Ramblingss...

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When life unwantedly summoned me to Chennai last October, I was left with 3 spare days as I did not find a return ticket to Kolkata sooner. The purpose of my visit over after the 2nd day, I had THREE FULL DAYS in a part of the country where very few know me, the local language I did not speak or understand, it could not have been better!!! It had been sometime that I had had time for myself and when the opportunity presented itself I grabbed it gleefully. After finishing off a planned visit to my friend Shankar on the 2nd evening, I left for Pondicherry by bus the next morning.

I primarily had two options. First, I could spend the rest of the days in Chennai, going around the city and experiencing all that I had read about in the commemorative edition of “The Frontline”. Chennai has completed 375 years and has a very interesting history and I wanted to see for myself all the places mentioned in the magazine. The other option was Pondicherry. With it's French history, association with Rishi Aurobindo and not the least Auroville (I had heard much about it from a relative!!), Pondicherry attracted me as much as Chennai. While I already had a booking at a guest house in Auroville and Shankar had successfully insisted on booking a bus ticket to Pondicherry before my actual journey, I was ambivalent about how it would turn out and wanted to keep my plans flexible. I chose Pondicherry because I did not know when I would get three consecutive days again and I knew Pondicherry requires at least 2 days. Chennai on the other hand can be experienced in instalments and I would always be visiting Chennai for my present work here. In retrospect I feel I made the right decision.

Day 1:

The East Coast Road, connecting Chennai to Cuddalore, is 690 kms long. My journey however would end much earlier at Pondicherry which is at approximately 130 kms from Chennai. The road, also called ECR, was originally conceived to connect the city of Chennai with the fishing villages which dot the Bay of Bengal coast and also some important places like Karaikal, Chidambaram, Pondicherry, Mahabalippuram. It now serves as the lifeline for the villages in the region and with increasing traffic is being converted into a 4 lane highway by the Tamil Nadu government. The route till Pondicherry is scenic. With the azure sea on your left, separated from the road by trees and shrubs, it seemed like a dream drive. The sight of villagers with their towels wrapped around their heads in an effort to save themselves from the hot coastal sun reminded me that the bus is air-conditioned and what looks beautiful to me from my comfortable seat has a very different reality. Interspersed with the sights of the sea are villages, small towns and luxury beach resorts (I guess it is too tempting to leave such a locale unexploited for commercial ventures. I initially mistook the resorts for private properties and wished if I could own one). All along the route the presence of the large lakes, canals, rivers along with the sea on the left makes it really beautiful. One can see far on either side and with our lives becoming more and more confined to small places in our offices and apartments, the wide open spaces makes you feel light and free. The Palar River, which empties into the sea, is almost dry. I had been tracking the route on the GPRS facility on my mobile and these lakes seemed really big in the maps displayed. The other side of the lakes (namely Kaliveli and Odiyur) were not visible from the bus. I wondered if they are natural or man made and google failed to give me an answer. Savouring the sights and sometimes sleeping, I approached Pondicherry. The bus dropped me off at a place about 6 kms from Pondicherry, at the junction of a small road. The hand painted stone signboard said that the small insignificant road would take me to the international city called Auroville. I was slightly disappointed and had doubts about being in the right place. The auto rickshaw driver's confident manners (his mannerisms were the only signs as I hardly understood what he said), were assuring. The presence of non-Indians, who seemed to be at home, cycling or riding a two wheeler to their destinations, further removed my doubts. The road into Auroville, keeps twisting and turning and is not completely tarred. Built on red laterite soil and winding it's way through verdant surroundings, it is hard to imagine for first timers like me that it can lead to such an international project. After 20 mins and some confusion, I reached the Center Guest House where I had a booking.



