india – belletakesontheworld

India – Not for the faint hearted

I hope you’ve enjoyed keeping up with this little adventure of mine! So many people have asked over the past 11 years why I say India is my favourite country of all, so this is to satisfy your curiosity – as well as a bit of a time capsule for myself to look back on my epic adventures when I’m old and grey and my legs don’t work to jetset anymore (or my stomach can’t handle the sheer quantity of delicious local food I consume when I travel!).

I’ve impressed myself with how much I’ve managed to keep up the blog posts on this trip… India has always inspired my creative energy, and I know how bad my memory is; if I don’t write it down when it happens, I likely won’t remember I did it in a few years. And if the photos aren’t on the internet, they will disappear forever – I try not to think about how many thousands of my epic photos from around the world are gone forever, thanks to corrupted hard drives & USB sticks (kids today will never know the struggle), lost phones and cameras. As someone who lives to travel, the photos and these words are all I will have one day… so WordPress, don’t ever fold, please!

I’ve tried to accurately convey the ‘sweet and the sour’ of this intoxicating place I love so much – it’s not always all rainbows and butterflies in this complex, chaotic and charismatic country, nor is it always utterly demanding and overwhelming. It’s an assault on the senses, as well as a test of your spirit and your ability to roll with the challenges. But she’s beautiful in her own magical way.

One minute you can be irritated by a pushy tout, the next you can’t help but break into a huge smile at a dirty child waving his hand in your face, beaming a radiant smile, screaming ‘Hi, Hello!!”, with this eternally optimistic and happy demeanour. I’ve met people who sleep in the cold streets in North India with nothing but a dirty potato sack under them, who are happier than some CEOs. We could all learn a thing or two about happiness from the ‘poor people’ of India who, in the most important ways, are richer than all of us.

The day we got ‘abducted’ by Dilip the tuk tuk driver & forced to meet his sweet family & pose for 500 photos with them all 🤣

One new lesson I learnt on this trip, in a post-covid world, is how backwards we’ve got our priorities in the west around family and togetherness. We think our independence makes us strong (Personally, as a single woman who pays 100% of my own way and lifestyle on my own, notice this trait in myself so strongly), when sometimes, being able to lean on others, and having a community to help us out, can relieve so much of our suffering. The Western way of life is impoverished in a community/relationship sense, which is in stark contrast to the East. Of course, when it comes to parents with young children… we all agree ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ and there’s not one parent I know who doesn’t wish they had more familial support around them. But for many of us, our family members are still alive and able-bodied… but we have different priorities that maybe places us in different cities, and perhaps differing opinions have kept us divided. I don’t know many people who didn’t have at least a heated discussion about Covid/vaccines etc in the past 3 years with a family member. I’ve heard of people literally getting into punch-ups with their brothers over it. Friendships or sibling bonds are lost for good, because we don’t agree. Do you think they don’t disagree on the big stuff in Indian families too? Sure they do. Yet somehow, they will still place presence and their bonds above their opinions and stick it out, finding a resolution somehow. Whereas we walk out, and blame the others’ ‘closed-minded, uninformed opinion’, or ‘conspiracy theory bullshit’ on why we don’t talk anymore. So now many people are alone, struggling with depression, overwhelmed and anxious, lacking the bonds we once had but unwilling to compromise to coexist. But in India, they were already cramming sometimes 10 or more family members into one small apartment, or perhaps one small tin hut in a slum village… if you’re having a disagreement with someone you share a bed with, you don’t really have a choice but to suck it up. And maybe sometimes for the greater good, they’re right to do so.

I ended this trip in Mumbai, one of my favourite cities, where once again, I did a walking tour of the biggest slum in the city, Dharavi. I was curious to see, in more than 10 years, how it had changed, and if they’d finally had some support from the government to relocate them to more permanent dwellings. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the government had finally offered apartments to some of the long term residents, and I thought, amazing! They must be so happy to not live on top of each other in a slum. I was wrong. Our guide, who lived in a slum himself, said many of them refused to leave because the sense of community and togetherness was so strong in the slum. Living in an apartment building cuts off frequent access to your family and friends, and why in god’s name would they want that?! They would literally prefer to live in a makeshift home with no running water than isolate themselves. It made me think of my childhood, where family members, friends, and neighbours would drop in unannounced all the time, and it was fun and welcomed. It has probably made me the extroverted people-person I am today, because we always had different people in the house. There was always someone to lean on for support for whatever I was dealing with, or to play a game that I liked but my siblings didn’t. Nowadays, we don’t turn up unless we’ve prearranged it and reconfirmed our arrival by text or a phone call. Unannounced drop-ins aren’t exactly encouraged. How is that isolation helping us with our sense of unity? How do I know my best mate is secretly suffering with depression, when I am literally waiting for them to pick up the phone and point it out to me. But in a slum, with your friend sleeping on a mat next to you, if they’re crying themselves to sleep at night, you know. And there’s no way these lovely people are ignoring their loved ones tears; they’re supporting each other in every sense of the word, and it is really beautiful. Whereas in the west, we live in environments where we see fewer people, and even when we do, we’re often so distracted on our phones that we’re not really listening to each other or being fully present. That latest iPhone that you paid $2000 for it is costing you a lot more than you realise.

I also got to experience a completely different India this time… as it was the sweaty hot south end of this vibrant country I visited a decade ago. 4 weeks freezing our butts off in north India was so different, from the food to the landscape, but the people are still the same. They’re used to foreigners a bit more, and they’re using their camera phones to ask for countless “selfie madam, selfie” rather than just stare at me and smile, or try to hold my hand (the little old ladies still love to hold my hand like a long lost daughter, and it warms my heart). I had so many locals look at me quizzically, and say “I’ve met you before, haven’t I? I swear I know your face!”, and I just laugh and say no. Strangers told me countless times, I look/act/behave Indian. The spirit of these kind-hearted people make my heart feel at home, so I can’t help but think there’s some truth in their words.

Taken on a surprise adventure in Udaipur with some locals who insisted “we cannot leave without seeing the real Udaipur” ❤️

Another difference, and in part one of the driving motivators for me to come back while I’m single, is I wanted to challenge myself and visit India on my own. I love to push myself out of my comfort zone, and last time India felt “safe” because I was in a relationship and had my boyfriend to ‘protect me’. I’d heard stories of single girls getting unwelcomed attention from males, and it sounded too full on for me… similarly, I used to think it was scary to travel Central & South America as a single woman… so just like I did 7 years ago, I challenged my preconceived ideas (fuck a comfort zone, honestly) and took off on my own to show myself I could do it, and I did. India was no different – it hasn’t been as full on as I was bracing for at all. I respect the customs of their culture entirely, and never once (except for a few hot yoga classes in private) had even my shoulders or knees out. If you don’t want to attract a lot of attention, don’t look like sex on a stick to a continent full of people who are used to seeing women dressed from their neck to their toes (I think I’ll have to write a whole blog post about travelling India as a woman, because there’s so many Westerners I’ve met who miss the point!). I enjoyed the contrast of travelling with my gal pal, Verity, who I’ve had the experience of exploring many continents with over the years. I was wholly prepared to come alone when I booked this trip, but it would have been so different, and way less fun without her.

