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(Any)-Acharam. From someone who doesn’t know anything about it and couldn’t care less.

Reverse Perspective.

Often I find myself sitting with my friends and laughing about the weirdness of Namboodaries and other “wanna be holy” sanyasis. People who won’t touch us because we are unclean. People, to whom we are “untouchables”. Before we continue with the Namboodari bashing let’s gain some perspective.

Imagine your mom is being prepared for surgery. Some surgeon has (hopefully that day) showered and put on all his sterilized scrubs, rubber gloves and all. Some random person sneezes all over his get up. Would you want him to say “Forget about it…” and walk into the operating theatre? Or would you want him to re-do all his cleanliness procedures before continuing to surgery? I would feel very uncomfortable with a surgeon opening up my mom with snot from someone else all over him.

For a physical procedure we demand physical cleanliness.

Spiritual Cleanliness.

For a spiritual task should we demand spiritual cleanliness? What is spiritual cleanliness?
I know that I cannot demand something that I cannot understand.
But what I have understood from a decade of self-observation are the following:

Thoughts jump – not concrete thoughts, but intentions, ideas and desires jump. By sitting around someone who strongly feels, or wants something, you start wanting similar things IF you already had latend desires for it. As an example I used to love shrimp kotthu rotti before I was vegetarian. If I spend some time with someone who is craving shrimp I’d walk away with a nostalgic feeling about the last time I had shrimp. If this is compounded with other notions it may lead to me eating shrimp. But since I have distanced myself from shrimp, it’s not likely. But if it is something I still do – like a nice triple/triple at Tim Horton’s, then most likely I will satisfy the desire thinking it was my own. Well, it is my own desire but it was not something that my “self” had wanted.

Other people’s ideas can produce reactions. Let’s say I used to rape little children in my previous birth. Seeing a rapist, or being in a room with a rapist, will stir up fear – as I am afraid that his active ideas will awaken dormant ideas I have rejected. The fear will evolve into anger and possibly hate, but definitely a slanted attitude. Admittedly, we shouldn’t welcome rapist – but this maybe true for other more acceptable ideas such as lying, eating meat etc.

Hormonal states have mental counter parts. And these mental counterparts are expansive and aggressive. In the sense that they seek homogenity. So spending a lot of time with someone who is hyper will make your mind resonate ever closer to that person’s mental state. If you have no outlet, like a good place to sleep, a person who anchors you, or a guru who flushes everything out, the incremental increase will lead to an eventual, permanent change.

Food is life – so it caries thoughts and ideas. And the problem with food is that in most cases your body will try its utmost to integrate the food into the system, which means you are basically opening up wide. Next time you eat out record yourself and see which direction your conversations wander (watching your thoughs is even better, but it is hard to be an uninvolved observer).

But my point of view is that if I am doing something for someone else, I need to purify myself to the greatest amount known to me. And for the sake of the person I am doing the ritual for I have to ensure that I stay that “clean”. And I know that when I sit down to do a ritual that requires more of me than just pretending – but that requires me to maintain an active focus, and active involvement in the energy generation and direction of whoever the ritual is being done for, I cannot afford thoughts that mislead me. I need a clean slate.

So whatever spiritual cleanliness is, it is not something that should be neglected.

But the biggest problem, and the source of all these Namboodari jokes, is the self serving attitude. The cleanliness and purity is required of me, not because the other person is “dirty” – it is because I am “dirty”. If I was 100% clean nothing could touch me, but because I myself have issues that are still unresolved, I need to set up procedures and methods so that my problems don’t become other people’s problem.

I strongly believe that all Acharas (which I think just means “a way” or “a tradition”) were established with a selfless motive. An idea established to prevent our own shortcomings from pulling down everyone else. But sadly it is taught from a point of view of superiority and elitism. This has lead to misunderstanding and misapporpriation. And is possibly the reason our acharas are lost.

To bring these ideas back yelling them out from the loudest microphone will only land on deaf ears. It will also only produce forced compliance – not compliance by choice.

We need to investigate the practical roots of these old traditions and integrate them into our current live style. An example is white sugar. The last time a tantra, or purana or any scripture was written, processed white sugar did not exist. So does this implicitly mean that we can have all the white sugar since no traditions suggests otherwise? Other rules reflected attitudes prevalant in those times  - it would be foolish to adopt old rules, simply because of their antiquity.

Achara, as far as I can tell, is not Veda. It was written by humans, for humans. Maybe great humans, but did this human purposefully and meaningfully address current developments? Having a cell phone in the kitchen might be worse than swearing – we don’t know. Nobody looked into it.

So beyond adopting acharas in the name of tradition and culture, and beyond adopting them with a smug attitude of superiority, we should evaluate, consider and create an achara that is both relevant and purposeful.

