Beyond the hype

Has there been something that you never got, something so hyped that you didn’t see what the deal was, until one day, all of a sudden you went, ohhhhhhh!

I must’ve been a prissy child growing up, because I thought I preferred apples over mangoes. Don’t get me wrong, I still love apples. The subtle tart sweetness, the crunch, the colour… but mangoes – the magic of Banganpalle, the glorious cream of Himayat – were only revealed to me later.

Same thing with this ‘hari chutney’ business. South Indian prejudice about a North Indian favourite. Then one day, with a generous slather of mayonnaise and thin cucumber slices, I had hari chutney in a sandwich. The flavours had me closing my eyes in worship. 

Somehow I have always had trouble making it though. The coconut chutney we make almost every other day has the volume-providing coconut and roasted gram, which makes it wholesome. But the ingredients in green chutney grind themselves into an insubstantial paste. Make too much, it turns black and spoils before you can use it all, make too little and there’s hardly enough for the mini mixie jar to get its teeth into. Occasionally, I’ve even taken mortar and pestle to it, so that I can make just as much as I want. I made a decent sized batch today and I foresee sandwiches, samosa and pani-puri-at-home in the near future.

Aamad Aamad!

Greetings, dear ones, on the occasion of the Summer Solstice.

Which also appropriately doubles up as the International Day of Yoga.

And then also, today’s the day when Sadhguru returns home, after a gruelling, extremely arduous 100-day solo motorcycle journey to bring about awareness that our soil is dying, and that we should do something drastic and now, if we are to save the earth from certain disaster.

 

In today's The Times of India

Before he left, outlining his route through 27 nations and a variety of climates, he had asked, ‘do you think I’ll make it?’ I’ll admit now, it had struck chill in our hearts. What did he mean? Why was he even asking such a thing? Why even think of not making it? Because with assurance comes complacency. Because in safety, we are content to sit back a little. He was living life on the edge every moment, with no safety net; the next moment of life was a gift, not a privilege. So, I suppose, it is for all of us, whether on a motorcycle adventure or no.

***

Somewhere on Day 2 or 3 of the journey, Sadhguru was riding through a drizzle. A volunteer in the pilot vehicle asked him over radio if he wished to pull over for a bit. There was a trace of a chuckle in Sadhguru’s voice: we have an event to get to, he’d said, let’s push on.

Looking back at that moment makes me laugh – little did we know the weather conditions that awaited on the entire journey. Snow, rain, sleet, winds so strong they threatened to lift the front wheels of Sadhguru’s 350-kg bike, incessant poor visibility conditions with only one mad motorcyclist on the highways of Europe. Constantly getting from one place to the other on a tight schedule, events, meetings, interviews given on the move….

Then in Arabia came the heat. 47˚C that melted the tar off the roads. I cannot even imagine being in a helmet with protective gear, poor guards against the tiny particles of sand that penetrated the nostrils and every pore of the body. Even in India, the heat continued through Gujarat and Rajasthan, and it was only when Sadhguru reached Maharashtra did the cool monsoons greet them. The last legs are done, and Sadhguru comes home today.

Ask him why he goes through this, and he says it’s because he couldn’t get through to people otherwise. For us Isha walas, it’s been a restless time. Apart from raising a din about soil, there wasn’t enough to do except watch our Guru put himself through the most trying of penances. How to sleep soundly at night, knowing he’s out there riding through god knows what peril? Many stepped out on journeys of their own making, trying in spirit to be with him. One man set off from Kashi on foot to make his way to Isha Yoga Center in Coimbatore. He reached there last week. In Europe, many meditators set out to traverse parts of the ancient pilgrimage Via Francigena to greet Sadhguru in Rome. There have been innumerable motorcycle journeys, cycle journeys, marathons, padayatras across the world; one 11-year-old roller-skated from Hyderabad to Nagarjuna Sagar.

It was the same spirit perhaps that had Shweta and me embarking on two huge itineraries in a span of a couple of months. Just before Sadhguru was flagged off in London, we toured the temples of Tamil Nadu, touching the four pancha bhuta sthalas (the fifth is in Andhra) and everything else we encountered en route. Then towards the end of the summer, we went to Maharashtra which holds four jyotirlingas and a rich cluster of samadhis.

This morning, as I cooked, Nusrat and party sang Khabaram raseed im shab ki nigaar khuahi aamad… Tonight, word has come that the beloved arrives…