This kind of holiday isn’t for everyone, its not really a “pretty place” where you go and sip cocktails & relax… but India makes me feel alive, and oh so fucking grateful to be so, unlike anywhere else on Earth. Looking back, I already know one of my favourite activities on this trip was visiting Varanasi, where they burn the bodies. I had intense meditations before I came here, where I envisioned myself here & the moment felt so real, and poignant – I felt called to come here for the first time this trip, and just so happened to do so on the anniversary of my Dad passing away 16 years ago. The energy in Varanasi is busy – how could it not be, thousands of people are cremated here in public every month and 10’s of thousands come to pay their final respects to their loved ones here. It is an honour to be cremated in Varanasi, so they don’t mourn like we do.. They celebrate the life, and I want to take that energy into the next experience I have with losing a loved one.

I could talk about India for days, but I already have with these massive posts exploding with all of the words, funnelled into my favourite creative outlet, this blog… I wrote most of this post before I even got back to Australia, but I’ve been home now for almost a month & I’m still reliving some moments from this trip. It was exactly the reset I was looking for – a break from digital devices, a break from being so ‘go-go-go’ like I am in my daily life, and a reconnection with my soul. So much healing and awareness came from this trip, and I know just like the last 2 times I was here, I will never be the same person again. This time, in an entirely different, yet still incredibly-well-timed way. This country just has that way with me.

India, you haven’t seen the last of me. Until next time…

❤️ Bella Sharma ✌🏻

Mumbai: the city that never sleeps

Mumbai has always been my most beloved Indian city. I spent a month here in my first Indian adventure, returned again a year later (and was delighted to discover that some of the street sellers remembered me… their memories are next level) and was pumped to end this epic trip back here again for some shopping with my bestie.

Jewellery shopping fanatics! The prices are amazing in India

Verity was not a fan of Delhi, but few foreigners are (I’m a bit the same myself, although I do like it more than Chennai). I’d hyped Mumbai up to her, but after leaving Rishikesh and all the chill vibes we’d experienced there, I started back peddling to prepare her that maybe she won’t like it, we don’t have to stay too long if you don’t want to, etc… but much to my joy and relief, as we drove from Mumbai airport to our first hotel in the Fort area, she was really feeling the vibes in this colourful, modern city. The population is a lot thinner than it was a decade ago, apparently Covid forced many back to their villages in the north… but the charm of the people, their city pride, friendliness and helpfulness has remained intact, and she looks prettier than ever.

Jan 26 is India’s “Republic Day” and the locals were in the spirit! This guy was a legend, course I cashed in for a free hug 🤗

We’d decided to splurge on a fancy hotel for the last couple of nights of the trip, but booked a cheaper hotel in the fort area to base ourselves and knock out some sightseeing and shopping until we were ready to relax at the fancy hotel pool & spa amenities (which, upon writing this, I realise we didn’t so much as look at… no woman can ever get sick of shopping in Mumbai, even us!). Our cheaper option was still rather good (Grand Hotel Mumbai for anyone looking for tips, great location in a heritage building and super quiet at night), and we got a takeaway Indian feast on our way from the airport to knock us into a food coma for the night.

The famed Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, Mumbai

As she tends to do (god bless her), Verity has trusted me in my insistence that we need to visit the biggest slum in Mumbai, where the movie Slumdog Millionaire was filmed… but I can sense that she’s a bit apprehensive about how hectic and dirty it will be and she’s entirely unsure if this will be her cup of tea. I don’t lie to her – there is literally 1.5-1.7 million people(ish) living in a tiny area of government land illegally, they are some of the poorest people in the country living on top of each other in a space of 1.7 square klms… it’s not glamorous. But, it is pretty incredible to see how resourceful and resilient these people are in this environment… at least, it was when I did the tour over a decade ago. Will it still be as impactful in this post-covid world or am I sending us both on another ridiculous mission?

Dharavi Slum (photos courtesy of the legends at Reality Tours)

Thankfully, she loved it. We met our tour guide at 9am at a central location in South Mumbai the following morning, and kicked off our 3-hour tour with 3 other tourists. I chose to go again with Reality Tours, as they were one of the first to start these tours back in 2006 and 80% of the profits go to support the people in the village we wander through, and they also run a NGO school to provide support for young people in the slum from 11-21 years of age, which I love.

They teach useful tasks – unlike algebra in the west- these kids are learning how to book train tickets online (anyone who’s ever tried to book on IRCTC’s website can attest, this is no walk in the park), set-up Google Pay and other everyday tasks.

The thing that always shocks people about life in an Indian slum, is it’s not at all what you expect. In the west, our unemployed are supported financially by the government (in India, this is not the case at all) and yet many are still unmotivated to work, happy to collect their check and kick back (not all, by all means!). But here, these guys are WORKING. Hard, long days, for less than $20 a day if it’s dangerous work in poor conditions, most more like $5 p.day, from a very young age until quite elderly when they can no longer do the physical work.

The women especially are put to work early, as their education is not as prioritised as the men (in some more traditional families not all, again… not trying to stereotype it’s just what’s been conveyed to me repeatedly by locals), as many traditional families want their daughter to be married to a good family quickly, and not have her wasting time and money on furthering her education when she could be helping the family. I love to meet with locals who have open minded families who don’t pressure the kids for college education or marriage against their will, and from what I hear this is changing… but for many, traditional ideals are still a reality and in here, it’s important for the daughters to not be a burden on the family.

You hear about ‘sweat shop’ businesses employing kids, it’s the reality here unfortunately, these kids start working at 12 or so, and it’s not just a casual position after school… they’re put straight to work until they get a husband and join his family. It’s the way things are here.

The staggering part is, the various industries inside the slum culminate to US $1 billion dollars in revenue per year. Everything from the coke cans collected in the street which are cleaned then recycled into various products, to the plastic bottles that are melted down to pellets and shipped abroad to build mobile phones, to the textiles and handicrafts made in here that are likely sold in all of our countries.

The work here is first class… we marvel at leather handbags and suitcases, designs so flawless they could be sold in a European fashion brand store – and these days, there’s even a store inside the slum where you can shop for some souvenirs of high quality leather goods made inside the slum. These people are not just sitting back on their laurels, complaining about the cards they’ve been dealt. They work, with a deep sense of community in everything they do.

Ten years on from my first visit, the thing that deeply affected my level of gratitude for my life, still makes me feel the same flutter in my heart – these poor dirty faces are smiling the broadest smiles. We walk past hundreds of beaming faces, children excitedly wave to say hello and just want to speak English to us, there is no begging. In fact, we were not asked for money once, just like my first visit.

Every preconceived idea I had, about what kind of people you’d come across in the poorest slum on earth, was challenged and thrown out, and Verity was close to tears (the good kind) as we were led through the narrow alleys and were explained how each industry works to break down the trash to make literal treasure. She was blown away by the energy in the slum, as was I… and I was amazed to see that the population in the slum hadn’t changed at all, but they’d managed to build themselves infrastructure for 2 and 3 level floors in some of the more secure buildings. What resilient, clever people they are. Amazing.

