Saturday, September 14, 2019

Home to Forest: A Visit to Vanvadi


Vanvadi is a 65 acre private forest, around 90 km from Mumbai.

Vanvadi, a 65 acre private forest near Mumbai, is a centre of eco learning and traditional wisdom

The stream was in spate. So was my mind. The brick and wood house across the waters seemed empty. My calls may well have drowned in the gushing stream. To cross or not to cross? “There must be another, safer way,” my mind said fearing I will be swept away by the monsoon torrent. The autorickshaw driver had dropped me on the road around 300 metres away. From there, a dirt track went through the woods to Vanvadi, a 65 acre private forest on foothills of Sahaydri mountain range, 90 km from Mumbai. Vadi means home in Marathi and hence Vanvadi is literally ‘home to forest’.

So here I was, standing inside the gates but away from safety of a roof and people. There was no sound of human activity. Only rustling of trees, a few bird calls, sound of light rain and this stream raising a racket. The air was heavy with smell of damp earth and grass. Should I leave the backpack this side to gain more mobility? Wait here in rain until someone, something shows up? Would there be wild animals around?

A few iron poles erected on the submerged stone wall-cum-bridge signalled hope. I jumped in, realising in a few steps that the fear was irrational. The force of water was not as strong  The cloudiness of mind had, however, made me forget to remove shoes and roll up the denims. The shoes took five days to dry, almost time to go back to Mumbai. But first day first.

There was no one in the house. Or so I presumed. I called out again from the covered courtyard. Went through the small inner room and out to the open kitchen at back. Two kittens coiled around a still-warm hearth were startled. I asked them about their humans. No answers. Came back to the front courtyard. The stream looked calmer from this side. The high ground and plinth keeps the house away from risk of flooding. Trees of Mahua, Saghwan and Ain (Terminalia Eliptica) besides many creepers gave a glimpse of what the forest holds.


I sat down on the charpoy, admiring the unique architecture of this jungle house. Wooden pillars, brick walls plastered with mud and an attic which has floor of hanging beds. The kittens came chasing each other and climbed up the wooden ladder. An A-frame roof with its intricate pattern of bamboo and wooden beams canopies the house.

A friend had volunteered here while the house was being built, transformed from a humble hut to an accommodating place. The low front wall doubles up as sitting space. The house has no electricity or modern conveniences. There is a soak pit toilet, kitchen waste is composted and drinking water collected from a well. One can take a bath at the well, jump into the rock pool or carry a bucket into the small bathroom. Some of the roof water is led to a small tank near kitchen sink for washing.

Waking up from a short nap, I saw Daulat parking his bicycle across the stream. He manages Vanvadi and his family lives in the nearby Vaadi village. I was supposed to coordinate with him before arriving but the mobile networks here are patchy. We stoked the hearth and cooked khichdi. Grateful.

I came here with reference of Bharat Mansata, a well known figure in field of environment and natural farming. He is one of the 24 co-founders of Vanvadi who bought this land in 1994 for ecological conservation and regeneration. “We were initially a couple of friends hoping to do natural farming of fruits and vegetables on a small piece of land. During our search, we came across this place which was already showing promise of regeneration within just a year or two of cutting.” he told me when we met after a few days. “We gathered more like-minded people to jointly buy the land and let it grow into a forest.”

The previous owners were giving out contracts every four to five years for chopping down the trees for sale. As a result, the deciduous ‘coppicible’ species that tolerate such clear-felling began to predominate, while most of the evergreen species died out, or greatly dwindled in numbers. ‘Coppicing’ involves cutting down of trunks for timber or firewood. New shoots regrow from the stumps of the coppicible species, and take shape of a fully grown tree  after a few decades.

“The region has had a long history of coppicing trees since colonial times, when the British first clear-felled ancient forests for timber. Earlier, the trees were allowed to regrow for 25 years, which came down to 10 years, but by the time, we bought the land, the period had been reduced to just four years,” said Mansata. “We wanted to conserve biodiversity and tree cover which were rapidly becoming casualties of reckless development.”