I would like any achara I follow to include

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle – before plastic and non-degradable materials were developed, recycling was implicit. Any tradition that does not consider recycling important in this century should be ashamed of itself. In my books (and my books may have misprints…) our spiritual tradition is rooted in understanding and working with nature. I believe our old traditions took synchrnocity and an understanding of nature as a given not requiring additional codification. In the last century we have moved so far away from nature – I haven’t touched a tree from when I was 12 until I came to the temple at age 23, I’ve never hugged a cow that gave me milk (excluding my mother I suppose…), and until I practiced QiGong at age 25 I did not experience the pleasure of walking barefoot through grass. Reduce, reuse, recycle is a simple, practical and purposeful step that maybe discomforting to us, but lays a foundation to understanding that nature and us are one and we need to take care of each other.

Use organic – again, as recent as the 1900s everything was organic. No need to mention anything about the need for organic products in old traditions. These days the profusion of chemicals has come to the point that a fruit just looks and tastes like a fruit, but has been stripped of most of its essence. Sadly, organic products are expensive due to several reasons: 1) it’s great marketing, 2) it’s easy and cheaper to produce food the other way, 3) because we choose cheaper food, we create a demand for cheap food, creating a market incentive to make even cheaper food. We should start with organic milk. Yes, it costs twice as much. But if it is money we are concerned about why not just use water. But if we want milk, why not use real milk? Or maybe milk was just a product that had some compounds (maybe it was the calcium that we want?) Either way, let’s not fool ourselves in thinking that the effectiveness of 1 gallon regular milk = 1 gallon organic milk abhishekam.

This is a tiny list and I invite other to add to it. But I believe that any achara that cannot at least address the above two has no place in 20^th century North America. It’s like worrying about the effects of heat exposure due to the sun while your house is burning down.

Nothing is meant to be.

The Hubble Telescope maps 1600 galaxies in an area the size of a grain of sand held at arm’s length. Without complicating things, we can say that Hubble can map over a trillion galaxies. Each with over 100 million stars. There are stars whose radius is larger than Earth’s orbit. And the age of the universe estimated at 14 billion years is considered teenage at most.

So in all this, to think that you not getting that job, or you avoiding that fatal collision was “meant” to be as if the universe had some secret plan just for you – is a little childish. If you died today, the other 10^99 lifeforms in this universe, excluding your immediate friends, couldn’t care less. A star is probably going super nova right now and the universe is way too busy managing the loss of an entire solar system with all its life forms to painstakingly worry about making sure that you will be able to take your morning coffee without spilling it on your shirt.

Karma, sure.

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try things seemed to just be going one way. This is not some secret agenda that the universe has plotted. It is also not part of any particular plan that the universe has hatched. There is no script for your life, and God is not watching you as a show. Your life is definitely not as interesting  as you might imagine for God to be watching you – for a being that can witness the collusion of galaxies, your latest trip to the mall wouldn’t seem that fascinating.

What you experience is your own Karma – the time delayed fullfillment of the consequences of your desires. It is like the after taste of that thing you tasted previously. Karma has a way of fullfilling itself – but it has no meaning. It has no purpose. It is just you, experiencing yourself, doing the things you do. You do good, you experience good (whatever good may mean). You do silly things, expect the same.

Karma is the ego’s love for itself. And your love for your ego will see Karma fullfill itself. But your Karma, nor your experience of that Karma, has any meaning. You live and you die. In between you make a big deal about everything you do.  But really, you are just a flea trying to move the sun.

Free Will?

Free will is there for those who have calmed their minds. For most a reaction is already executed before we realize. We are already angry, already afraid, already worried, already we threw the punch, expressed our judgment, already abandoned hope…when a mind makes conclusions so fast without us ever knowing where and why, free will is not an option. When the mind starts acting as an advisor not as an exectuer – we have a chance. The mind presents, we choose. The mind presents anger we choose love. The mind presents hate, we choose acceptance. The mind presents attachment, we choose sterness. That doesn’t mean that we can’t sometimes choose what the mind presents. But if we are not choosing inside of ourselves, we will never choose anything outside of ourselves – and we wil simply just swing from stimulus to reaction.

Dharma – Duty

Artha – Wealth

Kama – Desire

Moksha – Desire

In the kali yuga it is said that dharma only has one leg.

So dharma cannot stand.

Dharma is the cause of our birth. In our veins runs the blod of our ancestors. And their desires are in us. Their collective desires is our dharma. But, kali yuga complicates things. The artha does not match the dharma. And after a few years of living, the kama does no match the dharma anymore either.

To illustrate, the deisre of my ancestors may be that I should buy a home and marry a beautiful wife and draw the respect and admiration of those around me. But I might be forced to migrate into a foreign land where I am an outcast, poor and could not possibly satisfy those dreams. Over time, all remnats of that desire is lost and a new desire takes over. So I will spend most of my life pursuing desires not in line with my dharma. I will continously seek fullfillment and happiness in these desires, but will never find more than temporaliy relief. The old dharma as time passes changes from difficult to impossible and I will let go of it all together.