After the tour, we did some shopping in the famous Colaba Causeway strip. Since Mumbai is our final destination of the trip and we had no more baggage restrictions, we had been saving ourselves to do some damage to our wallets and our waistlines in Mumbai. “Don’t buy it here babe, save it for Mumbai..” has been my advice for the past 4 weeks (sometimes she listens, sometimes she doesn’t, it’s her choice haha), so now she’s got the green light, we’re on. We’re also doing a ‘no holes barred’ eating marathon, ensuring we hit all our favourite foods before we leave India (no sign of baati chokha here, unfortunately).

A Thali feast fit for two foodies on the final days in India in Samrat, a local spot recommended to us. Go the Unlimited Thali – trust me!!

If there’s two things Mumbai people (known as Mumbaikars, or Bombayites) are known for in my eyes, it’s their love of Bollywood and cricket. I didn’t get into the Bollywood this time, but just like every other visit, as soon as I say I’m from Australia, the cricket references come. Names I haven’t heard in years, like David Boon the player with the epic moustache from the 80s, Ricky Ponting always gets a mention, they just love it, and us Aussies are always welcomed thanks to it.

A huge cricket field in the middle of the city for lunch break batting practice

The street sellers haven’t changed… I walked past one shop on our first day and glanced at one particular bag, barely for more than 20 seconds but for the next 3 days, in everything from sweat pants and messy hair to dolled up face & a pretty dress, this same seller recognised me each time amid the bustling, endless swarms of shoppers and points suggestively to the same handbag with a suggestive tip of his head and a sly smile. I just laugh… how the bloody hell do they remember us so well, when there’s so damn many people here?!

I’ve hyped another experience which I know V is going to love; high tea at the luxurious Taj Mahal Hotel. We snake a prime spot with views of the Gateway to India monument, and for about $40 a head we have a 3 hour feast of Indian delicacies, Mexican and European food, and a massive array of desserts, pastries cakes… I feel sick just writing this, safe to say we gave it a good nudge.

Afterwards, we needed to walk it off.. so like many we wandered the halls of the hotel marvelling at the photos of celebrity guests, high end shops and pricey restaurants. Verity wanted to have a closer look at a very pricey jewellery shop, and I fell in love with a stunning 22 carat gold diamond ring that I just had to have. What the hell, we’ve barely spent any money on this trip, haven’t drank a drop of alcohol and did it rough in some places… we deserve to treat ourselves!

Half backpacker vibe with my temple strings & overgrown nails, half fancy diamond gal 🤣

More shopping and eating consumes the next few days, and we check into our gorgeous suite at the Intercontinental Hotel on Marine Drive for some luxury. This hotel was amazing, and the buffet breakfast is something our food loving dreams are made from!

Varanasi – the city of public cremations

We’ve had our fair share of struggles in relation to cancelled Ubers and getting ripped off by taxi drivers at the airport, so we think we’ve sussed the system by now and arrive at Varanasi airport with a plan to do better in Varanasi. Success… what has often been an ordeal in other cities, was actually a breeze in Varanasi and we’ve retained some of our Rishikesh-inspired peace on arrival to our hotel.

Pro tip for anyone reading this hoping for advice; we found Ubers always cancelled or went to a different meeting point, and you get accosted by taxi drivers wanting to take you themselves, for the Uber price + 30% until you are worn down and relent… so we started checking the price in Uber, telling the preying taxi drivers we had an Uber on the way and we’d only cancel if they matched the price… bingo.

Assi Ghat’s assembling crowds for Ganga Aarti

Driving through this sacred city as a couple of empaths who feel everything and had been warned by basically everyone how full on this city is, we took in the views and tried to not let the screeching horns and jostling traffic penetrate our bubble too much. It feels poignant that we arrive to the city where people come to farewell their loved ones, on the anniversary of my dad’s death… I know he’d be proud to see me continuing the love of travel he instilled in me from a young age and I feel his energy with me especially on this day.

Our hotel is great, we hit another home run with scorching showers and are both relieved to find the weather here is very comfortable, and we can finally ditch some of the bulky layers we had to wear in the north. Verity has taken the lead in finding a kickass dinner spot after we fasted on our drive from Rishikesh to Delhi airport, and flight here.. as soon as she says, “this place has 10,000 reviews and everyone says is a foodies heaven… “, I’m sold. I definitely get my love of food from my Dad so if this is his day, then hell yeah we’re gonna break our fast with a big ol’ Indian feast.

What we got, far exceeded my expectations. Not only did we meet a wonderfully kind, fair and patient tuk tuk driver in Mr Nando (a blessing in itself) to drive us to dinner, he confirmed the reviews are accurate: “if you don’t like Baati Chokha, your ride tonight is free” and we were nearly salivating waiting for the food to arrive.

Baati Chokha, blowing our taste buds’ minds

Despite both of our extensive knowledge and passion for Indian food, we had to google so many items on the menu but eventually just went for the house special, at the insistence of the staff. Good move… first came the homemade sauces and chutneys, then two balls of hot, fire-roasted dough were put on our leafy plate. We slowly tore them open… tendrils of steam pour from them, and we crack them open to find pieces of paneer (Indian cheese), garlic and spices filling the inside. It’s like a stuffed dinner roll on steroids. Our server shows us the ropes… first you pour the ghee (butter) over the delicious hot bread ball, then you dip in the chutney, and pop it in your mouth. Pause, and let your tastebuds moan in ecstasy.

My first thought, is how the hell did I not know about these delicious things?! I am obsessed with Indian food! 3 trips here, and in the final week I get my hands on what I know will be my new obsession. Turns out they’re special to this part of India, and although I’ll now be keeping a very close eye on any menus for the rest of the trip, there’s a good chance I won’t get them again before we go (or back in Australia either), so neither of us hesitate in ordering another round of baati balls asap.

The combo special for 260 rupees (about $4) includes Dahl, veg curry, butter paneer curry, papdums, raita, salad and a buttermilk dessert for a sweet… and its easily the best $4 I’ve spent all trip. We’re completely stuffed, but there’s always a dessert pocket so Nando drops us by his favourite local sweet shop, where we get a sampling of about 10 different Indian sweets to take back to our room to eat in bed. Varanasi, you’re not so bad after all.

We’re up early for our first organised tour of the trip; a private driver and guide from sunrise to 8pm. Our first stop is a sunrise boat trip on the Ganges river, and as we wait for the boat to be prepared, we watch as hoards of locals arrive to bath in the holy river and start their day with elaborate rituals of worship.

I’m always amazed at the level of dedication, commitment and passion of Indian people to their religion… every day is started and ended in thanks and gratitude to their chosen god. They perform the ceremony in the morning to ask for the health and protection of their loved ones for the day ahead; and return to the rivers’ ghats each evening at sunset to thank their gods for keeping their loved ones safe, ask for protection for the night ahead, and return the next day to do it all over again.

And it’s no chore, there’s no dragging their feet like a teenager being dragged to church on Sunday by their parents… they love to join their community to give thanks, and it makes me realise what’s missing in western culture. Most of us waste far too much time with our heads stuck in the phone, or Netflix, and don’t even pause to think about the food we’re shovelling into our mouth, let alone who or what we’re grateful for, for the life we live. And these people have nothing compared to all the luxuries we take for granted.. yet you wouldn’t know it judging by their smiles. It’s one of the biggest lessons I learnt from Mother India all those years ago on my first visit, and the lessons have remained part of my daily life ever since… and I’m adding a few more tools into my daily practice from this trip, to encourage myself to live a more grateful, and present life like these beautiful people do.