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After taking over, the group protected the natural regrowth from clear-felling, and planted new saplings every monsoon. They also did soil and water conservation earthworks of rock bunds and check dams that helped recharge groundwater benefiting neighbouring downstream villages as well. Today, Vanvadi boasts of around 50,000 trees, including 52 edible plant species, over 30 medicinal species, and around 20 timber species. A small patch of land is used for farming rice and millets.

Over a few days, Daulat gave me a low down about the forest, its tree species and water sources besides social, economic and environmental profile of surrounding area. I head out with an umbrella. Vanvadi’s pet dog followed and later led when I lost my way. We disturbed hundreds of spider webs in our wake, found frogs floating motionless in an open well, curtains of vines obliterating trees and various kinds of grasses and shrubs lining the forest bed. There are several plant species in Vanvadi which can be used for making herbal pesticides, oils, gums, natural soaps and natural dyes.

Occasional weekend workshops, nature walks and an annual vanutsav or forest festival are organised at Vanvadi. Vanutsav involves local tribal villagers sharing their traditional knowledge about forest and their way of life with city residents who join in from Mumbai and other places. Participants forage, cook and eat forest food besides other delicacies.

Arjun Kamdar, a wildlife conservationist who has conducted reptile awareness and appreciation workshops at Vanvadi, feels the area is a heaven in the sea of agricultural fields. “The amount of species diversity here is comparable and at times higher than other forests of Western Ghats. This is because there are not many big predators in Vanvadi since they usually require larger area,” he said. “There is a healthy network of streams which host several unique frogs and toad species”

Common Wolf Snake, Checkered Keelback and Buff Striped Keelback are some of the snake species of the area. “People usually have this notion that snakes are all out to kill them. Seeing them in their natural habitat helps diffuse this fear,” Kamdar said. On the other hand, local tribal participants get to know about how to reduce their interactions with snakes, importance of going to hospitals instead of local healers in case of snake bites and differences between poisonous and non-poisonous snakes.

Vanvadi has had its fair share of struggles and fights too, mainly dealing with several real estate projects, including vacation homes and resorts, that have sprung up in the area, shooting up the land prices. Over the last 12-15 years, the region has undergone a tremendous change, especially with a new road passing nearby. Deforestation and concretisation has led to massive soil erosion. Vanvadi also faced attempts to fraudulently sell its land, that needed legal interventions.

“The land is big and hence requires constant monitoring. We are hoping to have new members from younger generation who can bring in fresh energy to the place,” Mansata said. “Maybe few people can stay here with small huts and kitchen gardens. The area has the potential to evolve into a forest eco-village and a valuable learning centre on nature, ecology and traditional  wisdom."

Vanvadi has a long unguarded boundary of four kilometre and cattle often stray into the forest while local villagers come for firewood and forest food. “Animals damage the saplings we plant, which is why we are now doing this only in a smaller protected area,” said Mansata.

He has a suggestion for anyone willing to follow this path: “Let nature do her work, and see where you can help. Though there is a greater awareness among people about environment protection, only incremental change is happening. It has not reached the tipping point to turn the tide. The rampaging monetised economy is about fleeting shadow value, while the real wealth of nature is indispensable for survival and well-being. Ecological regeneration is thus a vital, urgent task, almost everywhere!”

This write up was first published in The Tribune

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Pollution, concrete chokes Lucknow’s Gomti




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"All waste stagnates here. People come to pray and take a dip, what they see is scum all around,” said Jaal Singh while pushing his boat upstream in hope of a fish catch. “We have seen turtles and gharial in this river. Nowhere to be seen now.” From a river that supported species and traditional occupations , like that of cloth washers, Gomti in Lucknow is today highly polluted. What have made matters worse is concrete taking over the water and insulating the city from its cure. The riverfront development has not only obstructed the exchange of water between river and land but also reduced Gomti’s capacity to flush out the city’s waste. Link in bio (https://india.mongabay.com/2019/02/04/after-pollution-riverfront-development-chokes-lucknows-gomti/) @mongabayindia #riverpollution #gomti #lucknow #boatman #uttarpradesh @lucknow.me @lucknowbytes #photography #picoftheday #instariver #photooftheday #riverfront #igers #everydayindia @uttarpradeshtourism
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Saturday, December 15, 2018

In Pics: From Tripura to Gulf via Chennai


Mobile phones are the only means to entertainment and stay in touch with family back home and relatives in Gulf copyWhy young men are escaping Tripura for slums of Chennai ?