Auroville…

Auroville is an experiment. It is a township setup by Mirra Alfassa in the Villupuram district of Tamil Nadu. Also revered as “The Mother” by her followers, Mirra was the principle spiritual collaborator of Rishi Aurobindo (1872-1950). Parisan by birth, The Mother came to know about Sri Aurobindo through her husband Paul Antoine Richard in 1914 and about 6 years later in 1920, post a visit to France and Japan she came back to Pondicherry for permanent residence. In 1968 Auroville was setup to actualize the teachings of Sri Aurobindo and was designed by Roger Anger. Today it is home to approx. 2500 Aurovillans who have come from all across the globe. The Mother believed that the city would be a place where people from all over the world can come together to live in peace and unity. She believed in the concept of man being a transitional being. In Mother’s words:

"Auroville is meant to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realize human unity."

In the center of the city lies the Holy Banyan along the Matrimandir. The city spirals outwards from here over an area of about 1200 acres. The center known as Peace Area also has an open air-auditorium and a lake.

I would restrain myself here as it felt like I am doing a documentary on Auroville. This is meant to be personal narrative and in keeping with that aim let’s get back to the guest house. One can visit the website of Auroville for more details.

Similar to the surroundings, the Guest House was covered in green, with the guest rooms spread across the compound, fenced by a hardly visible barbed wire. In the center were the office and the dining hall. Sarvanan, the manager of the guest house was mild mannered, smiling and the expression of his eyes did not match his words. He remarked that since my mobile will not work in Auroville, I might need to use the landline in my room and informed me the call charges. My room with 2 beds, a wooden table and a set of 2 chairs with a coffee table was neatly done. The quiet all around me, broken only by a bird’s call or noise from an occasional human activity, was further complemented by the room. I almost immediately liked it.

Post lunch, I sat down with the information pamphlet and the Auroville map provided to me to create an itinerary for my stay. By this time I had already planned that I would witness events, lectures and like at Auroville and intended to go leave this place with more information about Rishi Aurobindo and The Mother. I cannot claim to know anything more than a basic outline of their lives now but back then I was completely ignorant. My ignorance was intentional. One of the chief impediments to our learning process is our knowledge. It becomes very difficult to unlearn and gather new things. So I wanted to keep it simple and without any prejudice wanted to experience the place (or for that manner any other place). I planned to visit the Matrimandir the next morning and there were a few events during the latter part of the day. But before all that, I had to go to the Visitor’s Centre and get the passes for the next day’s visit to the Matrimandir. I already had met Dr. Mitra at lunch and we planned to get the passes together.

Dr. Mitra, an endocrinologist from Nagpur, was on a holiday and had planned a long stay at Auroville. We immediately struck off and soon were exchanging our opinion on various things on our way to the central office to get our passes. A Marathi by birth, and married to a Bengali (perhaps one of the reasons for her interest in another Bengali), she came across as a friendly person.

At dinner I was introduced to Laurent. He was a resident of New Caledonia, a small island off the coast of Australia. His country is a French dominion and currently in turmoil. The indigenous Kanaks want independence from France and want their own government. This worried Laurent as he was French by birth and combined with his deep seated desire to travel and see the world made him restless. One of his aims was checking the feasibility of becoming an Aurovilian. Along with Pallavi, another visitor and a teacher by profession, we had a long discussion on variety of things, mostly impersonal, but enjoyable.



Day 2:

Early morning next day, after a walk with Dr. Mitra, I visited the Matrimandir. The immensity of the structure and the sprawling gardens and peace of the place made a deeper impact on me than the Inner Chamber. The Inner Chamber has a crystal ball, on which one is to concentrate. With the sunlight, carefully controlled through a system of mirrors in the aperture at the top of the dome, directed on the crystal and then passing through the crystal to the lotus pond below, makes it look beautiful. Add the air-conditioning and the comfortable cushions that you are given to sit, I was more intent on not falling asleep after the hot sun outside. The soporific nature of the place is only enhanced by the dimly lit silence. It is as if you are in a dream, where faces float in and out of sight, disappearing into the white haze beyond. 15 mins of this dream and a flashing light reminds the group that it is time to move out and go down to the lotus pond below the chamber. We are guided to the lotus pond by the genial old lady, (who seemed English) through one of the petals (red structures surrounding the golden sphere of the mandir) which was named Freedom. The petal contained a meditation room (air-conditioned with the same dreamy ambience as the inner chamber). The lotus pond below is a stylized marble structure with a crystal in the center of the marble lotus petals. The light form the Inner Chamber is directed to this crystal below. It was partly cloudy and the light from the chamber was hardly perceptible. I guess so it is with faith on the whole…you have to believe. We were escorted out of the Matrimandir campus, following a visit to the sacred Banyan Tree.