Of course, it’s never always all rainbows and butterflies in this complex, chaotic and charismatic country. Despite there being a higher number of foreigners in Varanasi due to its huge spiritual presence which draws tourists from all over the world, we are stared at, swarmed and smiled at constantly (sometimes all at once). We’re grateful we chose the private tour, as we look at large groups crammed onto boats all fighting to get the perfect shot… we peacefully cruise along the river on a small wooden boat, just the two of us, our guide and captain, taking it all in from a distance. Our guide points out important monuments and ghats (stairs leading to the river) and we gain deeper insight into the rituals performed in this special place.

Then of course, thanks to V… we get the most epic photos.

I’ve seen the Instagram photos of people on the Ganges river with birds flying overhead, and thought wow what a moment to be able to capture… well I’m here to spoil the illusion of perfection guys, there are boat people cruising around selling bags of ‘bird food’ (looks like crispy fried noodles, but the birds go ape shit for it), calling them over and we take turns throwing fistfuls of it in the air to get the shot.

So candid, right?

We’d hung onto our colourful skirts from the similarly holy and equally hectic Pushkar, knowing Varanasi is the spot we’d like to get some pretty pictures and then donate them to the poor, along with the warm clothes we’d purchased in North India. Damn, the locals really loved our skirts! After the boat ride and some local Varanasi specialities for breakfast, we walked the streets and were accosted for photos on every block, which of course we obliged as much as possible despite the crazy traffic and feeling Iike we were going to get run over every 3 seconds (sidewalks? What sidewalks…) walking as close to the side of the road as we could. We eventually made it out to our waiting driver, and reminded ourselves that this level of traffic was actually quiet by normal standards. It’s 8am on a Sunday, this is the quietest part of the day and the week in Varanasi, in the low tourist season. We thanked Lord Shiva that we’d elected for a guide, as trying to bargain with a tuk tuk driver in this environment is not evenly slightly relaxing or fun.

Being such a holy place, temples are big on the tourist agenda in Varanasi so we started the tour with the red Shiva temple, Kaal Bhairav, Mahamrityunjay, and a couple others I can’t recall the name of. We were stopped to take photos at every turn, and since I love to see their beaming faces when I say yes, we obliged. Again, and again, and again… eventually our guide had to drag us out of there before we got mobbed, or we’d never made it through the rest of the tour.

At the red temple, our guide was trying to explain the meaning behind the offerings to this particular temple but a small crowd had started to gather, until finally a man plucked the courage to ask us to have a photo with his wife… that one man’s courage resulted in about 15 minutes of us being passed around to pose for photos with a crowd of curious onlookers, more focus on us in that moment than the actual temple! Little old ladies with no English looked deep into my eyes, holding my hands in theirs, smiling widely and bowing to us. There’s no point resisting… we had to surrender to India.

After the temple tour, we visited Sarnath, where it’s told that Buddha delivered his first sermon and set the ‘wheel of dharma’ in motion in the 5th century. The teenage and early 20s boys seemed to be our fans here, and despite us wandering off to the grassy surrounds to try to find some peace to meditate in this sacred place, we were soon interrupted to pose for a photo and Verity was convinced to subscribe to his YouTube channel (LOL).

Finally, it was lunchtime and we were starving. We’d been talking all day about these baati chokras and did not even hesitate to decide we’d return for dinner the very next day (hey, when you find something you love, go hard right), but when lunchtime hunger kicked in we rationalised that we’d be at a evening ceremony until late and the restaurant would likely pack out, so fuck it, lets go back for lunch. You only live once, and we weren’t taking any chances of not getting a second taste.

Good move, as even at 2pm there were no tables left and we were seated at the end of another larger groups’ table (pretty standard in a country with so many people). We didn’t care: just get those delicious balls of dough back in our mouth please!

Round two didn’t disappoint, the meal was just as delicious and we sat in awed contendness at the end of our feast for how goddam good they were.

The tour picked back up with a walking tour, which entailed fighting the endless stream of traffic in every direction, with every manner of transport pushing and jostling to be first – car, motorbike, scooter, push bike, horse & cart, tricycle, on foot and of course you can’t forget the cows standing calmly in the centre of traffic as if they had no idea of the chaos around them (oh to come back in your next life as an Indian cow, honestly). Our guide charged ahead with all the confidence of a local, while we anxiously tried to keep up, not get run over, and ignore the pleads of children, mothers and holy men with hands cupped begging for money.

No photos of begging children.. as to be allowed to take a photo you generally tip, and giving money to the beggars is discouraged as it only perpetuates the behaviour, sadly

Finally we made it to the ghats, where we got to take in the mornings boat ride view from the very banks we cruised past. We’d ditched the skirts by now, as it drew too much attention and as it was we couldn’t make it 5 metres without being stopped for a photo. We dodged flying balls from kids playing street cricket, and the chaos around us was just another day of the week for these guys.

Public cremation: hundreds of bodies are burnt like this each week in Varanasi

Varanasi is an assault on the senses. Loud, chaotic, relentless and dirty, you’re pressured for a photo, a purchase, or a donation at every turn. I knew all this before arriving, yet I still felt a deep pull to come here, to the place people travel from all over the world to burn their loved ones bodies in open public viewing, for less than the cost of a massage or a meal. Yet it doesn’t feel pitiful, or even obtrusive – Indian culture deals with death in a manner so unlike the West, and I felt a peaceful calm yesterday while quietly watching a carcass loaded onto carefully prepared stack of logs by this man’s family. Watched him burn to ash, with so many other strangers doing the same, to be sacrificed to the holy river who’s banks we stood at.

The evening’s main event is the Ganga Aarti, which we’d witnessed in Rishikesh and knew was a bit more elaborate in Varanasi thanks to all the tourists. It was crazy busy; even with our guide reserving us special seats in a high viewing spot away from the main crowds, it was still bustling even an hour before anything started, and we were strictly instructed to get to our seats early or we’d lose them.

It’s hard to believe they go to this much trouble every single day, but they do. Stages are set up, shrines are constructed with rose petals spread over multiple platforms all up and down the Ganges’ ghats in all directions. Approximately 3000 people come here every day, as part of their normal day… we couldn’t think of anything worse as Australians who are used to their space. Its like going to a big music festival or concert and being jam packed headed for the exits after the headline act finishes, and you’re all herded out like cattle… except, you do that every day, for your entire life. And you don’t know anything different, so it’s normal and all part of life. It’s so different to what we know.

We jumped ship a little early, knowing it would be absolute chaos…and even though we left earlier than most, it was still a complete clusterfuck trying to get out of there and we breathed a big sigh when we finally made it to the taxi after a 30 minute pushing and shoving contest… and then there was the drive back to the hotel. We thanked ourselves for the foresight of a big lunch, as we had no desire for dinner or any more crowds of people… back to the hotel for an early night for us thanks.