Slums of  Chennai are becoming the testing ground for young men from Tripura who want to go to Gulf countries in search of better, richer lives. Each one of these young men has a plan — they know what they will be doing in five,10, 20 years. Life is a game of hopscotch; the moves have been charted for them by those who have gone before.

Spend four-five years working in a big Indian city, save money to move to one of the Gulf countries, work there on a higher salary and return home with bigger savings. Life can wait. “My mother is looking for a girl, but I want to earn enough money first,” Rakib Ali says. “Then I can start a family.”
For many of them it is the first time, they come across the sea. It scares them but also soothes them.

Sea is a great soother of many migrant workers who get home sick.

They stay in dark, stuffy rooms of the Sreenivasapuram slum where the Adyar river meets the Bay of Bengal. Assamese security men, Rajasthani carpenters and Odia cooks live here alongside Tamil fishers, and auto mechanics. Lovers scrawl their names on the ruins of houses that the sea clawed down in 2017, during a severe storm.

Love graffiti on wall of a house that fell down during last year's storm in Sreenivaspuram slum in Chennai

Lorries of bubble-top cans, the only source of drinking water, jostle for road space with cars outside local service stations. Tsunami rescue drills are regularly conducted to keep the floating population and rescuers abreast of the things to do in case disaster strikes.

A Tsunami rescue teams conducing a drill through Sreenivaspuram slum.
Tripura has the highest unemployment rate in India at 19.7 per cent, as compared to the national average of 4.9 per cent, said the Ministry of Labour’s Annual Employment-Unemployment Survey, 2015-16 report.

Tripura had the second highest number of emigrant households, after Sikkim, among north-eastern states, according to the NSS 64th Round Migration in India 2007-08 survey. This can be attributed to Tripura’s geographical and demographic attributes, which differ from its neighbouring states.

Tripura is surrounded by Bangladesh on three sides and has a majority Bangla population due to migration since ancient times. Bangladesh has high rate of emigration to Gulf countries and thanks to easy movement of people and news, this trend easily caught up with Bengali men in Tripura. In the absence of proper information, they end up paying hefty amounts to unscrupulous recruitment agents.

Bhola (19) arrived in Chennai 15 days back and is pinning hopes on future migration to Saudi Arabia

The trend of emigration is escalating even among the state’s tribal population. Bhola (19) belongs to the Tripura or Tripuri tribe. His family has a small rubber plantation which does not provide sufficient income. 

The 12-by-12 feet room he shares with five other boys in Sreenivaspuram is criss-crossed with two nylon ropes bearing piles of clothes, both washed and unwashed. Several bags lie stacked along one wall. Three mats are laid out on the floor. The ceiling fan whirrs futilely overhead, merely distributing the hot air around the room. The grey wall of the kitchen shelf is turning black from the soot from the kerosene stove.

Preparing dinner in the one room-cum-kitchen

Most boys sit out in lungis, out on the terrace to enjoy the evening sea breeze. A couple of them bathe in the saline groundwater, readying for the night shift. Their vacated sleeping slots will soon be taken up by the ones coming back from their day shifts.

“Water is not good here but there is no other option. Canned water is costly and only used for drinking,” Bhola says. “In Tripura, rivers are clean and there are wells and ponds within our compounds.”


These young men, and the dozens more like them who pour into Chennai by the day, see these hardships as a necessary step to their future. In contrast, many unskilled or semi-skilled emigrants from India mortgage family properties or take loans, often from recruitment agents, at high interest rates to meet the migration cost.

“Such a practice increases the vulnerabilities of migrant workers manifold,” said a 2015 report by International Labour Organization on migration from India to the Gulf countries. “Several cases are reported in which workers are forced to work in deplorable conditions because of the huge debt burden incurred during the pre-departure phase.”

A window to the dwelling place.

Things can still go horribly wrong, however. Gopal Das, a 36-year-old driver, had to be rescued from Saudi Arabia in 2017 by the Ministry of External Affairs after he sent an SOS video over Twitter. Das was hired as a family driver, but was forced to work on farms without salary or food.