So the dharma will fall.

And such is the kali yuga – the imbalance between dharma, artha and kama prevents moksha. My unfullfilled dharma will live in me as regret, and take birth again in my children. And my children’s artha will be so far removed from their dharma, that they cannot even begin to imagine fullfilling it. So their kama will from their birth be very different from their dharma. They will pursue other dreams, hoping again that they will find happiness there. That, too, will always be shortlived happiness and result in rebirth.

There is two ways (possibly millions, but just two that I am aware of) of mitgating this imbalance.

Often I see a mother walk with her little daughter.

Children fall in love with everything they see. So even though the mother pulls with one hand, the child tries to grab anything she can with her other hand. If something strong enough does somehow come within her grasp, she will hold on with all her strength. Then the mother will pull even harder, and after some crying, some protesting and some more pulling, the daughter will eventually let go and go with the mother. Sometimes the child realized that it no longer could hold on without being in serious pain, and sometimes the mother made letting go sweeter by promising something else in return. So the daughter will let go and walk with the mother. But the moment something new catches the eye, the child will again pull with a stubborn insistence towards the new object of her affection. And again the mother has to deal with it, and figure out a way of how to get the child home. Again some pulling, some bargaining, some yelling – eventually the child will let go again and they’ll start walking. This will happen quite sometime. Eventually, however, the kid will get too tiered to keep pulling. So even though the child see things she likes, she no longer cares; there is no more energy left. So the kid just trots along, every now and then tighten its grip on the mother’s hands to feel some of the mother’s warmth. The kid sees all the beautiful things that she could have, but the thought of home, a soft couch, a cartoon and maybe some ice cream at home seem much better. But the daughter never knows how long the way actually can be. Eventually her legs will get tiered and she’ll start hugging the mother’s leg with her arms, being too weak to keep standing. So the mother will pick her up and carry her home. At first she will enjoy her new position and her eyes with new found strength will look every where, with the certain comfort, knowing that she is being carried by her mother and now there no longer is a need to fear. Anything can be looked at dead on, nothing needs be feared and everything, however close it maybe, seems a little smaller. The daughter in her new found joy will imagine that she will look on forever, but eventually without knowing it herself, will fall asleep –  and without her ever knowing will reach home.

If the way is short, the daughter will reach home, still strong enough to hold on to many things. And when she reaches home, not tiered enough, will be disgruntled for a long time and only after dinner and desert will she lighten up. All she remembers is that the way was painful, and that she didn’t get what she wanted. Crying deep into the night, she will eventually fall asleep.

If the way was just a little longer, when she comes home she will run around, beg the mother to put on her favorite cartoon and maybe hope for some cookies, too. Then with a full stomach, and a happy heart will fall asleep before the night falls.

The one that has the longest way falls asleep the easiest and has the sweetest dreams.

And so in life, the ones that want to get there first, are also the ones that hold on the most and can feel nothing but the bitter pain of defeat. For the mother tears them away from everything they hold on to. But with so much stubbornness and energy they hold on to all and every time they let go, it is only after much pain. The ones that let go of the things they can get or hope to get, move along quite nicely, occasionally feeling the sadness of being pulled away from the things they want – but always feeling the warmth of the mother’s hands. And the ones that let go even of that what they already have, of their own legs that hold them up, so to say, the mother will pick up and carry. And with their heads resting on the mother’s shoulders and their arms wrapped around her neck, even if the way is a millions years long, they won’t feel anything but the mother’s love.

They say the grass is always greener on the other side.