The following morning, we returned to the ghats at sunrise to take some time to ourselves to have a little ceremony for our own deceased loved ones, and to watch the day unfold down there before things got too hectic… then followed it up with some yoga. He was no Rakesh (our new favourite yoga teacher from Rishikesh)… but doing yoga from a building overlooking the ghats and the holy river, was something pretty special and as usual, I feel pretty fucking grateful that I got to have this experience.

Mumbai, my favourite Indian city of all, is up next!

Life after ashram – finding luxury & our body’s max pain threshold in Rishikesh

Well, safe to say Verity has had ENOUGH of straw beds and cold showers (and so have I), so on our last night in the ashram we started looking into nice hotel options. Agoda had an epic 75% off deal on a really nice looking hotel that seemed too good to be true, but we thought we’d just book one night and see how we felt about extending at Moustache Rishikesh Luxuria… or sticking to the plan to change hotels to stay on the other side of the holy Ganges river, and easily explore more of this vibrant city.

Ceremonial offerings to the Ganges river

Well, these guys brought the fucking goods. Scorching hot showers with ‘monsoonal-downpour’ level pressure (a combo we haven’t had once in North India’s winter), epic rooftop and private cabanas for morning yoga, meditation and breathwork; tasty buffet breakfast, all the trimmings including free chocolate and hand written notes on the bed upon check-in… Verity has forgiven me for the rough week in the ashram dorms now she’s in a queen sized bed with room service. Happy lady.

Adding to her joy, we saw a poster for yoga classes and the reviews for the teacher were pretty impressive – almost too impressive, we wondered if they were all from his friends and favourite students – but took a chance anyway as all the ones she favoured over the river were closed down for the winter, so what the heck, we booked with Rebirth Yog Rishikesh for the following mornings’ drop in class. I was a little apprehensive about doing an advanced level 90 min yoga class, when I’m intermediate at best with the world’s tightest hips…. But figured what the hell, I’ll take the low option.

Well, Rakesh has no low option. And as much as I struggled at the start, I’m so very grateful that this passionate and kind human pushed my body, and in turn my mind, as he did. Although I got more “no, that’s not right”‘s and had to hear “Yes, perfect” at the other two advanced students repeatedly, I swallowed my ego and went to my limit.. then Rakesh would come past and apply the pressure to push my stiff and tight body wayyy past that. My breathing was hard and irregular (for which I was constantly told, “no hard breathing please, nose only” and I wanted to retort that I was just trying to stay alive over here haha), and despite the freezing cold temperatures I was soon peeling layers off like I was doing a heavy weights session. This kind of yoga was no joke!

Rakesh pushing me to my stiff body’s limit

But at the end of the 90 minutes, like every good workout, I was so pumped up and pleased with myself for not quitting. Rakesh praised us for giving it our all, and his demeanour changed instantly from a loud, encouraging tyrant (the kind of trainer I love) to a softly-spoken, patient and proud friend. We were hooked – we kept coming back every morning, and extended our stay both on this side of the river and Rishikesh entirely just to be able to keep attending his classes. I’ve truly never stretched my body and had such a strong yoga practice in my whole life, nor an instructor who pushed me like he did… I was hooked!

Highly recommend an Ayurvedic cooking class

After yoga one day, we filled our day with an Ayurvedic cooking lesson from an Ayurvedic doctor to be able to bring home to Australia all of the tasty dishes we were eating and falling in love with. We hit all the favourites and added some new ones: Dahl, hulva (semolina sweet dessert) khichadi (vegetarian porridge), a smoked eggplant curry, Chana masala (chickpea curry) as well as bonus inclusions on the day of Ayurvedic massage oil and my personal favourite, masala chai (Indian spiced tea).

Happy lil lady with my daily chai addiction

All were whipped up in less than 15 minutes each, using fresh vegetables straight from the doctor’s garden and strictly Ayurvedic herbs and spices. We received copies of the recipes and I cannot wait to continue the healthy eating back in Australia now I know how to make all this delicious food that’s made my belly happy this past month.

Verity getting the snaps as I take over in the kitchen as usual (cute outfit I know, we really let ourselves slip in Rishikesh haha)

We’d heard that every evening at one of the main ashrams, a ceremony called Ganga Aarti is performed in 3 main cities along the Ganges river (here, Haridwar and Varanasi), but one of the best without all the hoopla and theatrics was here in Rishikesh, so we decided it was time to do some touristy things again. We climbed to the top of a 13- floor temple, received blessings from holy men for our families and offered our thanks to the Hindi gods at each stop. I love the detail in everything they do when it comes to celebrating their religion – gorgeous flower garlands, beautiful baskets of ceremonial offerings prepared for about 20 cents.. and it’s the one thingy they won’t rip the tourists off for. Lord Shiva is watching after all, can’t be getting bad karma in their place of worship!

Ganga Aarti was beautiful, watching the devotion in their faces as they chant and studiously participate without so much as a glance at their phone is quite special. We follow along as best as we can, then drop our offering into the Ganges river, taking the lead from some other Indian tourists who fill their empty water bottles with holy Ganges water to take home with them. I look forward to using it in my meditations and rituals I intend to incorporate into my life when I return home (writing this here to keep myself accountable! Can’t be wasting the holy Ganges water).

Taking in the view of Rishikesh from the 13-floor of the Bhootnath Temple, Swarg Ashram

We filled the rest of our Rishikesh ‘Shanti shanti’ week with presence, eating alllll of the tasty food, exploring bookshops and waterfalls, massages, check-ups with an Ayurvedic doctor, meeting locals and even got our India tattoos. I’ve wanted the hamsa hand on the left side of my ribs for almost a decade, and knew that eventually I’d make it back to India and would hold out as long as it takes, to get this symbol in the country I love so much. The artists at Kalka Tattoo were absolute pros, creating a custom design of exactly what I wanted, including the kundalini symbol, third eye for protection, lotus and all the Hindu accents I’d imagined in my head. I forgot how much the ribs hurt… of course I get my biggest, most detailed tattoo in this painful spot. I absolutely love it though.

We’ve extended Rishikesh as long as possible, as all of the peace and presence we were seeking in India has arrived on our doorstep here, and we know Varanasi will be fucking HECTIC. How could it not be… thousands of people flock here every day to burn their deceased loved ones bodies to be offered to the Ganges River to break the cycle of reincarnation for the purpose of karmic balancing… and all those emotions, energy (living and dead) and pushy holy men need to go somewhere. We’re prepared, somewhat.. and have decided to book our first organised tour of the whole trip to ensure we see all the best bits of Varanasi as quickly as possible, led by a local who can rescue us when it all gets too hectic.

We’ve already bought too much stuff, including books in all things Ayurvedic, tantric, doshas and pranayamas so we posted some stuff back and headed into the eye of the storm, Varanasi. Rishikesh, we will 100% be back one day and I absolutely recommend this peaceful town for anyone planning a India trip one day.

Day 7: Enlightenment by fire

The sun is shining, and we’re starting to warm to Guruji. We were warned by the other teachers here before he returned from his travels that he can seem a bit strict, but that’s because this ashram is his life and as he travels a lot, he needs to ensure things are run to his standard when he’s away. Years ago I worked for a (somewhat) famous crocodile hunter who was similar in his approach to his staff, and his protection of his brand and how it is presented to his guests, so I respect the desire to ensure everything is ‘just so’ (I know I’d be the same, to be honest!). Adding to that, after his initial first day of flurried activity he’s settled in a bit now and has shown his humorous side to us, as well as given his time to educate us on the parts of his culture that he feels are most pertinent to us… while he could talk, of course. This morning he is busy preparing for the ceremony to begin on time, so he calls for all hands on deck to help prepare.. the Russian, conveniently, sneaking off to practice violin at this time.