“Whenever I asked for money, they threatened to kill me,” he says, on phone from his native Barapathari village in South Tripura district. “I am glad to be out of there, but in Tripura, I am not getting regular work. Sometimes I think about going back. Maybe I will get lucky this time.” 

The writer wishes to thank the National Geographic Society and the Out of Eden Walk, whose 2018 Journalism Workshop supported the creation of this project.

Friday, January 26, 2018

Those who tend to the forest

Ram Prasad, a member of a study group that recorded the bio wealth of the forest, digging out a tuber in the forest of Pondi village, Madhya Pradesh. “We were able to convince people that saving the forest is in our interest as it will stop providing us food, wood and medicines, if we don’t change our practices,” said Ram Prasad.

Ram Prasad pushes his spade into the soil digging around two hands deep. After a few minutes, he fishes out a clean, white tuber sans the hair usually attached to underground food. Colloquially called Dongchi Kanda, the greasy, minutely sweet root was worth the effort. “It is very good for scorpion bite as well. Tie it at the place of bite and the poison won’t spread in the body. The person can easily be taken to the healer,” Ram Prasad informs. After a short uphill climb, he digs out another tuber. This one did not require much effort and had a faint hint of turnip.

The forest around Pondi village in Baiga Chak region of Madhya Pradesh is full of such vines and tubers as well as trees of sal, mahua (Madhuca Indica) and tendu (Diospyros Melanoxylon). Mehul (Bauhinia Vahlii), the largest creeper of India, is stretched over the forest. Its large leaves, divided into two symmetrical lobes, are used to serve food or stitched to carve bowls, while its stems are entwined and strained into ropes.

Till some years ago, these vines and tubers were in scarcity and all one could see was a stretch of sal trees. Thanks to villagers like Ram Prasad, who are a part of the local forest study group, the diversity has evidently come back.

Baiga Chak, an officially recognised traditional habitat of Baiga tribe, has always been known for its myriad species and their inclusion in local diet, lifestyle and healthcare. With changing times, however, the forest was losing its richness. This prompted the non-profit National Institute of Women, Child, and Youth Development (NIWCYD) to establish forest study groups in various villages of the area in 2005.

The approach was unique as instead of getting experts to research on the changing ecosystem, villagers were trained to not only analyse the situation, but also suggest conservation plans through available local knowledge. In short, they were to become citizen scientists.

However, before all that, it was essential to generate a spirit of ownership among locals. “Villagers had lost connection with the jungle as they believed it belongs to the forest department, which never consults them on its management. This meant they didn’t feel the responsibility to preserve it as well. As we talked to them about how they use the forest in more ways than one, they realised the need for conservation and also asserting their right in governance,” says Balwant Rahangdale of NIWCYD.

In the process


Mehul, the largest creeper of India, had become scarce. It is now abundantly available thanks to efforts of villagers who studied the bio wealth of their area and implemented conservation practices.

The forest study group members interviewed village elders and documented details of 71 bird species, 56 varieties of trees, 23 types of wild vegetables, 18 types of tubers and 34 varieties of medicinal herbs along with their uses. A herbarium was also prepared for floral species. They found that bamboo, amla (Gooseberry), char (Buchanania cochinchinensis), tendu, mehul, harra (Terminelia Chebula) and many more useful species were declining.

“The study also informed us that over exploitation and faulty extraction was leading to this drop in forest quality,” says 29-year-old Kisan Lal Pasgaiyan, one of the members of the forest study group. Many villagers would cut down the whole tree instead of just taking the fruits or flowers. They would also light fire to get rid of bushes which make certain areas inaccessible. “In addition, forest department preferred sal over other species for its timber. Coupe felling or routine axing of trees by the department to encourage regrowth would also kill vines like mehul and falling trees crushed seedlings,” Pasgaiyan adds. 

The study groups presented their findings in gram sabha (village council) meetings and sought suggestions from everyone. “We were able to convince people that saving the forest is in our interest. If we don’t do that it will stop providing us food, wood and medicines,” Ram Prasad adds.

