Tonight We Board a Train

So I'm sitting on the floor in my underwear, while strains of John Lennon stream behind me, preparing to board a train to Chennai. We've been here in Hyderabad with the Nandula crew for the last two weeks. As I said earlier, being around this little family is just so calming, inspiring, energizing, and still goes deeper than that. The first week was spent mostly at home while the rest of the family went off to work or school. Our days were filled with many important matters: napping, reading, snacking, and gazing down on the small herds of water buffalo lazily making their way across the fields out back. A lot of quiet time--provided Josh wasn't discussing the implications of our infinite cosmic architecture or the apocalyptic possibilities of environmental inaction. We went to a cultural performance and fashion show at Shim's old University (National Institute of Fashion Technology)... not sure how to describe this, other than a strange mix of young western musical influences combined with Indian youthful traditions and expressions. Does that make any sense? It didn't to me... But they were still entertaining performances and if that was the aim--it was dead on. The next night we went to a little performance by Mayukh's school, which also had dancing and singing and feats of "chess-strength" by 6 and 7 year old boys. Vijay leaned over to me and whispered, during one such feat, "I can't play that boy...he'd kill me." We met Shim's parent's: a 73 year old man, who looks like he's 50, grinned widely and gave Josh and I an extremely tight handshake, three hugs where he squeezed us slowly as hard as he could and then another hard, prolonged handshake...this was apparently a very traditional Hyderbadi greeting, one with Muslim influence, that older locals have done all their lives. Her mother is a quiet, pleasant, and crisp looking woman who gave us soft smiles and caring glances. We met Vijay's father at a train station. He was twirling his cane, waiting for the train, smiling and would ask us a question or two in between long silences. Vijay and him quietly caught up on how meditation and yoga are going, how their health is, etc. At one point I guessed that his age was 55, he said he was in his 70's, then told me and Josh to feel his arm (like gripping a 40 pound bag of sand) and his thigh (like tree trunks). Then he smacked Josh hard on the back (Josh doubled over a bit) and said, "Any children?" It went on like this until his train arrived and he promptly picked up his things and got settle on the train. We went out to the Krishnamurti Center again to hear a talk by a Buddhist scholar who was a contemporary of Krishnamurti, ate out at fancy restaurants a couple times, went out on some drives, visited a nearby temple at sunrise, went to Vijay's office, and generally try to pass on bad habits to Mayukh and joke with Shim and Vijay.

Every so often I'll get pangs of homesickness. I'll miss groggy zazen with the Choboji folks, sleeping next to Sunny and laughing with the family around Grandma's dinner table...Josh, too, said he misses certain things (notably, Caesar Salad). But there are many more things to see here, many more experiences to be had, heard, felt. And there's nowhere else we'd rather or should be (there's a recession back home anyway). Everything seems Just So.

Our next stop is Auroville. After we get settled, Josh will put in a "guest-post" and we'll let you know how things are progressing. Not much more to share. Hope you're all well and enjoying the snow that I was told fell in the Northwest last week (It's been a constant 95 everyday here... which brings a pain of its own I guess). Thinking of you often--

Mayukh (second boy from right) in the final performance of the night.