We are seated around a holy man, who is preparing a fire space for mantras and offerings to be presented by all of us, seated around it.. once all the mantas are recited and offerings are done, the coals of the ‘sacred fire’ are transferred to Guruji’s area (all those concrete slabs around the property are starting to make sense now), and with the honk of a conk shell trumpet, he’s ready to get started. 3 months of silence starts now.

We’re invited inside his space to offer our well wishes for his ‘sadhana’, his ever faithful Russian disciple longingly calling to him, “we’ll be right here with you all the way Guruji, we love you” and true to her word, she basically didn’t leave, silently watching him as he sat in silence surrounded by fire all afternoon. Different monks have different sadhanas to perform, based on what their master decides is necessary for their detachment from worldly things and eventual attainment of enlightenment. Some must not eat for long periods of time, some most observe silence… in more extreme cases, they must meditate on top of a corpse for a predetermined period of time. If they break it for even one day, one minute.. the clock starts again. Our Guruji has performed his fire sadhana many times, so we know he’s got it in the bag.

Our final hatha yoga class is completed, our last meal eaten on the cold temple floor, and I get one-on-one time with Swamiji to learn his secrets to mastering not eating for 3 months. He’s a very spiritually aware man, and can read me like a book.. he offers insights into why I struggle in this human form, my past life karmas and how I might overcome them, and we discuss everything from pre-birth traumas on infants to philosophies on reincarnation and astrology, until it’s past our bedtime (9pm).

Day 6: “Ashram life is not a holiday”

I woke up to the distinct smell of rain this morning before pranayama, and with a sinking feeling I wondered if this means Guruji wouldn’t be starting his fire ceremony and silence from today… surely not, these customs don’t get affected by the weather, do they?

Pranayama is fast becoming one of my favourite parts of ashram life, and as we were finishing up our 90 minute practice and heading for shavasna (everyone’s favourite part of yoga) with guruji’s young apprentice, the boss swept into the temple space and barked orders that he’d be back in 5 minutes to take over. We waited 20 mins, all done, wondering what we’d be doing and eventually he came in, and led us through the most physically intense pranayama sequence we’d done yet. Forget lotus position with a finger pressed gently to your nostril: this was arms above the head, exhalations so hard there was runny mucus spraying from all noses, and for the life of me, I couldn’t do one round without getting it wrong in Guruji’s eyes. “(To Verity) Yes you, good… you; (Points angrily at me) no this is NOT right, do like this… NO, not like that like this…) and I keep trying and clearly disappointing him. He keeps comparing my form to V’s, and my ego wants to yell back “She’s a qualified breathwork facilitator! She does this for a living!”, but I know this is just my wounded ego at not getting it perfect so I shut the hell up and do my best, and eventually get the nod of approval.

As suspected, Guruji advises he will not be starting his ceremony today due to the sun not being out, which means we’re all getting put to work. Even the Russian is ordered to join us in completing karma yoga, as “ashram life is not a holiday, you want holiday and easy life you go somewhere else” and he wants all the toilets and bathrooms scrubbed to his satisfaction. At 10:30am sharp, Verity & I get cracking while I notice the Russian chilling in her room. I let her know in my sweetest voice which bathroom she can start on, and she screws her face up in disgust, puts her hands out and says “Oh no, I can’t do that, what about my hands? Are there gloves?” We weren’t offered any gloves so V & I have just gotten started with the basic cleaning items we were offered. I said I’d ask for her, as I could clearly see she was looking for any way out of doing it. I get the princess some gloves, and she barely acknowledges me before taking herself outside to practice playing violin, completely ignoring the task we’d all been set.

We got a quick photo with our beloved Swamiji on the last day.. you’ll see our friend in the background still going with the violin 🤣

Now, I’m not a huge violin fan on a good day, but when it’s screeching from an ungrateful spoilt brat who refuses to stop being miserable or chip in, it’s really not a great sound for either V or I. We try to focus our energy on the task, and I remind myself that whether she was here or not, we’d surely be given this task so who cares if she doesn’t want to do her part. Conveniently, as soon we’re done with karma yoga, she is done with her musical contribution… and is back to being miserable and complaining to us. To add insult to her not chipping in to clean anything, she takes the only toilet roll in the ashram as her personal hankerchief, and after lunch we can hear her hacking and gagging, and possibly throwing up in our clean bathroom… and she most definitely didn’t clean afterwards, or use the mop to clean the floor after her shower not once… and not to be foul, the bathroom reeked of menstrual blood on top of that. Woosah, we remind ourselves… She is our lesson (Also glad we cleaned the other bathroom now, leave her to it).

As we head for bed this evening and I’m doing a meditation – at 8:30pm on a Saturday, wooo we’re wild I know – I hear down the hall Guruji pulling V from her bed for some reason. My lights are off, but he still knocks and says come, we are doing special ceremony in the temple for new year, let’s go, not sleeping, ceremony until midnight only… I was so not keen, initially. I rugged up & went downstairs, the Russian was ignoring calls to help prepare the temple (shocking), but I adjusted my attitude and dove into helping in any way that I could.

Turns out, it was really something special to be invited to sit in on this special ceremony to commemorate the change in season. Our Swamiji, who we are so fond of, is so devoted to his worship and it was beautiful to witness. We were invited to make offerings into the fire – releasing of negative energy or offerings for more positive blessings, as we choose – and I swear I sent prayers and good fortune to every person, place, animal and spirit I’ve ever met over the course of this ritual… and even managed to be in bed by 11pm. Totally worth getting outta bed for!

Day 5: The Russian intruder arrives

Guru-ji did indeed arrive last night, and his energy is FULL ON. We had already gotten the impression that he was a bit strict, but he was like a bulldozer ripping through the ashram pointing out things needing repair; problems, and tasks he wants completed asap. He kind of put us on edge when we first met him, as he has a very direct and demanding energy but hey, at least we know he’s going into silence from 10am tomorrow, for 3 months, and we’ll not have to worry about him after tomorrow.

Also, there’s finally an intruder in “our” ashram. She’s about our age, Russian but lives in Germany as a violinist… and she’s hating on the cold more than Verity did – I didn’t think this was possible 😂 The one benefit is, it’s shown Verity how pointless it is to be miserable about a situation that you can do little about, so it’s given her some needed perspective to pull herself out of her frozen funk… she’s back to laughing at herself (actually, she was laughing at herself the whole time that she was seething about the lack of heaters being offered, and frequent power outages… but now she’s witnessing it in someone else, she’s apologised for being a drama queen… I’m just sitting back with the popcorn laughing at them both).

Much love & hand gestures to the friendly staff at the ashram

The Russian met our great guru in Kerala during his recent travels and he invited her to come stay in his ashram, which I’m pretty sure he was regretting within a few hours. She was NOT prepared for the cold, but to add to her suffering, she was 100% not ready for ashram life… which Guruji keeps pointing out to us all, is not a holiday. It’s work, and it’s uncomfortable, and it’s not for everyone.