Solutions to problems 


What followed was a comprehensive plan to stop reckless cutting of trees and burning of forest floor. Patrols were set up and fines imposed on violators. “It still took us a couple of years to make people understand and follow sustainable practices,” Pasgaiyan says.

The forest department also had to face a lot of resistance in its coupe-felling exercises. Thankfully, nature responded to such actions and several floral varieties have strengthened their hold. The basket of forest produce has also expanded. “People earn extra income by selling produce like mushrooms, mehul and tendu leaves, which have spread over a larger area, all thanks to the study and subsequent actions taken by the villagers,” says Balwant Rahangdale of NIWCYD.

Theory put into practice


The ownership villagers now feel for forest is evident from the fire-control measures they take. “Earlier people would not even put down the fire close to the village. Now many rush to extinguish the flames anywhere in the jungle,” Pasgaiyan points out.

The real evidence of improved forest health comes from the status of water bodies. The two main streams, which used to dry up by April first week, now run till end of May. Many farmers have now started sowing Rabi (winter) crop of wheat and ramtilla (an oilseed), not possible earlier.

The concept of citizen science thrown up by the Baigas gains greater importance when looked in the backdrop of persistent rural to urban migration and loss of traditional knowledge with passing away of older generations. Such exercises in documentation and analysis can be a good means to not only preserve the knowledge but also benefit ecosystem-dependent occupations, including farming, fishing, and trade in minor forest produce. Considering that India is still a biomass-based country, the impact can be massive.

— This article had been done with support from the Trans Disciplinary University (TDU)-Nature India Media Fellowship. 

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Unrest in Peace: Bhopal Remembers


This collaboration transformed four rooms and one hall way of a rented duplex flat into a lived experience.

The first community-led museum of the country gives voice to survivors of the deadly gas leak and offers lessons in preservation​


AT ‘REMEMBER Bhopal’, the first community-led museum of India, voices of survivors lead you through the biggest industrial disaster of the world that killed over 5,000 people, maimed hundreds of thousands and continues to contaminate land and water even after 33 years.

The leakage of methyl isocyanate gas on December 3, 1984, from the chemical plant of Union Carbide India Limited in Bhopal made it to the history textbooks but it’s here that one confronts the enormity of this man-made tragedy. 
The personal stories can be heard from the receivers put next to the objects and images, making it a good experiment in preserving oral histories led by people. 

Listening to a personal account in the 'Black Room' can transport you to the night of tragedy.

Listening to a personal account in the 'Black Room' can transport you to the night of tragedy.


 An aluminium pot from Nafeesa Bi's kitchen reflecting the impact of polluted water
An aluminium pot from Nafeesa Bi's kitchen reflecting the impact of polluted water
 
Savitri bai remembers her son Vinod through his pencil box.

Savitri bai remembers her son Vinod through his pencil box.


Jameela Bi's son, who was born with physical disability, used this gaiter to walk

Jameela Bi's son, who was born with physical disability, used this gaiter to walk



In ‘Anderson Room’ are accounts of journalists and activists about how the tragedy was waiting to happen and the ease with which company owner Warren Anderson flew back to America within 24 hours of his arrest.

In ‘Anderson Room’ are accounts of  journalists and activists  about how the tragedy was waiting to happen and the ease with which company owner Warren Anderson flew back to America within 24 hours of his arrest.


From the pits of tragedy and despair, a flight of stairs takes you to skies of hope and determination.

From the pits of tragedy and despair, a flight of stairs takes you to skies of hope and determination.


The upper level of the building has walls decked with torches, loudspeakers, banners, brooms and various other art forms used by protesters over the years to jolt the society out of its business-as-usual approach.

The upper level of the building has walls decked with torches, loudspeakers, banners, brooms and various other art forms used by protesters over the years to jolt the society out of its business-as-usual approach.

Women activists have been the core strength of this struggle which is why they also get greater representation here. Songs of protest can be heard from the receivers as also the strong voices of those who are willing to give a fitting reply.
Women activists have been the core strength of this struggle which is why they also get greater representation here. Songs of protest can be heard from the receivers as also the strong voices of those who are willing to give a fitting reply.

