From Arrival to Present

On our arrival , Sven and the Ashram dog .

Mani one of my friends working on the hill

Morning News at Joyti's.

I spotted this man in dirty garb and thought of the Avadhuts that keep to themselves, he appears to be partly blind .He is constantly doing Girivalam .

Bumping into Mooji on Pradakshina route .

At the Bangalore road turn off . Behind the Ganapati shrine .

Sadhu and white dog at Sani Theertha , next to Niruthi Lingam



The lotus Lake we came across on the 120 km bike trip I did .




One of the fields looking up to the hills .




It was very bumpy on my Kinetic but I got to see this !

Gunatita

View from Kannapa shrine at sunset

She moved holding a pair of small green crocs . I stood up abruptly and exclaimed "are they yours?!" The round ball like figure turned daintily with big eyes as my finger pierced the moist air . "No " she said as she pointed to another lady . "there hers!", her quivering voice said in return. My eyes landed upon the woman in question , her jet white hair falling neatly up to her shoulders , her eyes, openly shimmering came with a broad pearl white smile . She looked like someone lost but very happy as she meet my inquiring barrage of questions one after the other . It was an accident !! Oh now was it ? I then told them how I had just written the story below . The first lady carrying the crocs then said " Was it good ?" ,
"No it was not good ! ", as I then explained how I had just travelled into town to purchase a pair of cheap Indian strap ons . Their sorrowful expressions of regret filled the air as I told them of the consectutive losses I had to go through . The motherly look shone and melted away all confusion and disease . Once again I was happy without a care , and I was given due directions to an ashram where my crocs lay .

Gunatita : Beyond all three.

This Grandmother has turn my three bitches into the unknown quality , that of Gunatita . Beyond all three gunas , the qualityless . Which leads me onto another aspect of this journey which has unfolded in a magical Tantric way , and not as I have at all expected . For that I have to thank the feminine principle , which is formidable here in the Shakti shrines that I have come across .But more about this in another post.

Shakti Devotees during Girivalam.

I have been going through alot of fire in the last weeks having given up smoking and just seeing the flames lick up all the deep feelings as they come to drag me into another drag !
A walk up the mountain !

Leaving Your Mind where You Left Your Chappals

Thiruvannamalai town with Arunachaleshwara temple in foreground.

Tiruvannamalai- the dirty dusty feet are pickeled with the sandy road particles as I make my way to the mechanical beast that zips me around the fast, dodging traffic . I jarred at the sight of missing chappals , my serene detattched elegance is dramatically altered to one of slight panic and dismay at the pair of inferior rubber sandals left in there place ,grudgingly a hole merges out from underneath it's sole . The advantage of a thief is in the carelessness of the owner . "Trust! and be okay , but don't curse that stranger who slyly took your precious footwear" or.......... is it "Trust in Allah and tether your camel" .

Diabolo

The formless ghost speaks so holy and molely! Then a moment later the Diabolo comes and says "May they have a sprained ankle in the next 15 minutes!!! . Imaginary things that appear real creating a devil in reaction- "thats okay , really okay ". I dance gingerly along towards my kinetic beast machine, remembering the clear elagance that enlightened me before the grand dissolution . "Rascal! " as I dangerously drive looking at the feets of every passer by , feet, feet, feet and more feet ! I certainly can sense this capper from another angle; it is if I am space and there on the screen is the movie of "The Lost Chappals" ,

seeing the Persuing soles

this character has become the "chota" mad wandering Burmese Italian, perusing every sole for the liberation of his bare soles. Oh! As he feels the sweeping curtain fall over this search .He resigns..... and heads home , left with what is considered to be ugly- blue Crocs.

I'm gonna catch em

Feeling their snugglingness I race from and into town with the plumber , from shop to shop , his voice a distant echo . "Slow down ! slow down, slow, slow, slow !!" As I apply the brakes I begin to see how much easier it is , yet realise I just want to get the plumber out of the way . It is just dangerously unpredictable having a plumber and electrician to taxi to and fro. It gets very tiring not knowing when they are not going to finish.Pass buses that jive and careen with an aftermath of blasting particles; spewing an invisible plethora of grime and sandpaper grazing face polisher!My squinting eyes will always open up after and my crouching form straightens up for the clear view of old women , cows , bycycles and rickshaws moving around, in and away all at once . Finally the electrician and plumber leave , as they sit on my toilet and wait for the glue to dry around the pipe that has been leaking , yes they said they were going to finish an hour ago . I have tried my best to make their stay as fun as possible by playing a remix of Sarah Mc Laclan , also tried some Indian music but it was more in style with North Indian Bhajans. Even tried a little pink Floyd but I think they felt stranger with every track I had in mind for them . So I settled for a nice Ram Bhajan and started to sing along while they inhaled poisonous glue which was amazingly toxic , still they wanted to change the music. I then tried to placate this potency with some very beautiful sandal wood incense but the music did'nt work for them , they needed Tamil music.

I tried to placate them .

I try to buy a CD on the way from the Temple and the body feels drained at each step through the bustle and racing pace of town . So quick action means to take the shortest route back to my room. Sorry chaps , I pay for the work, better to be finnished with it all .

Better to be finnished with it all .

I wander half sleepy, brain drained , probably from inhaling the glue and sit on Tasty (restaurant) roof almost emotionlessly dry and disinterested, as three women sit in front of me animatedly chatting about something; their voices are just a jumble way , a mumble and a fumble. As I reach into my bag , a lucky dip for my phone . The skinny Indian one gets up and places her hands on her chest as she looks to me and smiles , then the pretty one , a Mooji lover with smooth olive skin and beautiful black abundant hair catches my admiring glance - her eyes look down revealing her pleasantness in secret. The third is a fat momma looking a little like my Nonna and decidedly South American, her scrappy t shirt makes her look like she did'nt care , pounded away . I wait and feel the tiredness sink in and realise that I have been invited to sing out on the Bangalore road somewhere. With a full effort , pretty much like an astronaught I rise and pay the bill. There is a jumble of slippers and shoes one has to walk over and through, somewhere lies the only pair of Crocs I have .But in their place is only confusion and darkness. Within me I hear the word "bitch !" emerge like a gigantic whore, the elegance of my tiredness slipped into a mount Vesuvius as I see a smaller pair of Crocs which my shrek like feet cannot fit into! Hands waving like a hundred windmills , as if all my ancestors gesticulate with what is missing from the Pizza. I exclaim my disapointment more with sharp like staccato "bitches!" , I then remember God is in a bitch and he is a bitch .

God is a beautiful bitch

I now patrol the streets looking for that stupid bitch who took my Crocs . Is she the good looking one , the ugly one or the disgusting one ? How about miss Sattva, Rajas and Tamas ? I will soon know as the hunt for my crocs continues and I become the hunter ready to shoot down my prey . Or possibly love them for maybe it is a sign to start walking instead.Today I will ride in to town to get new chappals .The rest is to be revealed.

The rest is to be revealed .