Sharing Time, Space and Success

This evening I talked with my parents for the first time since we landed - which is different than the nearly daily we'd been talking before leaving. Granted I was tired from the long and full day, but I was beginning to feel myself unable to communicate much more than the bare bones of my experience. "We went shopping and then lunch and then a concert..." It all seems rather banal, but I think it anchors me in some experience of linear time that escapes my reality when I'm just moving from one activity to the next.

Yesterday we drove from Bangalore to Mysore, which took nearly 4 hours. I had the joy and challenge of sitting in the front seat of the car. A joy because I get to see the surroundings unobstructed. A challenge because I have to see all of the things we almost run into... But everything on the road seems to swim with the same current, ripples made by friendly horn honks like tapping on the shoulder of an old friend. The backs of the trucks say " Sound OK Horn" or "Relax Sound Horn" in playful font, to reminding drivers (and passengers) not to take it all so seriously.

On the side of the road I saw one motorbike rider slide off onto his leg, having gotten startled by the rickshaw in front of him. The rickshaw driver and his companion moved to help him, but were doing so laughingly, as if they had just seen someone walk into a wall. I saw a little girl, holding hands with her mother, lose her shoe and tug on her mother's arm to go back. With some initial resistance her mother realized what she was trying to say and turned back with her. I saw vendors selling tires and shoes and inflatable pools, vendors walking up to cars in traffic selling toys and bags of fruit, and a little girl walking up to cars with a donation box. She looked in the eye of the drivers, earnestly inquiring, and when she received cash, she would slide the bill in the slit on the top of the box, tap the top to make sure it went all the way down, and move onto the next car.

The roads oscillated between highway and city center. In a more congested, urban region, we were stopped at a light for some time and I saw a young man flick a hand towel at the man standing next to him. A "rat tail" - a move I've been on the receiving end of before (thank you older brother). I watched to see how jovial the interaction was intended to be. Upon a closer look, it seemed hostile and I was so curious as to what was happening. The younger man couldn't have been more than 16, and the one he was antagonizing must have been in his 30s or 40s. There was a bit more towel snapping, the boy smiling and man scowling with glances towards the other men around them. No one seemed to be stopping the boy, and he got closer to the man, pushing him and gesturing around his neck, nearly strangling him - the way dogs snarl and wrap their teeth almost completely around the other's neck when they are beginning to fight . We drove off right as things were getting a bit heated, but I wondered why none of the many onlookers stepped in. I wondered about voyeurism and bystanders, justice and intervention, in places where there's not much personal space to begin with.



This morning we had a check-in where we shared our emotional state - one word/feeling that stuck out when we looked inside ourselves. It was really necessary for me, as someone with heavy feelings that can sometimes drown out sociability. To get the sense that I wasn't the only one with this "condition" helped ease the loneliness, and also gave a great foundation to make things together. All of us being artists and musicians in some capacity, it's been super fun and exciting to fantasize about - and actualize - projects inspired by our surroundings or little jokes made while killing time. That everyone brings their own skills and perspective and willingness to share depth makes it that much richer for flowing collaboration.

Getting into a rhythm with the whole group has been like raking leaves. Kicking up a whole lot of dust to organize disparate parts into one unified section. My mind races each night, not fully able to keep asleep after 5 or 6 hours of sleep (maybe the Malaria meds?), but lucidity comes through the day by leaning on others. We're beginning to knit a tapestry of sharing loads - admiring exhaustion or hunger, and finding that someone will commiserate or encourage.

It's been quite a beautiful and necessary thing. Along with the stunning and unique personalities of everyone on the trip, the reputation of the program has proceeded itself in terms of expectations and everyone seemed to come into it with a grasp on what they wanted, needed and were willing to put into it. Steve encouraged us bond even before he landed, and everyone seemed to easily follow suit from there. When we have free time, everyone has been either practicing self-care, reading up on the Ramayana or Bhagvad Gita or learning Kanada, or hanging out with each other. Each of these activities I feel are completely vital for our well being in upcoming next few weeks.