The rest of the day was spent at the visitor’s center, window shopping at the expensive boutiques and sipping coffee with biscuits at the coffee shop. The architecture of the center is impressive with it’s arches and low structures. A lot of open spaces makes it really pleasant. I learnt later, from a group of civil engineers, that the architecture in Auroville is so designed because it requires lower energy consumption and therefore contributes lesser towards global warming. These civil engineers were a part of a group who were being trained on similar technologies at Auroville Earth (an institution which specializes in architecture).

Once the sun goes down, there is not much that you can do as a visitor in Auroville. The streets are not lighted and with just a bicycle with me it was highly possible that I might get lost. Also since mostly all activities are paid (and being on a shoestring budget) I had nothing much to do other than retire to my room. At dinner, I met Dr. Mitra, Laurent and Pallavi once more and had a lively chat. It is interesting to observe how a group automatically seems to develop amongst people who hardly know each other and suddenly it seems there is so much to talk about. Laurent and I had a particularly long chat and it was only when the lights of the dining hall were beginning to switch off that we left.

Day 3:

Around 6AM the next morning, I decided to visit the Matrimandir area once more and was surprised as what had taken about 15 mins in the bus from the visitor’s centre the previous day was just a 10 min walk from my guest house. This time there was no security at the gate and encouraged by a man in a wheelchair and his Labrador, I strolled into the campus. Sitting under the Banyan tree, I was watching a man tend to the garden. He was meticulously spraying pesticides using a long hose, the other end of which was attached to a small spray machine on wheels. There were several like him throughout the campus that morning, each assigned a specific duty. What made it interesting for me was that all of them were foreigners. Seemed like they were all Aurovillans. What was this man with the hose doing in a land so far away from where he was born? What does he aim to achieve by tending to the gardens of the campus of the central showpiece of an experimental town in India? He was in obvious discomfort due to the heat. He looked middle aged and though he had taken precautions, the exposed parts of his body, were sun burnt. It was already getting hot, though not yet 8AM, and I decided to wander my way back to the guest house as I also had to leave for Pondicherry later that day.

I met Laurent at the breakfast and on my suggestion he agreed to take a tour of Pondicherry with me. I had no specific plan and had decided that I would stroll around the old French town and nearby areas. The bus from Visitor’s centre takes one to the Aurobindo Ashram in the city and we decided to take the bus. On reaching the Visitor’s center we learnt that the bus would not be in for another 90 mins and we decided to take an auto-rickshaw (Tuktuk for Laurent) to the Auroville beach on the other side of the East Coast road and then head to Pondicherry from there. The beach was a disappointment. I was a little ashamed, being an Indian and having brought a foreigner with me I wanted to leave the dirty beach and dirtier road to it as soon as possible. We took a local bus from there to Pondicherry. I wondered what Laurent must be thinking. Though not in obvious discomfort, I was sure this was all very new to him but unsure whether he was liking it or not. However I was comforted when he remarked that he was amazed how clean the white shirts and the white dhotis of the local people given that they seemed to travel and live in such conditions.

