India, I love you!

Jun 28 – Jul 6, 2011

Dharamkot and McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

Feeling India

Finally, after one intense experience following another for three months [as much as I was grateful for them], I stopped and had a chance to simply be with India. Right after my pancha karma at Kayakalp, I hopped on a bus to McLeod Ganj, the current home of H.H. Dalai Lama.

It so happened that I arrived on the day His Holiness was giving a 2-day teaching at his temple. In spite of the ample prophecies of everyone who heard of my intention to go to McLeod Ganj, I was able to rent a small place literally 1 minute away from the Temple! Though I did not have an official pass to the Teachings [one had to register in advance], I was still able to sit outsid of the main hall – together with many monks and pilgrims and listen to His Holiness' voice through the loud-speakers. The peace spread over the listeners – some in meditation, some drinking Tibetan chai being served by a temple volunteer – was palpable.

McLeod Ganj is truly an unusual place – a mini-island of Tibetan refugee culture mixed with all kinds of eclectic teaching centers [from the more traditional Yoga schools to the more “out there” centers like the Butoh Theatre School/Sub-body Method - in fact, I was lucky to be there during a 2 week "Butoh Festival" - a once-a-year occurrence].

[more about the Sub-body Method/Butoh: 

I came to think of it as a "primal chimera dance that unites all beings" : http://www.subbody.net/03theory/Butoh/Butoh_Frame_0.html]

Maroon-robed monks wander the foggy cobble-stone streets, ornate Tibetan thangkas and mandalas are sold here and there, 

tantra and Reiki classes ads serve as a background to the yak wool and hand-made silver jewelry stalls....many Kashmiris hold pashmina shops there too... a serendiptious hodge-podge of cultures and personalities boiling on the mystical foggy foothills to the Himalayas. There is flavour enough here to please the most curious taste buds.

After a few days there, though, I found that the somewhat rajasic pace of the town outside of the temple [a pace set mostly by the geigin/tourists] started to get to me....and I needed to migrate to the quiteter pastures.

That's how I found Dharamkot – a road-less village just over the hill from McLeod Ganj – about 2 km walk. There, the rhythm was much more reggae than foxtrot. Colourful family-run guesthouses sprinkled sparcely amidst the lyrically green hills, white horses

 and goats of all sizes and colours peacefully muching near the cobble-stone homes,

 mellow restaurants with pillow-layered movie rooms all are Dharamkot's pleasures I've discovered. 

Oh, and many, many relaxed into the oblivion Israeli folks smoking lots and lots of grass.

 It's one of those worm-holes one can stay at for a long time.....The air is clean, the clouds are touchable – they whift through the landscape and play the fog's role – and the heart rests there.

It was where I had the chance to finally just be with and experience the tremendous open-heartedness of the locals. There is harmony there that I haven't felt to that extent elsewhere. The folks there live in such balance with nature and each other – there's an almost tangible sense of community. The people there are so present. It was, as well as in Deepak's fields of Mahabharata, that I felt just how much the Vedic way of living has permeated every cell and move of those who grew up in that culture.

 I could imagine the same way of harmonious living being there 5-6 thousand years ago....in the “Vedic times.” It reminded me of the purity and essence of living I felt walking through the Nepalese villages.

All of a sudden, I remembered my long-forgotten dream to silver-work my jewelry designs into existence with my own hands. I've worked with minerals as a child.....but never with metal. So, immediately, I start seeing signs along the roads for “Silver and Gold Smith School.” It so happens that late at night I wander into a lovely Kashmiri jewelry shop. Somehow, a fiery conversation sparks between me and the shop owner, Manzoor, who turns out to design his precious-stone jewlery.

[if you are in the area, his shop is called "Treasure Box" - go and visit - his work is beautiful, and presence - even more so]

I share with him my dream of making some of my designs.....and he asks to see them. I take a napkin and draw a full collection that I just imagined. He says to not bother with the school I saw the ads for, but instead proposes to introduce me to his jewelry master, who makes a lot of his designs.

The next day, Manzoor and I walk up to the cliff-perched hut of Guru, the jewelry master he worked with for years. He turns out to be a gentle, as Manzoor put it, “innocent” man who invites me to sit with him in the workshop and proposes to teach me how to make my designs.

He gets excited that he never made something like that, but he can definitely teach me.

So, for the next 3 days, I spend over a torch side by side with Guru, making my dream into reality.....and, finally, the metal frame is ready for the stones. 

Manzoor happens to have the perfect aquamarine and an almost luminescent emerald droplet from Kashmir that fit into the design even better than I imagined. So, all of us sit around Guru's shop, surrounded by his glow-in-the-dark neon psychedelic canvases until midnight

 and I put the stones in the piece....and...tadaaaa! It's ready!

I wear that piece on my heart and smile every time I look at it. And it has a story to tell.....

From this experience, I realized that I'd probably never make silver jewelry myself again....but I now was familiar enough with the process of making something I designed, so I could give clear drawings to the good  master who will make them.

And then it was time to fly to Bali......it was the first time I cried leaving a country. I couldn't stop....especially, when I saw the Himalayas under me. Then I knew I had at least one place where my heart truly felt it belonged. I knew I would be back soon. I had to be.

I love you, India!