BARTON FINK TOWERS, SIVASHAKTI AMMA AND BANGALORE LORE

An interesting few days (so what else is new???)! I have moved on from Tiruvannamalai and am now in Bangalore. Its a strange sensation to be back where I started (Bangalore was where I flew too after escaping Mumbai) at this midway point on my post-school travels!

I elected to leave Tiruvannamalai early as you know. The main reason was the mouldy shitpittiness of the NS Lodge, or Barton Fink Towers as I like to call it. I guess I had to stay in a shitpit at some point during my stay in India, just to complete the experience. In this instance, it was a literal shitpit as well as a metaphorical one. Only a few inelegant metres down from my room's door was a discrete pile of I-don't-know-what kind of poo nestling happily on the floor. Not being an expert on such matters I couldn't tell you what its source was (it looked like it was probably an animal) but hey!, you don't need to know every detail of my trip, do you?

Battling with the salubrious delights of the bathroom was fun too. The toilet, which I gave such a glowing review of in the last post, turned out on closer inspection to look more like the one that eats the bogbrush in one of the key episodes of THE YOUNG ONES, although not quite as bad as the shit-stew filled one in TRAINSPOTTING. Attempting to flush it was entertaining. Pulling on the handle saw water spurting out of the plumbing behind it everywhere and unless one was very careful about how precisely one put it back, the flush just kept on flushing. Most excellent.

Plumbing problems didn't stop there. Only one tap in the whole bathroom worked - the one used for showering. I forgot to mention that one of the idiosyncratic things about India is that you don't bath or really shower but use something called a 'bucket bath'. This involves filling a large bucket with hot water (or cold if you're staying in Barton Fink Towers) and then, using a scoop, washing yourself with that. Actually its terrific and one wonders why we don't do it in the West. You have much more control over the water and it feels great. Except in Barton Fink Towers. Whoever had 'designed' the bathroom had forgotten that it opened onto the bedroom and so needed something to stop the water from flowing out. As a consequence once I had had my bucket bath I realised that the bedroom floor was swamped with water. Terrific. I wiped up what I could with a rotting bath mat and climbed into bed.

Both my nights at BF Towers were pretty hallucinatory. Not only was the fan incredibly loud but it made little or no impact on the temperature of the room which was baking. The night before's bucket bath was pointless as I woke up very early (no curtains on the windows, another intriguing design feature) both dehydrated and covered in sweat, the water in my bottle having apparently been boiled during the night. Why didn't I move? You may ask. After all I said I would. But I decided in the end that I wasn't staying long enough for the bother. And anyway, as I said, staying in an authentic Shitpitty hotel was all part of the Journey.

The rest of my time in Tiruvannamalai was, on the other hand, amazing. Looking back over the pictures of the Temple on my phone, I realised that I must have been open to it somehow because the power of the place remains intact in them. My last day at the Ashram and meeting these new people was amazing too.

First of all there was Sara's friend, Volker. To my surprise, Volker lived only minutes away from where I had stayed while on the Ashram. Volker is from Germany and lives in India with his wife and their two beautiful adopted children. The hospitality I met with them was huge. There was no reason for them to have me over but after about two hours he and I were still talking over a few cups of Masala Chai. We compared notes and it was fascinating hearing his story, how he had come out to India to study under a guru, how he had fulfilled the initial tests he had been given and now had been living there for almost ten years. He told me how the biggest shock to come wasn't in India but in going home. He told me how he had returned to Germany after his first visit and gone straight back to work. After the intensity and life-changing nature of his time out here the preoccupations and trivia of what he found himself going back to hit him so hard that he became ill. After what he had seen - the suffering as well as the joy - what he was expected to go back to seemed inconceivable. Now he lives in India permanently, only going back on occasion.