Activists, both from the affected and unaffected communities, become part of the narrative.A lawyer’s handbook comes with voice of advocate Santosh Kumar who used it to fight cases of compensation for survivors.
Activists, both from the affected and unaffected communities, become part of the narrative.A lawyer’s handbook comes with voice of advocate Santosh Kumar who used it to fight cases of compensation for survivors.

This stethoscope helped Dr H H Trivedi diagnose many who were condemned to live a slow death.

This stethoscope helped Dr H H Trivedi diagnose many who were condemned to live a slow death.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

From lab to lead, when scientists turn journalists


The mock press conference in action.

“You are misquoting us,” we threw back the most frequently used alibi against media persons and triggered laughter. Four of us journalists had switched roles with a group of scientists at a mock press conference on the campus of Trans Disciplinary University (TDU), Bengaluru.


The session, a part of the orientation workshop for TDU-Nature India media fellowship, was meant to dispel the misgivings between two groups on either side of science communication, and as senior journalist and fellowship coordinator S Gopikrishna Warrier said, to show ‘how the shoe fits’.


The day before, we had selected an already published study that said women can read emotions through eyes better than men. The plan was simple: Give them a taste of their own medicine. Throw a lot of jargon and let the scientists come up with a news story that will sell. As we took our seats in front of the gathering of around 60 science professionals, however, all that confidence petered out.


We started on a faux pas as Sahana, yet to shed her journalistic strength, tried to simplify research results for the audience. A quick intervention helped and we were soon using mobile screens to prattle terms like single nucleotide polymorphism and genomic inflation. There was high hope that the scientists, dealing with pure botanical science at TDU, would have little understanding of psychology. The gathering, to our dismay, was trans disciplinary in true sense. They rejected the study as a farce.


At one point, one of the senior scientists, asked us to demonstrate the validity of our research, “Tell me how am I feeling right now by looking into my eyes,” he challenged.


“A bit skeptical,” teased Amrita evoking mirth.


Despite all the camaraderie, however, our assumed scholarship was of no match to the inquisitiveness of the scientists who said they don’t trust the researchers and threatened not to publish anything.


Our handling of queries about conflict of interest, funding, and practical applications of the results incited more laughter than confidence. Mr Warrier came to our rescue when he asked students to put questions as well, saving us from the seniors. When they came up with headlines like, ‘Cognition is still a mystery’, our job was done.


By the end of the exercise, all of us had learnt new lessons in communication.


“We realised that it’s easier to ask questions,” said one of the scientists.


“It’s essential to simplify science for everyone to understand and make use of it,” said another.


As journalists, we realised the importance of asking the right questions to retrieve the useful information buried in exhaustive methodologies and tedious equations.


We went on to discuss the instances of scientists who are good communicators and journalists who can be trusted for authentic presentation of most technical subjects. Such interactions can ensure that scientists trust journalists and latter remain faithful to science.

Wednesday, March 01, 2017

From the seat of the 'Unknown'


The gardens of Thai Monastery at Sarnath.


I attended a week-long Vipassana retreat recently at the beautiful Thai Monastery in Sarnath. Yes, the same Vipassana you might have heard people boast about a lot including stories of hardships.

Thankfully, my experience was neither hard, nor something to boast about. I didn’t get any great revelations of how the outer or inner world works. And it was not difficult to keep mum. Partly, it was because of the flexible format of this retreat which was very unlike the famous Goenka-style Vipassana. The latter, I am told, involves silence sitting for 10 days and is a very strict practice involving need to focus on your body sensations.

The retreat I went for is conducted by Christopher Titmuss, a 72-year-old spiritual teacher from UK who used to be a Buddhist monk for good many years, living in forests and caves of India, Thailand and other Asian countries. But most notable of his personality is the great sense of humour which makes the whole experience so much fun.

We had silent sittings, but the day also had time for walking meditation, which were refreshing; discourses on Buddha’s teachings, and we could as well have one-to-one interviews with the teachers, if needed (besides Christopher we had Zohar, who has been on the Buddhist Dharma path for last 20 years).

Sarnath is a satellite town of Varanasi but thankfully not as crowded and noisy. The wide roads are adorned with big neem and peepal trees while the ancient Buddhist stupas and beautiful monasteries add to the landscape.


