India: Pain in the Asana

The rest of the Ashram was cleansing today, I opted out . . . why? Because I simply did not want to, and I am discovering that is a good enough reason. They were performing a form of Kria (cleansing) today called Shankhaprakashalana where you completely flush out your entire digestive tract. After Guru Ji explained the process I decided that it simply was not for me. I am learning to trust my body and practice the art of saying “no”. I know that just being in India and adapting the new routines and food is enough for my already sensitive system and didn’t want to risk putting myself over the edge. The rest of the Ashram dove in headfirst… well more like butt first. 

Essentially this is how the process goes:

You prepare a large batch of clean, lukewarm water with salt (2 teaspoons per liter of water so that the salinity matches that of your blood). You then drink 2 glasses of the warm salty water as quickly as possible and perform the following 5 yoga postures vigorously 8 times each in the following sequence:

1. Tadasana- mountain pose

2. Triyaka tadasana- mountain pose with a twist

3. Kati chakrasana- essentially a ½ way lift while twisting from the right to the left

4. Tiryaka bhujangasana- lying on your tummy with your toes on the floor and twisting to each side… (Beginning to see a pattern here??) and finally

5. Udarakarashanasana (seated twisting).

That is one complete asana cycle … and you do not rest between the 8 cycles.

Next you drink 2 more glasses of warm salty water and again repeat the 5 asanas 8 times each. Then you must repeat the entire process a third time … by now you should be running to the bathroom, well, at least that’s what happened to all of my fellow classmates.

After you go to the bathroom you do it ALL again, and then ONE MORE time. By this point you have probably visited your porcelain throne half a dozen times. I have never heard so many toilets flushing at once in my entire life. One girl stopped mid round and I could hear her shouting “Oh Shit!” as she ran up the stairs passed my room . . . I to this moment have no idea if she made it or not . . . my thoughts are with her and her lululemon pants. You tell that turd whose boss!

After you complete the 3 full series of drink, yoga, drink, bathroom, you go to your room (close proximity to your porcelain chamber of secrets) and sit quietly with yourself. You are not allowed to eat, sleep, read, listen to music, or study because your body has no food to fuel it and even mental activity requires energy . . . you just sit silently and observe your thoughts. Some of the students had mild-hallucinations, which I am now told is part of the process of completely dehydrating yourself, others told me they fanaticized about their favorite foods, and a few groaned and just asked themselves why the hell they paid $1650 for this. After a few hours you are allowed to eat something easily digestible; in this case steamed vegetables and a special kitchari, a delicious blend of overcooked rice and dhal with herbs and ghee (clarified butter) . . . kitchari is one of my favorite things to make back home during the winter. This aspect of the cleanse I took part in . . . the food was delicious.

Because you are not allowed to do anything while you are performing this Kria all classes and lectures were canceled and I unexpectedly had a free 14 hours to myself. I decided to dedicate the day to me—something that is actually quite challenging for my perfectionist self—and do whatever I wanted. Every fiber of my natural state strives for greatness, doing everything correctly and acceding to the top of the class; it was actually harder for me to practice the art of saying “no” to Guru Ji than it would have been going through the agony of the cleanse. I say “agony” based solely on what I witnessed everyone else going through.

I decided that today was going to be one of exploration, but first . . . tea! My friend Stacie also opted out of cleansing because of her ulcer, which would have been inflamed by the process, well, really Guru Ji told her she could not participate. Stacie was less happy about having the day off than I was and was also struggling with not participating with the group. We elected to spend the day in town after our morning cup of tea, but curiosity got the better of us and we decided to peek into the Great Hall to watch the activity of what was happening.

I peered through the small window and what I saw was unlike anything that I’ve witnessed back home: 30 people spread out across the huge yellow room, standing on their yoga mats with their silver metal bowls of water close by. Everyone was at a different stage of the process, some were drinking rapidly, others were twisting strongly, and every minute or so I had to leave the spot where I was standing to get the hell out of the way of someone running to the bathroom with the panicked look in their eyes of “am I going to make it?”

Stacie and I couldn’t help but giggle like little girls as we watched our friends moving ridiculously, but with purpose. After witnessing 20 or so people going in and out of the hall we decided to let them have their process without the gaping eyes of look-e-loos and made our way into town. We grabbed our scarfs, and a little pocket money . . . shopping is always best in the morning before the crowds arrive … and we hit the pavement for the journey into Lakshman Jula. By now I have walked this path so many times I have developed my own shortcuts and can get to the main road in less than 5 minutes at a comfortable pace. Along the way we cut through alleyways, behind people’s houses, beside the infamous pizza restaurant, and past my good friend the big Brown Cow.