At Pondicherry we visited the Aurobindo Ashram. This was an old French building where Sri Aurobindo lived. The Mother also had residence in the same house and held conferences with the devotees here. Today one can see the Samadhi of Aurobindo and Mother in the courtyard. Also accessible is the place where Sri Aurobindo used to sit to speak to his audience. The private chambers of the house (Aurobindo’s room on the 1st floor and Mother’s on the 2nd floor) are not accessible without application and subsequent permission. I noticed Laurent donate Rs 100 to the donation box. This man was strange, he was trying to understand himself I guessed. He said he did not feel much for Christianity or in Auroville as it did not touch his heart. He had read about Buddhism and felt it touched him more than Christianity. Now at the Ashram, what moved him to donate money? The Ashram is well looked after, and all the devotees there looked well to do, atleast not suffering from material want. So the need of money was not obvious. Or did he just think that it was customary and wanted to confirm? I myself did not feel any obvious need for supplication or donation. I was hardly aware of the history or significance of the objects in the house to feel the obvious reverence shown by the other visitors. Some visitors I noticed (Indians obviously) thought me to be disrespectful. I guess they could see my obvious lack of reverence in my manners as I sat cross-legged on the verandah where Sri Aurobindo gave audience with my back to the sitting place.

After the Ashram, as we strolled along the old French town, Laurent began to feel at home. He was surprised and delighted to see most of the streets named in French and the restaurants and hotels similarly named. You could see that now he was more sure of himself, whereas I was wondering if I was still in India. I could hardly understand the signboards and the displays and often asked Laurent to translate things for me. The reversal of roles between me and Laurent of guide and tourist was rather interesting. He proudly told me, as we crossed the French Consulate, that all he needs to get into that building and all his issues will be taken care of in case of any trouble. I have never been abroad, but would love it if the Indian Consulate in other countries gave the Indians this kind of assurance to the Indians there. The heat was already getting to us and we were now looking for a place to sit down for lunch. We found a place overlooking the sea and had lunch of Chicken Tikka for Laurent and Fish and Chips for myself. On our way to this restaurant we saw a school of dolphins very close to the shore. I had never seen these beautiful creatures before and was excited. Wish I had a camera where I could have captured their jump over water. This also meant that the sea was pretty deep at a very short distance from the shore. The beach next to the restaurant where small boys were trying to surf in a small area, only confirmed my guess about the depth of the sea. We visited the Sacred Heart Church, next to railway station after we found the Notre Dame De Anges (another church near sea closed). While I was eager to see the churches from inside, I felt Laurent’s slight dis-interest in going into the churches. I felt it did not serve his purpose of visit to India and felt that it would do him no good. He agreed so as to not disappoint me. His dis-interest in churches was very evident at Sacred Heart Church. Built in Gothic style and the red and white church looks beautiful from the inside ( The Sacred Heart Church near Egmore in Chennai was quite a disappointment and I was thought that Pondicherry might also be the same). I found Laurent giving everything a cursory look and quickly he was outside the church looking at things on the sides of the church. The different scenes from the life of Christ depicted throughout the church, were done in both in stained glass as well as frescoes on the wall. As in the case with temples, I get a feeling of missing out on much that is meant to convey. The depiction of the Jesus, saints, angels and their interplay all have a certain story in Christianity and I would love to know all that. While I was wondering all this, I saw Laurent coming in and sitting beside me and enquire about our next destination. Understanding his dis-interest in churches, I offered to visit the Ganesha Temple near the old town. He seemed more interested now and we quickly took a “tuktuk”. Laurent by now had learnt that we need to haggle about the fare with the “tuktuk” drivers and he promptly reduced the price from Rs70 to Rs50 to my amusement. The driver meekly agreed and 15 mins later we were at the Manakula Vinayagar Temple.

The temple dedicated to Lord Ganesha, predates the French occupation of Pondicherry. History states that the temple is originally called Manal Kulathu Vinayagar (meaning: God near the pond of sand). For us unfortunately, the temple was closed and would open at 4PM. We had an hour and 40 mins to kill before we would be let inside. I was able to peep into the dimly lit interiors, through the iron gates, and it seemed all gold to me in the darkness. Part of the temple structure was being renovated. Laurent too had a peep and seemed excited at finally being at a place which was of interest to him. We decided to hang around till 4, and then come back again.