Hot chai is muy necessito if you want to maintain a morning meditation practice

It’s clearly not for the Russian, as she’s been hiding in her room and only comes out dressed like an Eskimo with her puffer jacket hood tied up so close to her face it looks like she might lose circulation. And she sits at the dinner table (which is the cold marble floor, covered in a thin rug), with a miserable look on her face, begging Guruji to stop with his tasks and activities to spend time with her. She just looks at him with this love-sick puppy look, smiling, hanging on his every word. He invited her to join our daily yoga session, but she walked out after 5 minutes… yoga, evidentially, is also not for her (not sure why you’d come to a yoga ashram then). In satsang, she argues and talks over the gurus when they’re speaking and V and I just look at each other… respect the culture, and the place you’re at sis! Regardless, we just try to do our own thing and “leave her to her misery” as Guruji advises. Ironically, she’s chosen Verity as her partner to vent to about her frustrations, and ask all her questions to. I guess she can tell I’m not having a bar of it.

Ayurvedic massage with steam contraption in the background

I finally get my Ayurvedic oil massage today, and it’s so relaxing – especially followed by a steam in some odd contraption that’s built for one with your head sticking out the top. Oil and sweat drip off my body, and the masseuse covers my head with blankets so I’m really cooking… as claustrophobic as it is, it feels so nice in the cold climate here.

Day 4: Blissful happiness bubble

Happy days, I had a warm cozy sleep with my own heater and lived to see another day and didn’t die from not getting enough oxygen in my sleep – plenty of reasons to smile today. Adding to that, the sun has poked its radiant head out again so it’s warm, in fact so warm I dropped both layers of socks, warmed my frozen little toes out in the garden and even stripped down to a t shirt instead of my usual 2 shirt/2 sweater and pashmina get up. (Verity however, must have ice in her veins as she was still triple layered in a tracksuit and 3 pairs of socks while I was in thin tights and a thin shirt, I don’t know howwww she’s so cold poor thing).

Haven’t gotten enough pics of her actually freezing in Rishikesh, so here’s her still bundled up after a 25-min walk uphill while I was stripped down to singlet & tights already 🤪

We’re due to get a new recruit in the ashram today… aside from Guruji that is, whose arrival seems to have everyone in a flurry like the queen is coming, lots of last-minute grounds maintenance and eyes constantly darting to the gate on high alert… there was supposed to be a new Russian woman coming to study yesterday, no sign of her yet but then they mentioned someone coming today too so maybe we’ll finally have to share “our ashram” (we’d just got used to having the complete attention of the teachers and staff, not to mention the two heaters we’d fought hard to get… hopefully the Russian won’t be as cold as us Aussies and won’t need it).

Most effective method we’ve found for defrosting frozen phalanges 🥶

Our lesson with Swamiji in the sunshine on the steps of the temple today speaks right to Verity, and her rising frustrations about the cold and lack of heating, which is just laughable to me at this point. He talks about observing your anger, or anger in others, and learning the lesson in it. He starts to cover the chakras, but points out that to really learn kundalini, you need to live in solitude for one month to study each chakra (of which there are seven), and cut off all digital access, even talking to other people or looking at their faces is not allowed in this type of learning. Comparing yourself to others, only creates suffering.. so removing all ‘others’ is the way. We obviously don’t have the means to turn into a disciple for a year in India (I’ve had my days of years and years of travel, as tempting as it is I’ve got a life that I love that I’m keen to get back to), but he teaches us what he can, and shares his stories. He mentions casually that he once went 256 days as a “breatharian” which is, nothing but fresh air for 256 days… hold up, what now?! Is that even possible?! No food, no water, for more than half a year. For him it was, and he only ceased after this time at insistence of others in his village, including his own master. He said it was easy… goes to show what the mind is capable of.

Our temple session in the sun went over time by 40 minutes, none of us noticing as the chats were so engaging… so I sadly missed the Ayurvedic massage I was booked for (and need, lord all this cross legged sitting and yoga is twisting my back up); but we used the free time instead to wander bookshops in the village and consider our next move after the ashram.

We’re contemplating a quick 3-night stay at this nearby yoga ashram where we’re getting ayervedic treatments at, AYM

After hatha yoga in the afternoon, we learnt the new Russian woman had arrived and swiftly asked for a heater (oh sis, it’s not even dark yet… you’re in for trouble if you’re cold already), Verity’s eyes going dark as she protectively tries to guard her heater, pointing to the 3rd heater we already know is broken… haha. I acknowledge it was nice to get a heater for one night, I’m happy to give mine up so that the iceypole that is my dear friend stays warm overnight. I’m laughing as I write this as V’s just come downstairs from meeting our new guest and she’s like, “mate, this chick is already a pain in the ass.. she’s expecting me to help her with her heater, saying this and this doesn’t work, how’s she going to last here etc… this is what we’ve been dealing with for the past 5 days!” Just when I thought she was moving past it, this chick is here to retrigger her and ultimately, I hope, be part of V’s lesson.

Still no sign of Guruji, hopefully he turns up tonight. I go to bed tonight and a feeling of pure happiness comes over me – a blissful state that kept me awake past bedtime cos I was just so friggin elated, over nothing. Not nothing, exactly – it’s a feeling I often get when I deliberately and consciously carve out time in my busy life to prioritise daily meditation, breath awareness, yoga… all the things that silences my busy mind and allow me to drop into my body, and my heart. It’s exactly what I came here for, so like an old friend who feels like sunshine, I allow it to wash over me, and wrap me in a hug. Cue contented sigh.

Day 3: Kundalini Tantra Yoga Ashram

Slept pretty well now I’ve realised I just need to sleep rugged up like a Eskimo with two mattresses as a blanket… we’re improvising here! I’m loving starting our day with Eastern-style pranayamas (breathwork) with the smiling young man being trained up under the ‘Guru-ji” who is basically the monk/master/teacher of this ashram. (Pro tip, just chuck “ji” on the end of anyones name or title in India, boom – instant respect). Speaking of Guruji, he’s due to arrive back in the ashram tomorrow and everyone is excited to have their master home after his travels abroad and around India. He’ll be doing a special fire ceremony to kick off his 3 month stint of no talking, and sitting in lotus position from sun up to sundown every single day. In winter. For 3 months. We can’t believe it, as we shiver in the cold with triple layers. No wonder he’s the top dog!

Our esteemed guru performs this ceremony for up to 6 months on a regular basis… sitting outside in winter for hours every day in silence

We enjoy breakfast, a yummy chickpea curry – and when it’s time for karma yoga we text Swarmiji for direction… he replies with a laugh and says, contemplate. We don’t get it, do you really not have anything for us to do? No toilets to clean? (The job I got in my last ashram stay) He explains later that, there are two different kinds of karma yoga, the external type (tasks done in service for others) and internal, where you go inwards and vibrate positive energy and contemplate your contributions. I get the feeling they’re also letting us enjoy the calm before Guruji arrives and puts us to work, so we take it as a win and Verity gets an Ayurvedic massage while I chill in a cafe with chai.