After breakfast we met with Sindhu to go shopping for clothes. We entered the building and filed into our gender separate shopping rooms, no larger than the dorms we are staying at in the hostel. The ladies room quickly got over heated and slightly emotional, as thing fit or didn't, looked fab or didn't, had the right size or didn't... We had our fair share of spiritual tests in that room, supporting one another and keeping cool. It took nearly 2 hours, and we got to see so many gorgeous pieces of clothing flow in and out of hands, colors and textures blending together into one stunning explosion. With our first shopping outing under tow, we excitedly look forward to sari shopping in the upcoming weeks....

Lunch was delicious - as all the meals have been! - and I eagerly chomped into an apple to start it off, closely followed by Steve's disapproval and my surrendering of control over what might happen to my body next. Apples aren't super safe food to eat - anything raw/with skins is discouraged. It was a good moment to reflect on where we all sat in the trade off of spontaneity and saftey, and maybe reinforce more mindful practices. ( I did make it through 24 hours without exploding, so lesson learned the easy way I suppose... )

After lunch a break (for me a snooze), and then to a Mysore Brother's concert, classical Indian music with 2 violins, a table, mridangam, jaw harp, and tambura. It was at the last hour of the Mysore Literary Festival, and we got to catch the last few minutes of the panel discussion. They were talking about fake news - how to catch it, what to do with it, and how to avoid it. Quick answers - don't get your news from social media, read between the lines, and qualify journalists (no more citizen journalists). I felt the most interesting points were made on this latter response, that in a world of freedom of speech and freedom of press, it is difficult to navigate integrity and credentials. Chai was had and then the band took the stage.

Mysore Brothers concert

The music was engaging in so many ways, being a visually striking conversation between the musicians, captivating for the ears, but most importantly giving the listeners something to hold onto. The musicians would periodically gesture their hands in a pattern to keep time, and almost every hand in the crowd moved along in the same way. I thought was so fun to participate in and to watch, and incredible to think about how accessible and unifying that made the music. Although we all have our own experience of the piece, this little thread of time keeping allowed a camaraderie that I don't often feel with Western classical music.

Standing at the palace today after the concert I was reminded of the fourth of July fireworks that I attended every year as a kid. There were families of all ages, running around with light up toys and snacks, all playfully anticipating this light show. It was the same sensation - everyone sitting or standing around, taking pictures, killing time until this one event happened that mesmerized and captured the eye, even for a moment. In a way it makes me think differently of the concept of "bread and circus" - that the government throws food and games at the people to make them distracted from the important things. But there's also something necessarily unifying about lighthearted group activities. How are we supposed to support each other if we don't know who our neighbors are? How can we unify if we lack a common language, a common cause? How can we fight together if we can't play together?

There was a sign at the hotel restaurant in Bangalore that read "Being together, beginning. Keeping together, progress. Working together, success." I read it every time I went up for seconds of dosas. It made me think of the challenges and rewards of simply being together. It's a feat to gather. A feat to gather peacefully. A feat to be, together. And that's just the beginning. From there, staying together - through emotions and instability, confusion and chaos. The rebellious and effortful act of staying together is what moves us forward. Only then can we work together, and working together we can accomplish anything.






Tomorrow we meet our gurus and then "begin learning," as an excited Anu has been fond of saying. We'll watch some orientation videos about the Swami Vivikenanda Youth Movement and Swami Vivikenanda Institute for Indian Studies. Maybe attend another concert in the evening. Tomorrow the routine ascends. It will be interesting to see how we all settle into our grooves, change and expand our minds, and deepen our understandings of ourselves and our surroundings. This land is already speaking to us through the food, through the people we've met and seen, through the sensory explosion that is just being. The nuances will no doubt reveal themselves, and their illusory nature. May we remain curious and find grounding that serves to remind of our initial intentions. May we keep sharing the challenging and ease-full, and never forget what is created in doing so.


*photos by Anurima Kumar*