The market across the old canal separating the French Pondicherry from the Indian Puducherry, was a typical Indian shopping place. Shops loudly displaying popular brands of clothing and fashion juggle for space with shops selling Indian handicrafts and carved wood items. With nothing much to do, Laurent and me bought a wooden jewellery box and handmade paper diaries respectively. Though I thought that the prices were way too high, I obliged. That was because I was ashamed to tell Laurent that the shopkeeper has intentionally quoted a higher price seeing that he was a foreigner. Though later he told me that he knew in India he would face all this being white. Another incident which made me feel ashamed was when at the temple, a man came and begged from Laurent. The “beggar” was a properly dressed fellow with no signs of poverty. Just the sight of a white man, made a beggar of him and robbed him of his sense of self-respect. As I intervened man took to his heels when he saw that the white is accompanied by an Indian. The “beggar” apparently spoke fluent French, which surprised Laurent and was able to convince Laurent that he needed money. Such shameful incidents only make us loose our respect in front of others. After spending some time in an airconditioned shop, which we initially entered to escape the heat, Laurent ended up deciding to buy a pair of denim trousers and some 20-25 mins (and 2 shops) later he got the denim he liked. Clicking pictures of another Shiva temple (built in deccan style and closed), we came to a sweetmeat shop for refreshments.

There are things which because of culture or way of life come so naturally to us that we don’t have to give a thought. For others however who might not be accustomed, the same things can be quite puzzling. Making Laurent understand why he should drink the syrup of Ras-Malai and not the syrup of Gulab Jamun is one of them!! He liked Ras Malai more than Gulan Jamun and stated that if the Gulab Jamun can be put into the RasMalai syrup, it would taste even better! It was nearing 4 and after a look-in at a book shop near the temple, we reached the temple shortly after 4pm.

The inside of the temple, which had seemed all gold to me earlier, revealed itself in numerous colors. Golden columns lead to the main chamber where the god resided. The outside walls of the main chamber and walls surrounding the chamber depict all the different aspects of Lord Ganesha as per Hindu Mythology. The other walls are also covered with frescos from scenes of mythology. Behind the main chamber in the two corners are small enclosures which house images of Shiva and other dieties. The temple’s antiquity is evident and evokes a sense of awe. Hundreds of years have passed and what we see today must have been enacted innumerable times over the centuries. I see no reason to believe that the priest 4 hundred years ago would dress any differently that the ones I saw, with their white dhotis and vibhuti smeared foreheads. Also the same column would have been formed then, as now, to offer prayers at the God’s chamber. Old places have a way of enfolding everything within its grasp and lending the same mystical air of antiquity. Perhaps only the iron railings, which seemed modern would not have been there. The design of the iron railings were the only giveaway…else they have blended in perfectly with the place. Another interesting feature of the temple is Lakshmi, the elephant at the gate. She blesses devotees in lieu of small tokens. I gave her Rs10 and promptly she deposited it with her master and blessed me raising her truck over my head and touching it softly. Laurent, after a moments hesitation, did the same and almost lost his cap!!

Meanwhile it was almost 5pm and we were tired. The heat had gotten to us and we hired a cab back to Auroville.

My trip was nearing it’s end. I would leave the next day. My last evening there was almost the same as other evenings. On Dr. Mitra’s suggestion, Laurent started thinking about visiting Kerela before heading back home. His return was already planned and he had 2 weeks with him. I suggested a visit to Kolkata before his departure during Durga Puja and seeing some photographs on the net, he was excited. But I also warned him that Kolkata would also be crowded and hot. (He has since decided on Kerela as he said that the heat and crowd would be too much for him!!).





Coming back to Kolkata:

The next morning, after I settled my dues at the Financial Centre, I met Laurent at the guest house. Bidding our farewell to each other, he joked we would next meet in Paris! I started out at around 11AM and reached Pondicherry bus terminus in an hour. The bus would not leave for another hour and I seated myself comfortably and had some buns for lunch. Thinking about the last three days, I felt like an unwilling school boy returning home after the summer vacations. Back in the bus I could not quite comprehend my feelings. It had been just 5 days, but it seemed more. Another 10 hours and I would be in the familiar settings of Kolkata, but that was hardly a consolation. Familiarity gives comfort, not in my case. I kept on wondering and trying to decipher my feelings all the way back.

