Experiences

If there was ever a metaphor for one’s spiritual journey, then this was it. The journey until Lonavala was humdrum enough to be pointless. Lonavala, as we sped past it, was distressing with its crowd, ugly buildings, and litter. Bushi dam at the outskirts of Lonavala was submerged in a sea of humanity. It was more remarkable to encounter a sea of humanity on top of the hills, scampering up the two once-scenic waterfalls. We were caught in a silly near-stationary traffic jam there caused by pedestrians, shops, unregulated parking and a mountain of litter for almost 45 minutes. As we sat fretting, fuming and ravening (it was way past our lunch time), we thought of God for the first time. Miraculously we got past what seemed like “samsara” and the road rose steadily uphill, winding its way through green slopes. Crowd thinned, although we saw another knot of people at Lion point, doing very strange things such as riding a camel! Immediately past Lion point—silence. The woods aro...

Yes, I have been about this year, mostly with my glorious travel companions. From sea shore to hills to deep jungles, we went everywhere. We baked in 45-degree temperatures, squelched and waded in monsoon rains, and walked endlessly in salubrious weather. The most significant thing about this is the subtle difference that has come over me as a traveler. Traveling has become a spiritual experience, at least in parts. It could be because I stop to observe birds, wild flowers, insects, and water droplets on blades of grass from behind my camera a lot nowadays, especially after learning the basics of macro photography. The point is in every trip, there is a moment I feel I understand the world, nature, and perhaps even God better. I feel connected. I feel integrated. I feel grateful to be here. Who else to describe what I feel eloquently than Subramania Bharathi: Ethanai kodi inbam vaithai iraiva Chithinai achithudan inaithai Angu cherum iym bhoothathu viyanula chamaithai Athanai ula...