We discussed our encounter with India and its culture and agreed it was a place where the mythology was still alive, where the Gods still trod the earth and in the minds of men. We talked about Siva and agreed about how it was that energy in India which caused the 'crack-ups' Westerners experience out here before becoming used to it, 'crack-ups' which seem like hell to begin with but end up being transformations in themselves. I told him about my early struggles and he told me about his. When I told them it had taken me about a month and a half to come through, his eyes widened and he said 'That's very short!'. I was very suprised.

We discussed lots of things - how most of the Sadhus I had met who I thought were unimpressive or bonkers were Sivaite, and their slightly mad, vagabondish appearance and behaviour was all part of the anarchic path following Siva involved, in contrast to the precision and well-groomed demeanour of Priests of Vishnu. He also asked me about Auroville and when I described to him my slightly negative reaction, he told me that that was understandable, but largely to do with the fleeting nature of my visit. He told me that the people I would have met were only transient Aurovillians, there for a short while, and only involved superficially, hence my reaction. The real Aurovillians, he said, I wouldn't have seen. These, he said, were so busy about the real work going on there that I would not have encountered what they were or what they represented. So two lessons in judging by appearances!

Volker was a really lovely guy and extraordinarily interesting to know - intelligent, welcoming, informed. Another example of the humanity of the people one meets out here. We vowed to stay in touch and I think if I come back we are sure to see each other again.

He also explained to me how to get to a woman known as SivaShakti Amma, or SivaShakti Mother. Sara had told me I had to go to one of her 'Darshans' when she had recommnended Tiru to me. Volker drew me a little map and I set off to the restaurant which was at the end of the street she was on called Ushas. He made a face when I told him I was in Barton Fink Towers and said it was a shame as there were loads of guesthouses near the Ashram but in hindsight, perhaps things worked out for the best because leaving early focussed my mind and spurred me on to more interesting things!

Usha's was lovely and I kicked myself that I hadn't noticed it before. Spacious and relaxing, I rested there for a few hours after having some lunch. I needed it after my hallucinatory night at Barton Fink's. I sat there sipping on a Chai and reading Gandhi's autobiography (of which more when I have time). It was great.

At about four o'clock I set off for the SivaShakti Amma. I had never even heard of her before Tiru and as if by magic when I was in an internet cafe earlier that day trying to book a train ticket there she was smiling on the screensaver. I walked down the street Volker had shown me on the map which, if it had a name, should have been called Cowpoo Lane, largely because it reeked for cow shit which was pretty much everywhere steaming in the setting sun. And not just cow shit, but several lazy renegade cows who were happily walking away from their owners in whatever direction they fancied. At one point I saw a cart being pulled by a strolling cow without any sign of an owner nearby and thought 'That can't be right', but keeping my focus on the Amma I walked on (anyway how on earth was I going to be able to wrestle a cow to the ground and return it to an invisible owner who was probably lying somewhere having a snooze?).

I arrived at the building in which the Amma was to giver her darshan at about 4.30, in time to settle before she arrived. A darshan is literally a 'glimpse of God' and is thought of as the moment when a Guru or Teacher is able to give their followers an experience of the Spirit. According to the information Sara had given me, the Amma was a reincarnation of a Sivaic Priest and so worked directly from her Soul.

I stepped into the large, white room in which she was to appear and sat down. As with RM's Meditation Room, the mental energy in it was astonishing - the same quality of silence, concentration, stillness. There were only one or two other people there, all Western like me, deep in meditation. There was a great sense of what I can only call Holiness to the place. In front of the mats on which we all sat was a small wicker chair with a few sidetables next to it. On the four walls was a different picture of the Amma, who looked serene and rather beautiful. A woman at the door who was officiating asked me to move my bag, which I did, and I began to meditate myself.

Sara's instructions said that it was wise to keep one's eyes closed during the Darshan. In the silence of the preceding period, I found myself becoming very calm. There was absolutely no noise. I wondered what time it was and what the procedure was when the Amma came in. At one point I opened my eyes to see what time it was - and there she was. Somehow she had entered the room completely silently and was sitting on the wicker chair. I had no idea she had come in. The effect was almost miraculous.

