Travelling to magical Jaisalmer in RajasthanAt the western edge of India, in the middle of the world’s second-largest desert, the fairytale kingdom of Jaisalmer appears, as if by magic, like a golden mirage in a desolate landscape
Despite the chaos of unmarked coaches, the train left the sodden grey bedlam of New Delhi Railway Station on time. But it still took more than 21 hours to reach the far side of Rajasthan, India’s largest state. Stuck in a cramped compartment, with nothing to look at but flat desert terrain, I had plenty of time to think about the heavy heart I was dragging from Delhi; and wonder if the long journey to Jaisalmer would be worth the effort. (more…)
“It was called the Ship of Dreams.” Today, April 4, the Titanic in 3D movie opens in theatres, in anticipation of the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic on April 15, 1912. I will be in Halifax — the only officially designated Titanic city in North America — on April 15, 2012 for the commemoration events. I wrote a blog about my plans: The legend of the Titanic lives on.
Fully 100 years later, people are still fascinated by this tragedy. The James Cameron-directed Titanic movie is the second highest grossing movie of all time (after Avatar, another Cameron flick). And the Titanic 3D movie is sure to do well this time around. See trailer, below.
This blog post is about why the Titanic fascinates me, and the strange and uncanny connections I have had with this story throughout my life. To find out, read … (more…)
Anna Hazare (left) on stage, April 8, 2011 in New Delhi
At ground zero of the Anna Hazare anti-corruption movement
Today, day three of the protest, I joined thousands of people from all walks of life at Jantar Mantar, in the centre of Delhi, to provide my support to a quiet, gentle determined man who recently declared he would fast unto death to end corruption in India. I arrived fairly early, about 10:30 am, to find a large number of people, and an almost equally large number of media, gathered together around a tent-covered stage. I was lucky to be there when the man at the centre of the action, nicknamed “Anna Hazare,” was on stage. I found the atmosphere to be relaxed, positive and festive; and when I filed past the stage, I was struck by Hazare’s powerful yet quiet presence. He seemed rock-solid, sitting on that stage, though he has been fasting for several days. (more…)
Air India Memorial
June 23, 2010 is the 25th anniversary of the Air India tragedy. On this date 25 years ago, a bomb exploded on an Air India plane carrying 329 passengers while flying over the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Ireland. Everyone on board perished. The prime minister of Canada called the prime minister of India to offer condolences — though most of the people lost were Canadian.
This tragedy touches me because it happens to touch the country of my birth (Canada), the county and country of my ancestry (Cork, Ireland — the site of the handsome memorial) and the country of my heart, India. It also touches me because I feel the victims’ families have not been properly respected; nor has justice been served. In fact, the whole episode, from the “cascading series of errors” before the explosion to the delayed Commission of Inquiry report and general cultural denial, is a Canadian embarrassment.
Lata Pada
The best thing I have read about the tragedy was a story by Mary Lou Finlay, called Air India: Lest we Forget, in the Toronto Star newspaper on June 16, 2010. Ms. Finlay tells the stories of how two of the victim’s survivors slowly rebuilt their lives — dancer Lata Pada and Dr. Anant Anantaraman. Lata Pada — who lost her husband Vishnu and two daughters, Brinda and Arati — went on to found a dance company and was given the Order of Canada in 2009. Dr. Anantaraman — who lost his wife Bhawani and his daughters Rupa and Aruna — went back to India to recover and started a school for poor children, a school that is now thriving.
People who can live through such tragedy, and find a way to create and give, deserve our admiration. And all of the victims and their loved ones deserve a moment of silent remembrance.
Outdoor yoga class at temple, Varanasi
India hits most foreign visitors with sensorial overload, especially during the first few weeks after arrival. It takes time to become acclimatized to the crowds, noise, pollution, language, culture, religious practises and the way people relate to each other, and to foreigners.
When you visit or move to any new country, there are so many things to get used to. This is especially true if the new culture is extremely different from what you’re used to. And India is about as far from orderly, efficient, sparsely populated, wealthy and cold Canada as you can get.
However, one of India’s most popular cultural exports, yoga, was readily available in my hometown (Toronto) and I practiced and studied it for well over 10 years before I set foot in India for the first time.
Front gate of "the Beatles ashram," Rishikesh
This blog is dedicated to my older brother Matthew. If it wasn’t for his Beatles obsession in the late 60s and early 70s, I might never have come to India. I used to follow him around when we were children, which meant listening to a lot of Beatles music. I remember looking intently at the pictures of the Beatles — especially George Harrison, my fave — wearing long hair, flowing shirts and marigold garlands. I had always loved anything “Oriental, exotic and mystical,” and when the Beatles went to India, I was entranced. I secretly wished I was old enough to be a “hippie” and join them. (more…)
Har-ki-Pauri, Haridwar during Maha Kumbh Mela
April 14, 2010 was the highly auspicious final Royal Bathing Day at the Maha Kumbh Mela – the biggest and perhaps most important spiritual festival in the Hindu world, and the largest gathering of humanity on earth. As I was staying at my spiritual home, Aurovalley Ashram, just about 10 kilometres upstream from Haridwar, I found myself caught up in the excitement. And on the morning of the big day itself, I found myself alone, smack in the centre of the Kumbh Mela, at the extremely sacred Har-ki-Pauri ghat in Haridwar, surrounded by millions, probably tens of millions, of pilgrims, devotees, tourists, naga sadhus, babas, sunnyasis, pandits, swamis, VIPs and god knows who else. All the roads into and out of Haridwar in every direction were closed for miles around, the sun was climbing and the temperature was starting to soar to above 40 C. It was one of the peak experiences of my life: In that moment, I had to face my fears. (more…)
Swamiji entering one of the gates of Aurovalley Ashram
One evening at Aurovalley Ashram, I walked out of the circular white meditation hall and into the verdant Rishidwar valley soaked in a mauve sunset. The air was filled with devotion. Devotional chants came from both the nearby sadhu’s ashram on the Ganga and from the Kumbh Mela 12 kms down the valley, in Haridwar. Even from the ashram grounds, I could see the lights of Kumbh Mela temples blazing on the hill tops around the sacred city. Many varieties of birds added their songs of love to the devotional mix, as did the warm breeze that blew down from the Himalayan foothills. (more…)
On the morning of April 14 approximately 10 million people streamed into the sacred town of Haridwar in north India to bathe in the Ganga on the most auspicious day during the 2010 Kumbh Mela. I was one of them. Find out how I found myself alone, and at home, at the world’s largest spiritual gathering.
In Varanasi, where the veil between life and death seems very thin, a boat ride on the river can become a journey to the other side. Come along with me on a boat ride on the Ganges River in India’s oldest, holiest city and pierce the veil.
The Ganges / Ganga River is the Mother of India. The River speaks in many voices as she travels from the high Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal. At the source, her song is joyous, full of the the jubilance of youth, the rush of fresh mountain streams, the sincere chanting of pilgrims and the excitement of the onward journey.