We’re really enjoying our chats and lessons with Swamiji, he’s a character with a wealth of knowledge and very interesting stories and it’s great to have his undivided attention – some of his lessons seem to speak right to whatever we’re dealing with that day. Verity has been in the “spiritual game” for a number of years now, and has been taught variations of different philosophies many times, sometimes by teachers who frequently contradict themselves or don’t quite practice what they preach – and thus she has adapted what works for her, and what will get the best results for her clients, in her own unique style… so we were chatting before class about how she doesn’t always copy verbatim what gurus teach, she likes to be authentic and genuine to what feels right for her (it’s also why she’s so successful in her genuine approach). Similarly, my tarot cards two days in a row this week have spoken about now being the time for deep learning, but do not be a carbon copy of what you’re being taught, be original and unique with your approach. So Swamiji hit the nail on the head with his chat about “monkey vs cat learning” today – he discussed how monkeys learn by a (literal) ‘monkey see, monkey do’ mentality; they copy their mothers exact actions, swinging from tree to tree; also with their monkey mind not being able to focus on one task at a time. Whereas, a cat, when it is first born it sits in stillness until it’s mother picks it up by the scruff and moves it, the kitten be submissive to its ‘guru’ and then learns by doing in secret… he pointed out, you don’t see cats mating in public, giving birth in public, being all up in your face like a dog… cats are moving in silence, they don’t need to be loud and obvious like monkeys. Be like the cat… let your growth, changes and achievements happen in secret without having to broadcast to the world. He refers to many of the western-inspired yoga schools who offer ‘100 hour yoga teacher certification’ and people do these brief courses then promote themselves as a guru, with such limited understanding of the concepts of yoga it’s appalling to people who respect the traditions like he does. Once again, I feel grateful that we’ve come to an authentic ashram to get an introduction to kundalini in the proper way, but I’m starting to realise we won’t even be able to scratch the surface in 7 days (not that I expected to be deeply knowledgeable in a week, I just wanted an intro but Holy Ganesh there’s a lot to cover to understand how kundalini tantra works, let alone how to awaken your kundalini energy).

Verity is starting to feel very real frustrations about the heating situation as she is not coping in the cold, it felt especially arctic today as it was overcast and foggy in the mountains. She pushes a bit, and we manage to score a second heater so tonight I’ll be living it up with my own personal little hairdryer-level-of- power heater in my room thanks to her persistence. We’re warned not to let them run all night, as we’re told many people in India die from not getting enough oxygen when they use them all night (which Verity has done every night, unknowingly), and “Police coming asking questions when foreigners die causes big problems” – we get the feeling from their hesitation to supply more, that people have probably died here from this exact reason… but la la la, ask no questions hear no bad news.

Day 2: cramming our knowledge

Today is the first official day of our course, and I’ve been doing some study cramming by reading “Kundalini Tantra”, a book written by our ashram’s founding guru Swami Satyanada Saraswati which we found in the library/storeroom.

I knew from our initial chat with Swamiji upon arrival yesterday that he just assumes we are familiar with a lot of the Hindu names and terms for things, which I’m not really – and Verity learnt a lot of it in her yoga teacher training 8 years ago but has forgotten a lot as she doesn’t use it in her practice these days, so we’re both a little rusty. I’ve even started a cheat sheet note on my phone on all the main Hindu gods names, their main role in the culture and key traits of each, including pictures. Then there’s the Hindu names for all of the chakras, the difference between nadi, prana and how the sushumna flow affects the kundalini awakening and how it all ties in… And here I was thinking we signed up for the beginners course!

But our Hatha yoga instructor assured us that we’re in the best place in Rishikesh to learn the key philosophies of tantra, and she loves teaching at this ashram because unlike some others, the gurus here really honour the ancient traditions so we’re getting a real deep dive into kundalini tantra. As long as we can keep up I guess!

Our first lesson is with Sagrad, a smiley young Indian man who speaks better English than anyone we’ve met here so far, which is a relief – I can tell now that some of the teachings will be quite complex, so trying to understand their accent AND the philosophies presented was a little concerning. He took us through a variety of pranayamas, introducing us to some new Eastern-specialties of breathwork and gave us a bit of background on kundalini tantra – ok, we got this!

Breakfast was served with the overly attentive staff watching our every bite… we’d try to communicate with them, get to know them, but their English is nearly as bad as our Hindi. The young fella, Deneesh, is the cook; while a much older gentlemen with only one tooth is his helper, grounds maintenance, all-rounder. They were trying to tell us something important, repeating the same phrase in Hindi and us looking sadly perplexed saying “sorry, we don’t understand…” and when Daneesh tried to move on to explain another way, the older guy, Sareshim just kept looking right at me. He pointed to me and said, “She, Hindi..” and kept repeating the Hindi words, like he swore I could understand if he just gave me a moment to access that part of my brain. Again, I feel like I was Indian in a past life – and it felt in that moment like this spiritual old man knew it too, and thought I’d just be able to pluck out some Hindi from my soul’s memory and understand him any second. Sorry to disappoint buddy!

The schedule is a bit all over the place today, due to us starting early as the only attendees and it changed a few times throughout the day… We were waiting to start karma yoga, and our guru couldn’t think of anything to get us to do, so we took ourselves out for a walk to explore the local area. To our delight, lotsssss of Ayurvedic massage and treatment centres around, organic food shops galore and a dozen signs for drop-in yoga classes – V noted it has major Ubud (Bali) vibes in this part of town and I agree . We lost track of time until we got a text to say, our class is due to start… we quickly checked the schedule which said lunch was right about now (Oops, we’re gonna be late), but no mention of class until 3:30 but we were assured, no worries, shanti shanti… see you soon.

The walk back to the ashram was uphill, so thankfully we got a bit of heat in our blood rushing back cos we’ve been freezing, with triple layers on the top, bottom and even right down to the socks since we arrived. Swamiji suggested we sit outside of the temple in the sun for our lesson, where he introduced us to some basic ideas passed down from his gurus, the history of the Vedic scriptures & India’s past names before he launched into grilling us with the intro philosophical questions- “Who are you? How do you know that is you, by a label your parents gave you? You have a body but you are not your body. How do you know you have eyes? Who are you when you’re sleeping?” and we listened to him talk about India’s history, and why learning tantra in this way is the only way to truly learn it. I’m excited, but nervous as due to the small class sizes (Erm, two of us), when he’s grilling you for an answer & you take your best guess and he shoots back another question immediately… there’s nowhere to hide when there’s only two people he can call upon to answer his riddles!

After class, we have a tasty veg thali in the sunshine with the whole gang (the staff always eating after us, although we wish they’d join us, it’s not in their custom) then pull up some meditation cushions on the temple steps for self study. Our last class for today is hatha yoga with a beautiful Indian woman who speaks fantastic English; we start with the root chakra today and flow through all of them throughout the week. She builds our confidence talking about the unique difference of this ashram, so although we’re freezing and V doesn’t think she can handle sleeping without the heater (it’s my turn tonight, but the poor darl is freezing with her sinus infection as well so I’ll let her have it), I’m grateful to have this experience to learn the REAL kundalini tantra method. We’re stripped of our “western comforts” here, and I’m quite pleased with myself for being able to handle this simplistic lifestyle for a week (so far at least!).