She was a tiny woman, probably in her late thirties, early forties, dressed in an orange robe. She was utterly beautiful and had a serene, benign smile on her face. She gave off an extraordinary energy as she looked quietly at everyone. It was almost as if one was not quite looking at a human. There was something astonishing about her. I am deeply grateful that I did get to see her, even if only briefly (I closed my eyes almost immediately), as the memory is still very much with me.

I continued to meditate and a wonderfully enriching feeling filled the room, covering me. I can only describe it as a feeling of great warmth and kindness. I could hear some shuffling about but didn't want to open my eyes to break the sensation. After a period of about ten to fifteen minutes, when the Darshan was over, I opened my eyes and she was gone, just as silently as she had come, as had some of the other people who had been present.

I continued to stay where I was, allowing this wonderful feeling to flow over me. It was very beautiful. Eventually I got up and left, walking into the red glow of the setting sun, carrying this feeling of a very healing, feminine, motherly energy with me. It was a strong, but wonderful contrast to the equally benign feeling of Ramana Maharshi, whose Ashram I was walking to next. I won't forget the Siva Shakti Amma and, put together with the Pondicherry Energy Healer and the vibe of the Aurobindo and RM Ashrams, feel blessed to have experienced such magical things. Delusion? Should I be beheaded by Richard Dawkins? To be frank, I don't give a fuck. The experiences I was having were so healing, so full of possibility and magic that I no longer can even be bothered to care.

My final few hours at the RM Ashram were equally special. More time in the Meditation Room gave me yet more of a powerful feeling of the man's presence, and I had a glimpse of what his silent teachings must have been like. My final meal there saw me feeling utterly bonded with everyone else on this journey with me. I will also never forget it.

Then, a surprise. The day before a guy named Ashok had suddenly emailed me on Facebook to say he was in Tiruvannamalai and also admired Ramana Maharshi. Did I want to meet up? A little wary, remembering Napoleon, I said sure but I was quite busy. As I stood up to leave the Internet Cafe someone appeared in the doorway and said 'Jake?' I looked at him and said, startled, 'Ashok?' and he said 'Yes!' He looked like a decent guy, about late 20s. We shook hands and went for a drink and a chat. We got on really well. He was a genuine guy, interested in Ramana Maharshi, Sai Baba and all the rest, interested in asking the big questions. We chatted, he showed me around Tiru (which looked magical once night had fallen) and we parted, agreeing to stay in touch. Once again, India had yielded up another surprise and another friend.

Back to Barton Fink's for my second hallucinatory night and then the next day an early bus to Bangalore. As I say, I don't regret leaving early as Tiruvannamalai gave me everything I could have wanted and more to move on with and what is waiting for me here in Bangalore is probably just as important.

I have been here for about 24 hours now and I LOVE IT - in spite of an initial reaction of shock shock shock at the affluence and Western-style shops and billboards everywhere. The last thing I was expecting to see after the spirituality of Tiruvannamalai were enormous shopping malls, Marks and Spencers, Tescos (!!!) and - gasp! - YES! - the first MACDONALDS I had seen in the whole of India! That was pretty grotesque, as was the chaotic journey I had to take from the bus station out to where my hotel is in Whitefield near where Sai Baba's secondary Ashram is... I even saw another branch of the legendary BRA AND PANTY lingerie store. Clearly they are surviving the lack of demand in knickerless Tamil Nadu and thriving in the capital of Karnataka.

But I see its late and this has been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG post with more wierdy Mumbo Jumbo events... So Bangalore and reconnecting with some of the people from the school can wait until tomorrow... Until then, sweet dreams and lots of love and may you never see a branch of Barton Fink Towers open near you ever!

FROM THE SUBLIME...

...to the f***ing ridiculous!