Sitting on the gardens of the Thai Monastery before entering its secluded Vipassana grounds, I was wondering why am I here, what do I need from this? No answer came except the desire to explore the unknown, within and without.

The dread to be cut off from the world for a whole week rushed in and remained there for a couple of days. The organisers recommend we give in our gadgets at the start of the retreat to be kept in a trunk, which Christopher called “The Coffin”.  Many still didn’t surrender. My roommate, a teacher from the US, kept his Kindle. This, he said, was for the days he has to be confined to the room due to chest congestion and read something, instead of brooding over the level of phlegm.

Our days would start at 05.45 with a very energetic yoga session that made me fall in love with my body. A sitting followed by breakfast and some ‘Karma Work’ time and we would fall into the rhythm of the day. The most enchanting view was of so many people (around 40) together in one small campus and eating, walking, doing the chores without sharing a word with each other. It might have left the birds wondering.

I started getting into “the mode” only on the third day. Increasing focus on the present, away from happy memories and fearful future, there was the live moment to experience, for far longer time than in the outside world.

Not engaged with any gadget or entertainment source, I went within and despite the effort to remain in the present, certain things came rushing in with a great force. This is how I guess Vipassana works. During daily instructions in the morning, teachers told us not to reject anything that comes by. The time of intense love and loss, identity crisis and need to indulge in frivolous means came and went by.

Self-pity was a major emotion that overwhelmed me. In routine life, I seldom experience the “victim mode” but it was surely lying deep there waiting for space; else it would not have put me so off balance for so long. Finally, it was a walk in the thriving gardens of the monastery that made me get over it. The trees, sparrows and the sky made me realise the web I had woven around myself, forgetting the small identity I have in this big, beautiful world. The need for supremacy, to dominate through acquisitions of wealth and relations is bane of human society.

Things got better soon after. Zohar introduced us to the states of ‘Chitta’ or ‘Chit’ (heart-mind) as we call it in Hindi. She listed the unwholesome states and how we need to move from those to wholesome states. I had a specific problem to ‘Desire’ being listed in the unwholesome state. Zohar explained this later that desire can lead to love but only if we know how to play with it. For instance, the desire to do good may get harmful for us if overdone or we may get too attached to the act to get pride from it. So, always watching yourself and achieving that balance is important.

Another useful tip was to recognise the contraction in body or heart when doing something or being with someone. Our nature is to expand as I experienced in the gardens earlier. Being limited to your space or feeling suffocated/contracted means you need to move out or work on it through patience, empathy and other positive acts or wholesome ‘Chit’.

This was the first time I was on a silent retreat. The meditation retreats earlier were mostly to the Osho centres. I always came back with a not-so-good feeling due to commercialisation of these places and snooty people who arrive there. Last time, an old spiritual teacher told me and a friend that we should attend a workshop he is coming up with on how to plant paid news in media.

In contrast, one of the basic tenets of Dharma path is ‘Right Livelihood’. This is not to degrade the teachings of Osho whose work has been very important for me; especially his reading of ‘Nirvan Upanishad’ was of immense help at the time I decided to leave my job. But the way those on spiritual paths tend to behave sometimes make me question their practice of ‘detachment’.

Thankfully, the energy at Sarnath was more comforting. It was not a peaceful time though. And I got to know later that everyone was on a similar roller coaster. But all of us were glad to have touched those raw nerves. As it happened, I was reading Jiddu Krishnamurti’s ‘The World in Crisis’ on the train to and from Varanasi and his talks somehow helped put together all pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.

Christopher comes to India around this time every year. The man is very political and I loved it. He has campaigned against land mines, environment destruction and also GM food. During one of the sessions, we sent ‘Meta’ (goodwill) to the Muslims from middle east and African countries facing war at home and hate abroad (at that time, thousands were stranded on US airports). "May they be safe," is all we could wish.

In case you are also interested in attending a retreat with Christopher next year, check out his website- http://www.christophertitmuss.net/

This works on donation basis.

Do write in your experiences with meditation or any thoughts that come to mind after reading this.

Update (March 7, 2017)- I guess the real impact of Vipassana manifests after some time. It's almost a month now and I am feeling so positive and 'in the moment' these days. Taking it slow, still. Less of fear, more of life :)