At the Kolkata airport, I had a first cue. Due to the taxi strike, there was chaos and for people who did not have their own transport it was like dealing with a bunch of pimps. They charged exorbitant rates for they knew at 11:30 PM, people had little options. My bus journey to Howrah station, from the friend’s place I had put up for the night, the next morning started a series of events which has since helped me comprehend my feelings in the bus back from Pondicherry. I knew I would miss the peace and quiet of Pondicherry in general and Auroville in particular. I knew I would miss being alone and not disturbed. I knew I would miss making friends with complete strangers in an environment which somehow lets people open up. But most of all I knew I would miss being able to see the possibilities of life that we don’t witness in our day to day fight for the mundane. For 4 days I was in an environment which did not have television, no internet (barring the little I have on my phone), very few phone calls. The intrusions of these things in our lives have become so common that we take them for granted. The constant harping of companies brandishing their products and enticing us in different ways have become such an integral part of city life that we hardly realize the cacophony in our thoughts. The congestion in the Howrah bound bus, the garrulous radio jockey, the over-zealous news reader trying to sensationalize every event reported, the newspapers trying to do match the news reader on tv, the hawkers selling varied items in the local trains, the office call during non-office hours are all examples of avoidable and non-avoidable intrusions into our privacy that I had to get acclimatized to. I wonder if I was ever comfortable with these as a mere 5 days should not make me this uneasy. I think I understand the idea behind Auroville and all such places which are meant for quiet contemplation better now. Talking about Auroville, on the 1st evening when I was going around the Visitor’s center with Dr. Mitra and having seen the expensive boutiques and the coffee shops etc there, I was reminded of a book called Karma Cola. It talks about spirituality being sold as commodities and it seemed to be that Auroville was also the same. Plush surroundings and designer interiors coupled with a generally laidback and “cool” attitude of the staff is a sure way of attracting the huge number of foreigners who come here. Westerners, whatever their idea of Indian spirituality, probably come here to experience something which seems so important in their lives but cannot experience in their own countries. Indian visitors, I saw, were mostly people whose curiosity for Auroville was like visiting a zoo or a museum. I don’t exclude myself from this group of Indians. Barring the locals, for whom Auroville perhaps have provided a school for their children or better means of livelihood, all others had a very commercial interest in the project. But now, in hindsight, I think it is just the sheen required to attract people. (Had I stayed for 3 days, if room was not comfortable??)

In the peaceful atmosphere, generally non-intrusive life and the non-commercial approach to things (barring the visitor’s centre of course..) one finds a solace and place to quieten thoughts. The verdant surroundings and greater physical activity from walking/cycling adds to feeling of well-being. While talking about quality of life, the generally accepted economic thought today drives people towards more consumption and it is this aspect of city life that is the bane of modern civilization. Auroville is small experiment to defy the trend. However one wonders, if the current setup would have been possible for the facilities being used here to make life easier for residents have been made available in a specifically commercialized world. Probably we would have seen a different setup had the world all around been different, because then the expectations of people would also have been different. Personally speaking though, the trip brought into sharp focus the need to reduce the noise in my head and re-visualize the possibilities with my own self.

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Photos

To the main road...
Made for a lovely walk....

Another typical road in Auroville...
Not all roads are tarred...but all equally scenic...

Matrimandir - The Golden Sphere
The open air auditorium with the eternal flame can be seen in the foreground.

Lakshmi: The Ganesh Temple Elephant
Lakshmi being fed. The partly visible mahaut makes enormous balls of rice mixed with what seemed like milk and puts it in Lakshmi’s mouth. Lakshmi on her part swallows down everything obediently.

Posing for a pic...
The road behind me leads to the temple. The gates of the temple can be seen in the background.

Comments

[wheelchairindia]

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