Well, I had to move out of the Ashram today which was not a little frustrating. I can see why. When I handed in my key (having dodged a nightwatchman who wanted a tip) they waved me off with a smile. No charge or anything for my whole stay. Freebooters could easily rip them off. Had I arranged a proper stay about three months ago I could have stayed on site for the whole week and probably had an even more amazing experience. It has been beautiful staying here. Very relaxed and calm and a real privilege to be able to take your contemplation time quietly back to your room at the end of the day. You will have noticed the tone of my last few posts. Its been very special. Like being able to stay at the top of the world for a little while where one's thoughts can fly. Ah well, at least I know that if I want to return I can with better organisation!

Alas, the hotel I have moved on to is a real hole. If you've seen BARTON FINK you will know what I mean. It has the same feel to it without the lucky quality of being a film set. When I stepped off the rickshaw and looked at the dusty, weatherbeaten sign that advertised its presence in a slither of building between two other ramshackle constructions my heart sank. I climbed the steps into a dank, dark reception hall where the guy on site levered himself up off the floor as if he had been alone so long he had forgotten how to walk. I said I had made a reservation and he said 'Do you want to see the rooms first?' I said I was happy to sign in now, to which he said, his eyes widening with meaning a little, 'Yes, but do you want to see the rooms first?'

I got the message and said 'Yes, ok.' and he guided me up two less than salubrious flights of stairs to a room. He unlocked the door and showed me inside. The Rough Guide describes this hotel as 'excellent value for money' and 'neat and clean'. Well, they might have been back in the 14th Century. This first room had holes in the sheets, mould on all the walls, a mirror so grimed up it as opaque and a wrecked toilet that looked as if a bomb or very large person had landed on it, damaging it irrevocably. I was about to say 'Well, ok.' when I head the guy unlocking the door to another room down the floor. I looked into that one and it was better. At least the toilet didn't look like it had melted. I decided to take it. After all, I didn't plan to spend much time in it.

I had a shower and whiled away a few hours reading THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS which I enjoyed but found a little self-consciously frustrating in its style. I began to feel very keenly the difference between being in the atmosphere of the Ashram and this new 'environment' (I use the term generously). After a couple of hours I decided to go out and look at the Temple which dominates the town and which I had been able to see from the Mountain two days ago when I was walking up to see Ramana Maharshi's meditation sites. I wandered around its walls and found a place to eat. Again, the food was delicious and I was treated as an honoured guest by the staff who made sure I ate well. As I was chowing down, the room was filled by a family from Bangalore who were down for the day on a visit before going to Vellore. They engaged me in conversation and showed me how you were really supposed to eat with your hands. Being a Westerner, I was just picking up the food and shovelling it into my mouth, trying to imitate what I was seeing around me. They showed me how you were supposed to mix the sauces and curries up with the rice and then place it in your mouth, using your thumb to send the food onto your tongue. It was so simple it was brilliant! I resolved to cook a meal like this at home and show everyone how to eat it properly.

The family left (they had a very striking daughter!) and I set off to look at the Temple. Its another magnificent, enormous complex like those at Thanjuvar and Madurai, also built in the form of a mandala, but today, for some reason, I wasn't open to it. Perhaps I had been spoilt by the feeling at the Ashram, where the spirituality was so pure and so simple. Here just seemed empty to me...

On the other hand, as it was so unvisited by tourists, I found myself able to walk it unmolested. There were no guides running up to offer their services, nothing like that at all. It was Temple life in the raw. For that I am grateful.

I am equally grateful for the discovery on the other side of the Temple of a series of spanking new Lodges all of which look really nice. To be fair on the Rough Guide, the edition I have is from 2000. Maybe the people at the NS Lodge where I am represented the cutting edge of accomodation then and maybe these new lodges have sprung up recently. I looked in a few and decided to move into one tomorrow. Phew!

So the plan is to stay here for a few more days and see how commuting to the Ashram works. If it doesn't, if the magic is lost, I will move on to Bangalore and Whitefield a little early and see what happens there...

Improvise, improvise! I was told India would throw up surprises. Just as you least expect it the unexpected always happens!

