I am still travelling. But this is a different journey altogether. I am on a path that, at times, feels more perilous and treacherous to me than dodging bombs in Pakistan. It is called the Inner Journey. During my five day sadhana practice at Anand Prakash Ashram in Rishikesh, I had a very strong intuition that I ought to go to Wales to do some work with a yogi and energy healer I had met under serendipitous circumstances in Devon about three years earlier. This seemed bizarre to me: here I was, in India, planning to go on to Nepal or [View Full Entry]

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There is a familiar saying that goes ‘Life is what happens when you have other plans’. I’ve found this to be particular true in India, a country in which the main lesson seems to be surrender. Things have a life and pace of their own here. You can make all the plans in the world, but if Mother India isn’t ready to let you go, something will happen to keep you just a little bit longer. And sometimes, a lifetime of experiences can occur within a week or two. This is exactly what has been going on for me recently. I [View Full Entry]

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After six days of sadhana in the ashram, I take a walk to Ganga with my Canadian friend MJ on Beltane Eve. It’s a warm night, and glowworms lead our way as dusk sets in. When we get to my favourite Ganga beach, I notice a fire in the bushes on the hill behind us. It basks everything in a golden glow, and it feels as though this is our own personal Beltane fire. This is especially beautiful because it’s MJ’s first proper visit to Ma Ganga, and I watch her offer some incense, water, fruit and a prayer in the [View Full Entry]

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It is Day One of my five day silent retreat and I am starting to lose my voice. We are sitting around the ceremonial fire for the second time today, dripping with sweat in the afternoon heat, count our japa malas (a necklace of 108 beads which is used to count mantras: one bead for each mantra), feed the fire with copious amounts of ghee and herbs, and chant the Sanskrit Miritunjay mantra over and over again - 432 times (four japa malas) per ceremony, which takes roughly two hours. What I failed to realize when I signed up for this [View Full Entry]

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I swear that Rishikesh's alter ego is an octopus. It must be. Every time I try to leave, it wraps its sticky long tentacles around my restless soul and pulls me back into its comforting, slightly claustrophobic embrace. It is now the end of April, temperatures have soared up to 42 degrees Celsius (and my long-suffering friends know that I already reach for a fan and cry for ice packs when it’s 17 degrees back in the UK), with a meager 23 degrees at night time. The mosquitoes feast on my blood every night, with the midges, ants and flies adding [View Full Entry]

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A lot has been moving and shifting for me in the month I have been staying at Anand Prakash Ashram (www.anandprakashashram.com). Yes, I have been strengthening my physical yoga practice, but what is more important, I have only now begun to understand what Yoga really means. Through practising Akhanda Yoga, a holistic, integral form of yoga with an emphasis on the balanced sequencing of asana (postures), pranayama (breath control/retention), relaxation, mantra and meditation, I have come to realize that the postures are only a small part of what constitutes the Yogic lifestyle. What's been real [View Full Entry]

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It's Holi today. Holi is one of North India's most exuberant and playful festivals; Hindus celebrate the beginning of spring by throwing gulal (coloured powder) and coloured water at anyone within range. This sounds fun, I think, and despite the doubtful looks of my fellow ashramites, I decide to throw on some old clothes and brave the mayhem. 'Put some oil on your hair and body before you go out', advises a concerned Yogi Vishvketu in this morning's yoga class, during which he falls in with the festival's joyful spirit by having us perform a whole lot of loud 'mieuws' during [View Full Entry]

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After several weeks of rest, shanti, and a certain amount of hesitation, I have finally moved to an ashram. 'Have fun in your nice prison', says Hee, as she helps me move my belongings to my new abode. My room is sparse but comfortable, with two single beds, a concrete shelving unit, a bedside table, and two plastic chairs. I have a private bathroom, too, and a sunny balcony with a(somewhat restricted) view to the mountains. The ashram is a bright, new building with a big roof terrace, two yoga halls, a garden with a ritual space, a lovely dining room, [View Full Entry]

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For the first time since I have left Amritsar, I feel like I am actually in India. I have taken an overnight trip to Haridwar with Heike, an acquaintance who is on her way to South India. Haridwar is located at the point where the Ganges emerges from the Himalaya and is Uttarakhand's holiest Hindu city. The city is remarkably different from Lakshman Jhula/Rishikesh, which is about an hour's drive away. True, Haridwar is chaos and noise and features the usual hustle and bustle of most Indian cities, there is hassle from rickshaw drivers and salesmen and beggars and just about [View Full Entry]

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On the evening of my visit to the Kali shrine, I have an experience that is strangely in line with the day's energy. As I walk home from Nirakara’s house at dusk, I notice a large white car with a flatscreen TV screen in place of the rear mirror that creeps alongside me for a while. At first I don’t think anything of it, as it looks as though the driver is looking for something or someone. I walk on, passing a small Shiva Temple in which a bunch of dreadlocked sadhus sit on the floor in a circle and greet [View Full Entry]

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