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KUMBH MELA

Hare Krishna Om Shiva Om

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De no haber ido a Rishikesh y Haridwar antes de salir del pais, dejar India no hubiese sido tan violento para el corazon.
El famoso Kumbh Mela estaba en plena accion, y en peregrinaje baje desde Rishikesh hasta Haridwar unas cuantas veces, para ver y compartir los famosos banhos en la madre Ganga (Ganges).
En el proceso, me adentre a los campamentos de los Babas y los Naga babas (los Sadhus, los hombres sagrados d India, los “fakires”, los hombres que viven desnudos en los bordes de la sociedad y en constante comunion con lo divino y las fuerzas universales, los padres del yoga tantriko). Me tope con uno que tenia las rastas mas largas que su propio cuerpo, y no llevaba nada encima mas que el chillum, una zanahoria y un monton de cenizas de las piras funerarias esparcidas por el cuerpo desnudo. Un excelente comunicador sin palabras.
Se apresuro a invitarme al campamento, donde me reuni con otro chico, Austriaco esta vez, auqnue tambien con rastas hasta el culo y una manha bastante interesante preparando chilums. Los dos, mano a mano se pusieron a fumar la hierbe sagrada del senhor Shiva, marihuana, y como parecia ser que yo era la unica derecha del circulo, el Baba se decidio a ensenharme sabiduria basada en el padre cielo, la madre tierra y las disciplinas secretas del yoga.
Eseguida nos guio hacia otro refugio proximo, donde unos 10 Naga Babas mas hacian cafe en un puchero oxidado y balanceaban un trozo de canvas en cuatro palos que llamaban “casa”. Mas chillums. Y una vez mas, la unica que no fumaba. Con lo cual me toco conversar con los Babas que acertaban a aventurar palabras en hindu y sanskrito. Nos entendimos bien. Peronos entendimos mejor cuando uno de ellos, levantandose despues de haberse fumado media rama, se posiciono en una asana (postura de yoga) inversa de tal manera que estaba perfectamente doblado y podria haberse lamido el recto de haber querido. Desdoblandose, me sonrio y a carcajada limpia me reto a probarlo.
A dia de hoy le doy gracias al yoga que practico... pues nos sirvio de punto de union y comprension no verbal. Me manche de cenizas, pero me doble como nunca en clase o en el Ashram me habia doblado antes.
Y bueno... yoga en India, no?
De alli los Babas nos llevaron a la Puja particular suya del atardecer (la ceremonia en el Ganges, la madre Ganga). Y de alli, el Austriaco de rastas y yo, nos aventuramos a volver a Rishikesh.
En Rishikesh conoci a Ladu Baba, otro Baba que me recogiocomo su estudiante y discipula durante un tiempo, y los dias bailaban entre pujas, yoga, meditacion, banhos ritualisticos en la madre Ganga y la Rainbow Family- Peace Love and Community; Paz Amor y Comunidad. Tiempo con los hermanos y hermanas de la familia universal del arcoiris y con el Chaman Rastafar Austriaco que conoci con los Babas, Paul. Con este ultimo exploramos y descubrimos cascadas gigantes pasada la media noche y alternabamos banhos en la cascada con mantras y ceremonias apies de una hoguera pequenha y estudiabamos las constelaciones y las estrellas.
HARI OM HARI OM HARI OM
HARE KRISHNA
HARE KRISHNA
KRISHNA KRISHNA
HARE HARE
HARE RAMA
HARE RAMA
RAMA RAMA
HARE HARE
OM SHIVA OM
NAMASKAR!
If I hadn’t gone to Rishikesh and Haridwar nefore leaving the country, exiting india would never had been so heart breaking.
The Kumbh Mela was on full power, and I walked down to Haridwar in pilgrimage a fewtimes for the famous bathings and more.
I ended up venturing into the camps of the Babas, where I bumped into a Naga baba (naked dark baba of the tantric tradition) holding a crrot and little more. An excellent communicator without words. He invited me over to his tent, wher I met another dreadlocked man, only he was Austrian and seemed to be highly skilled at preparing the chillums. As they both smoked away, I was the only one straight in the circle, so Baba decided to teach me basics on the wisdom of father sky, mother earth and the secret yogic disciplines by drawing on the ground.
Soon enough he walked us bothto a close by tent or piece of canvas balanced on four sticks where abround another 10 babas and naga babas brewed coffe on a rusty pot and smoked more of the sacred weed of Lord Shiva. Once again, being the only one straight in the circle, i got to chat in broken sanskrit and hindu with some of the babas. We did well. Though we did way better when one of them proceeded to stand up and, wrapping up his mat of dreads folded and bent himself in such manner that he could have liked his rectum if he had wanted to.
Challenging me with a big smile, he ceaded his spot on the ground and indicated with his hand for me to do as he had done.
TO this day, I thank the yoga I practice, for it bridged us closer together and made us laugh so much. I got dirty and covered on ashes, but... I never bent like that before, not in class nor at the Ashram... like I did on that racketty tent... and then I saw the entrance to my anus right between my eyes.
Well... yoga in India, right?
The day concluded with the baba puja in mother Ganga, and the Paul and I, the Austrian man who vas extremelly stonned by this stage, had to walk back to Rishikesh through the night.
But up the Ganga, in Rishikesh, yoga, meditation, ritualistica bathing in the Ganga, fire puja and the Rainbow Family took over. I met Ladu Baba, who took me as his disciple for a while. And then Peace Love and community was on during the time spent with the brothers and sisters of the wonderful Rainbow Family. My heart open.
I even had time to go waterfall haunting past midnight with Mr Paul, the Austrian rastafar Shaman,and to keep a fire and spot he constellations and study the starts in the dark while we bathed in the waterfalls.
HARI OM HARI OM HARI OM
HARE KRISHNA
HARE KRISHNA
KRISHNA KRISHNA
HARE HARE
HARE RAMA
HARE RAMA
RAMA RAMA
HARE HARE
OM SHIVA OM
NAMASKAR!

Posted by Irati 14:49

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