HOLD THE PRESS! UPDATE!

No, the magic hasn't gone, but I think I will still move on to Bangalore in a day or so rather than stay the full week. I popped back to the Ashram this afternoon, feeling a little divorced from it and who should I bump into but my untipped watchman who gave me a stinking look, a bolt of bad energy and muttered something incoherent about my room. I didn't know the Tamil for 'You're just pissed off that I didn't give you a tip.' so smiled at him, pretended I didn't understand (in truth I didn't really) and moved on, wondering if I was about to be barred from the Ashram as an undesirable. There is nothing anywhere which suggests that only if you are staying on sight can you enter, so I decided to risk it, thinking that if I was thrown out then I would definitely leave the next day.

Sitting in the Meditation Room again I began to realise I probably SHOULD move on in a day or two because what I was supposed to get from the place I had already got. Ramana Maharshi's whole teaching was about the God/Atman in Man. That was his Onwith, just like Aurobindo Ghose. I realised that this was why I hadn't responded to the Temple earlier, which was not on this tangent. I began to understand anew the Hindu adage that all the Gods - Siva, Vishnu, Krishna etc - were avatars of a higher truth, they weren't the Truth. If one stayed at that level, one stayed at that level. Perhaps this is true of all spiritualities. Unless one aims to the top of the mountain, one stays midway, even if one feels comfortable in the embrace of the God there. That's fine, but one is missing what the God is pointing at, be they Christ, Krishna or anyone else...

All this mystical talk. Sorry guys. Do I mean it literally or do I mean it metaphorically? Who knows? I certainly don't. You decide. But one thing I have learnt out here, if you want to understand a culture and a population, you have to honour their Gods, or at least what they represent. Otherwise you will always be a foreigner, at odds with everything around you.

Make of THAT what you will! Ha!

In the meantime, tomorrow I am meeting up with friends of my friend Sara Griffiths. Sara was in the first ever professional production of a play I directed on a main stage, playing the heroine in LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN at the Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich in 1996. She was terrific and we have stayed in touch ever since. At my leaving do she appeared to say goodbye and Godspeed to me and revealed that she too was about to go to India. She was going on a twelve day retreat at about the same time as I was in Koorg to Tiruvannamalai. It took a number of phone conversations and exchanged emails until I realised that this was where the Ramana Maharshi Ashram was. Although it was somewhere I wanted to go I couldn't find how to get there. Sara was able to give me all the details and put me in touch with two people - Volker, who ran her retreat and Karna, an Indian who showed her around. She also sent me details of the things she did, some of which I will be following up.

So thanks again to that delightful thing 'coincidence', I was able to reconnect with a friend and learn how to get to somewhere I wanted to go. Tomorrow I will meet with Volker and Karna and experience what they have to offer. Then, perhaps, I will visit the Ashram one last time before heading off to Bangalore the day after...

So things are looking up again! Now back to the luxurious room in my BARTON FINK hotel!

ASHRAM DAYS

I have been here now for two and a half days and the experience is terrific. Sadly, my time staying on the grounds of the Ashram comes to an end tomorrow, so I will have to move out to a hotel for the time that remains. A shame, but there we are.

I haven't spent all my time in the Ashram and have ventured down into the town. Like all the other towns I have visited, Tiruvannamalai is a hot, congested, chaotic place, but not without its charms. Its an off-the-beaten track location which, although it sees plenty of pilgrims, doesn't see many out and out tourists, so its an Indian town with no spectators. It has an energy of its own and so far, I like it. I popped into a roadside shop to get some new shirts (my old ones were falling apart and turning permanently brown). It was a Tibetan shop and the guy inside was really nice. The shirts were very cheap (200 Rupees, barely a few pounds). I refused to look like a cliche and got three very simple white ones with long arms to keep those pesky gnats off. But the encounter was a nice one...