I had just thrown up and I saw an army of cockroaches storm the bathroom floor. My friend had told me the first thing you will notice is the smell. The smell. It really was the first thing I noticed. As soon as I walked out of the airport and inhaled the “fresh” air. I had wondered for a long time what that smell was. I managed 3 weeks without stomach problems. They told me, only drink bottled water. But in the middle of the jungle in Andra Pradesh, at least 15 miles from the nearest water bottle salesman, I had to drink something. Throwing up was a bonus so to say. Lifting up my dhoti I visualized cockroaches climbing up my calves as I would hunch down. It was disturbing but not disturbing enough so I hunched down, knowing with all the shit that will come out of me, more insects of all kind would storm the floor. They would all be crawling around underneath me, as I sat there entirely exposed. It was the smell of feces that my friend had warned me about. It was in the air in Chennai and it had not died down all the way to Devipuram. It followed us on our three day train ride all the way north to Kasi, where a cow decided to urinate on my slippers. Luckily, she waited for me to take them off. As I watched the pool of urine slowly flow down the brick road, I wondered how a pile of mud was lying around in the middle of the small brick lane. Taking another look at my friend, the cow, I realized that it probably wasn’t mud. Going inside, our host told us that Kasi was not a good city to travel around in when it rains and that it would be raining the next couple of days. We thought he didn’t want us to get wet. Stepping out again we walked barefoot; we followed the trail of urine left by the cow down to the Ganges. Beholding the Ganges we felt bedazzled. This mighty river, with is myriad of legends, had coaxed us to travel more than 5000miles, just so we may step into it. The urine and all other sewage that would enter along with us had temporarily left the picture. Saying all the prayers we could recall from our memory we stepped into the mighty river. A few feet away, near some steps that led right into the river, two housewives were washing their clothes and chatting away in Hindi. One of them chuckled. We didn’t understand Hindi, but in retrospect I am thinking she probably said something like “crazy tourists”. While we were trying to squeeze out as much holiness as one could from the Ganges, it started raining. We stepped out, changed from wet clothes to wet clothes and walked back up. There was a silent wonder – did something actually change? Now, that apparently life times of karma had been washed away? Meanwhile the pile of so-called mud, that was most likely another gift of the cow, had dissolved in the rain and was now all over the narrow road. It was the need to walk through feces that our host had tried to warn us about. But once your in it, your in it. Besides, cow dung is good for you. The hotel we stayed in was apparently the most American friendly hotel in Kasi. The smell of feces had somehow been masked. However, there was a smell of drying paint that gave us all a headache. We had become accustomed to the smell of feces and in fact, by now it seemed natural, almost pleasant. Every moment seemed to be followed by silence. There was always a silent question floating around in our minds, bouncing around between our minds, but never expressed in fear of some undesired finality. Now that I have come here, now that I have made a pilgrimage to the holiest Hindu city has my life changed? And sometimes more concretely – has walking through feces and bathing with urine brought me closer to god? And worse there was a silent fear, that in fact it all had done nothing. The next day we went to the burning ghat. We went by boat, and saw a group of oriental kids jump head over heels into the river from a raised platform. Laughing and shouting, they seemed unmoved by the holiness of this river; other kids were swimming, too, and a little Hindi boy even tried to keep up with the boat as it slowed down. Aptly enough, as soon as he had come close enough, the kid held his hand out. The boat picked up speed and left the kid behind, who, without the slightest change in his face, swam back to his friends. As I watched the old brick walls and forts, made by the British and Moguls, giving of a brown orange radiance to match the rising sun, a sense of peace came over me. The subtle movement of the river boat through the waves along with the soft humming of the motor gently cradled me into a silent nostalgia. Even the voices drifting into my ear from the distance, or the sentence fragments heard from the boatmen, seemed like gentle melodies.

As we approached on the little river boat my friend shrieked and woke me up from my nostalgic day dream. He pointed at something and swore that it was a forearm floating away in the river. It looked like that but I really couldn’t tell for sure.

They say that at the Manikarnagar Ghat bodies have been burned non-stop for more than 5000 years. It has become so busy that the cremators no longer could wait for the entire body to burn. They waited for the head to “pop” and dropped the remains into the river.

We had come to take another bath at the Manikarnagar Ghat. At the holiest of holy places in Kasi. The ageless burning ground. Symbolically, it is supposed to remind us that all things die – family, friends, possessions, even dreams. So never hold on too tight or for too long. So we went into the water along with swamis, sanyasins and other people who just wanted to take a bath. I don’t know about karma but one cannot go to Kasi without walking away with some sort of change within oneself. Death becomes a reality, undeniable and intimate. It loses its singularity, one no longer thinks of death as ones own death, but one sees death as the reality of life. Death is the subtle truth that has ever escaped us as we desperately try to hold on to life. And one sees the poetic beauty of cow dung, the leftover of food, used again as fertilizer for food. This great giver of food, is feared, while the food that is grown from it, is desired. It is this contrast, this forced separation of a whole, that leaves people distraught, disgruntled and bewildered.

There is a story people tell about an ascetic called Telungu Swami. He lived somewhere near the end of the 19th century in Kasi. He reputedly did decades of tapas inside the Ganges. Afterwards he went to Kasi Viswanath – the most auspicious Siva temple in Kasi, and took a shit right on the main moorthy.

Sitting here and watching my vomit being enjoyed by cockroaches I had an epiphany. Maybe feces is the most auspicious way to worship Siva. Maybe it’s not the pure white milk, the scented water, the incense, the fragrant flowers and the exotic fruits that we find in most temples. Maybe its feces, vomit and dead bodies? Aren’t these the base out of which all flowers and milk, and even life, come from? In the end the Ganges did work, maybe we didn’t burn away life times of karma, but for a moment, while still here, sitting as the chief sponsor of my newly found friends’ feast, I have the open mindedness of a new born baby.