Once we reached the city center my stomach reminded me that it had not had anything to eat yet. I looked around and set my sights on a German bakery (go figure) right next to the bridge. We walked up the steps and ordered our food . . . I opted for the fresh out of the oven butter croissants with a cup of fresh mint tea. We took a look around and find the perfect spot to sit and enjoy our meal . . . the far table with an open window overlooking the Ganges River. It was rushing fast and strong today and it was utterly and indescribably beautiful. There was nothing like this at home, I could literally hang my feet out of the window if I wanted to and let them dangle over the 50-foot drop. It was so peaceful having nowhere particular to go and no pressure to apply any social masks. I was sitting comfortably in my skin enjoying the company of my new friend.

My croissant and tea arrived quickly and as soon as their aroma hit my nostrils my mouth began to water, at the same time my head is starting to weigh the pros and cons of what I was about to do. This was my first full meal outside of the Ashram and the fear of Delhi Belly was still spinning through my head in spite of my week of experience with Indian food. I started to rationalize things: the tea is coming from boiled water, and the food has just been taken out of an extremely hot oven. “You’re going to be fine, Dani” I comforted myself as I took out my back up plan from my purse. My cousin Alyssa has been in India before and she avoided getting sick, aside from catching a cold, using the technique of taking a Pepto-Bismol tablet with every meal; a trick she lovingly passed onto me before I left the States. You see the tablet kills bad bacteria and makes it easier on your stomach to digest. I popped the pink pill into my mouth, chewed, and instantly felt solaced. I took a sip of the tea; the bright green mint leaves had started to change the color of the once clear water into a light green haze. It was delicious and strong! I took a bite of my buttery croissant and I was in heaven. I hadn’t had any food like this in 8 days and the flakey pastry was a comforting taste of home. Stacie and I enjoyed a long breakfast and conversation while overlooking the pale blue waters of the holy river, laughing, chatting and sometimes sitting in a peaceful silence as we took mental pictures of the beauty of the sunlight overflowing into the valley.  Even if I were to have taken a picture at the breakfast table it wouldn’t do justice to what I saw. Nature demands presence. You can see the most miraculous sunset but taking a photo leaves you looking at it wondering if there is something wrong with your camera! So instead of even trying I sat with my iPhone tucked away in my bag without even the slightest urge to grab it. When we finished we walked up to the clerk to pay our bill 120 rupees $1.85. God I love this country!

We made our way out of the bakery and passed by a bookshop. I had to go in! It was quite literally floor to ceiling with books on yoga, meditation, and Ayurveda. I felt like I was at Daigon Alley Bookshop (Harry Potter fans will understand the reference). It was magical sitting on the floor reading the books on Shiva, Hanuman, BKS Iyengar and Ayurvedic Cooking. I could have stayed there all day, but alas the shopping Gods called and the rupees were burning a hole in our pockets. We left the haven of books, promising to return again to make a hefty purchase later, and shopped and explored the rest of the city for a good few hours before making the trek back to AYM.

When we returned it felt like the entire school was deserted. It was eerily quiet and the usual commotion of students in the halls was non-existent. Everyone was tucked away in their rooms, or on the roof bundled up in layers of clothing and blankets trying to get warm, their bodies working through the cleanse from the inside out. They looked terrible: pale, tired, and had deep circles under their eyes. I asked many of them how they were doing and got the same response from most: tired, cold, and uncomfortable. Some were worse than others and had been trapped in their bathrooms all day vomiting or dealing with issues of the other end, but most were dealing with the simple fact that they were hungry! I did my best to not rub in their faces what an amazing day I had, and instead I offered them hope that tomorrow would be better and that food was coming soon. No one seemed to care; they were all so lethargic that even carrying on simple conversations proved to be problematic, so I left them to rest and returned to room 309.

I set down my purchases of the day, Christmas gifts for my family, and settled down onto my bed. I had an hour before my scheduled massage and took advantage of the time by reading in the sunshine on my patio. It was absolutely delightful. Mid sentence I looked out at the jungle, and gazed around the beautiful Valley listening to the monkeys and birds. I was flooded with a serene joy. I was calm today, no tears, no deep emotional upheavals, just pure bliss. I was so happy that I had made the best decision for me even though it was initially difficult. I had given myself the greatest gift of all: time. Time to enjoy town, time to shop, time to hand-wash my laundry, and time to sit and do absolutely nothing.

I looked down at my right arm “Il Dolce Far Niente” “the sweetness of doing nothing” is tattooed on my inner bicep and this type of day is exactly what it symbolizes: the wonderful feeling of enjoying each moment. There was no need to fill every second of the day, I could simply sit on my patio and look off into the distance and enjoy my own company. What a marvelous feeling.

Danielle CarrollComment