Tiruvannamalai throws the atmosphere of the Ashram into stark relief and makes you ask the question of what is more 'real', the Ashram or the town? The answer comes back "Both". There are two perspectives on life here, the chaos and darkness of the struggle to get by and the calm and peace of discovering the place of stillness. Does the chaos mean the stillness is false? Does the fact that RM spent most of his time not leaving the Ashram or Mountain mean his teachings were false? Surely not. Until the whole world has the peace of an Ashram, Ashrams of this kind will be needed. The chaos of the town would be all the worse with out the opportunity of peace nearby. Would the darkness be any the less if the spot of light were taken away? You decide. We live in a part of the world where the silent places are getting harder to find... I wish I knew more places like this in the UK I could go to. The nearest equivalent was a the Abbe des Premontaires in Pont A Mousson in France I went to last year as part of a theatre festival. It would be great to have such retreats in the UK and I am sure there are many. I remembered how I had toyed with the idea of setting one up for two weeks of the year somewhere in Cornwall. Somewhere people could relax, talk, contemplate etc without any hassle. Any takers?

The doors of the Ashram seem to be open to all. The road its on is lined with other Ashrams and little Temples, with orange-clad Sadhus walking up and down doing their thing. As I said before, they look as whacked out and emaciated as the Untouchables and beggars one sees everywhere. Some look positively bonkers. There is far more spirituality in the Ashram among the ordinary people. More and more I think that the Spirit isn't found in the Priesthoods anywhere any more, its to be found in individuals and ordinary folk. Perhaps it has always been thus. I read by chance a phrase from the Dhammapada today which read:

"If a man cannot find a companion who is superior or even his equal, he should resolutely follow a solitary path; for no good can come from companionship with a fool."

I guess it has always been thus. The Sadhus look as lost as anyone else, and ask you for money as much as anyone else. How could one learn from such as that?

Today was a quiet day of more contemplation. I decided to stay pretty much around the Ashram except for a brief visit into town. I will see plenty of that from tomorrow onwards! I moved around, rested, read some books, especially some of the words of 'the Mother' who had been behind Auroville. A highly impressive woman with a great integrity and clarity of mind. At one point I reentered the Meditation Room and was struck anew by the atmosphere there. It was even more like the 'negative silence' I had encountered at the Aurobindo Ashram. The mental energy and stillness of the different people there cast a profound, indefinable spell over the room and one felt one was entering a meditative state without even having to do anything (a bit like passive smoking perhaps?). I sat there drinking in the vibe and watching the people around me about their meditations. I had never seen such intensity before. I understood for the first time perhaps what meditation was about. These people were somewhere else. Their bodies were switched off and their Consciousnesses were elsewhere. It was very powerful to behold.

I became aware during the day through reading about RM that much of his teaching involved absolute silence during which time he would emanate energy to those around him. Only if they could not receive it would he talk or answer questions. This may sound like poppycock to most but sitting there in the silence in that room where he had been it made perfect sense to me. In the corner of the room was the couch where he used to recline with a full-length portrait of him. The sense of that Silence That Speaks was very real.

I even finally cracked Meditation myself! I have never really been able to meditate, like most Westerners I know, who either only do it superficially or confess to me in private that they have no idea how it works. I have always got bored, or my mind wandered off or, if I was on my own,. was dogged by the idea that I was doing it wrong. Perhaps I was always expecting some monumental thing to happen and it never did. Who knows? But it always seemed silly to me and people who took it seriously always seemed to take themselves too seriously so I was very Dawkinsian about it. But sitting there with all these people in a deep state of Consciousness I felt all sorts of ideas and thoughts coming up into my Mind. I was thinking upon the simplicity of RM's teachings and the idea that everything was Brahman, the One, above even the Gods and into my mind came the image of the Trimurti, that is the Trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Siva - Creation, Preservation and Destruction, all three Principles at play in the Universe - all of which are transcended and become One in Brahman, and suddenly it hit me that that was the purpose of the Lotus Position, to create in the human form a harmony of these forces, the body thus becoming a symbol of the Unity and Cycle of All.

