- like hell if I am not having another fresh coconut with a straw in the top, a dosa at Tinas Cafe, and a thali at Green leaf. I want to continue to strengthen my practice with Sharath and learn Ayurveda with Doctor Kumar.
Bangalore: 139km. We are driving on the wrong side of the road heading directly for a bus at an amazing speed. 5 minutes out of Mysore and I already have concern for my life ending again. I smile as we charge toward the bus with a tight swerve at the last moment to get us back to the left side of the road. India is crazy and I love it for what it is. This driver has played this nintendo-like road game his whole life, and it is not our time to stop breathing yet!
I conclude that this is the main highway to the Bangalore airport, my clues being the pavement and abounding buses. Oxen driven carts, motorcycles, bicycles, and wandering pedestrians flood the two lane street. There are no "exits" on this "highway". Sometimes we pass through what might be considered a town, or at least a gateway to a community, but we are surrounded in ever extending fields of agriculture. Coconut trees, sugarcane, cotton and tea fields stretch as far as the horizon. The raw land around us is so immense here, I wonder how so many people are still pouring into the road. The overpopulation in India is so prevalent, people are seeping in and out of every corner. Everyone is heading toward or from somewhere, but there is NOWHERE TO GO! A few corner shops selling god-knows-what are scattered randomly on the roadside here and there, but bodies are everywhere!
People are just running across the busy road as traffic blazes their horns and swerve around them. Parallel to the road is a dark skinned old man wearing all white- from his huge head wrap to his dohti (ankle length skirt.) He is herding his cattle, crossing paths with a 6 year old girl with an empty tin bucket used for carrying the beloved milk. Women strut with brush-loads twice their body size on their heads,
passing the dawdling shoeless school kids in uniforms. Neither seem to notice the possessionless sheep herders with their long sticks or the graceful women walking with large buckets on their heads.
The truck that we are passing has a "BLOW HORN" sticker on it where you might expect to see a "hows my driving?" sign in the states. It is stacked three stories high with a poorly roped load of goods. The smell of burning garbage mixed with pollution makes me appreciate my life in Jackson Hole. Nothing about the quiet and well manicured landscape and lifestyle of Jackson or Saint Paul resembles anything about the world that surrounds me now. I will say that the median in the center of the two lane "highway' is decorated with bright flowers, splashing bold magentas, flaming oranges, beautiful reds and loud yellows into the middle of all this chaos and poverty.
Oh India- how strangely beautiful this place is. Indescribable and uncontrollable, an ancient culture stuck in its prehistoric lifestyle. I thank you for opening my eyes- to myself and to a life a never knew.
I will return, so that next time I can give something back to you.
1 comment:
What a beautiful ending to an amazing story that you have told. You should definately think about becoming a writer when you return. Have an amazing time with you fam and keep me posted on all that you do. We miss you here!!!!
Post a Comment