I decided to try something, closed my eyes and sat crosslegged and then imagined the Trimurti in my body - Brahma, Creation, on my head, Vishnu in my right hand and Siva in my left. I imagined lines tracing all three and began circulating my mind around them as I breathed. Something clicked and it happened. The experience everyone talks about - Light, exhiliration, energy, calm, release. After a while of this I opened my eyes and almost cried with joy at the sensation. Who knows? Perhaps it was the location and the communal feel of being there with all those people, but it was very special and I will try it again. I guess its like everything else. It works when you find your own way.

It feels right to be here for this quiet time of contemplation and rest. By the end of each day, the depth of the experience intensifies. I watched as the Vedas were sung once more and then hymns were given by two groups of men and women. When that was over a group of Indian pilgrims spontaneously began singing in praise of the Bagwan (RM) and everyone watched as the singing spread. It was very simple and very affecting. Throughout all of it people just sat around, some meditating, some just absorbing the atmosphere. Again, there was no dogma, no doctrine, no forms, no God or Goddess to worship, just everyone in their place doing their thing, drawing from it what they wanted. Very in keeping with RM...

So I move out of here tomorrow and into a hotel. I am here until April 1st (ha!) when I will be heading up to Bangalore where I will meet up with Julia and Michael from the school in the Sai Baba settlement at Whitefield before heading on to Puttapharty after that and so on as described.

To the future!

POSTSCRIPT

While I have you, I thought I would include Ramana Maharshi's description of his 'near death experience' which caused him to attain the Selfhood he preached. If you remember I mentioned it in the context of my own Dark Night Of The Soul back at the School. It makes a bit of sense of what he was about and also what I was talking about back then... Its quite long, which is why I have included it as a PS. Its written on the wall inside the shrine dedicated to him. There's a black statue of the man himself which someone has thoughfully put a clean pair of pants on (the same ones as in the pictures perhaps?). Anyway here it is. Make of it what you will. Hoodoo or hooray? You decide. :

"It was in 1896, about 6 weeks before I left Madurai for good (to go to Tiruvannamalai - Arunachala) that this great change in my life took place. I was sitting alone in a room on the first floor of my uncle's house. I seldom had any sickness and on that day there was nothing wrong with my health, but a sudden violent fear of death overtook me. There was nothing in my state of health to account for it nor was there any urge in me to find out whether there was any account for the fear. I just felt I was going to die and began thinking what to do about it. It did not occur to me to consult a doctor or any elders or friends. I felt I had to solve the problem myself then and there. The shock of the fear of death drove my mind inwards and I said to myself mentally, without actually framing the words: 'Now death has come; what does it mean? What is it that is dying? This body dies.' And at once I dramatised the occurrence of death. I lay with my limbs stretched out still as though rigor mortis has set in, and imitated a corpse so as to give greater reality to the enquiry. I held my breath and kept my lips tightly closed so that no sound could escape, and that neither the word 'I' nor any word could be uttered. 'Well then,' I said to myself, 'this body is dead. It will be carried stiff to the burning ground and there burn and reduced to ashes. But with the death of the body, am I dead? Is the body I? It is silent and inert, but I feel the full force of my personality and even the voice of I within me, apart from it. So I am the Spirit transcending the body. The body dies but the spirit transcending it cannot be touched by death. That means I am the deathless Spirit.' All this was not dull thought; it flashed through me vividly as living truths which I perceived directly almost without thought process. I was something real, the only real thing about my present state, and all the conscious activity connected with the body was centered on that I. From that moment onwards, the I or Self focused attention on itself by a powerful fascination. Fear of death vanished once and for all. The ego was lost in the flood of Self-awareness. Absorption in the Self continued unbroken from that time. Other thought might come and go like the various notes of music, but the I continued like the fundamental sruti [that which is heard] note which underlies and blends with all other notes."

AU REVOIR PONDICHERRY, BIENVENUE ARUNACHALA

My last few hours in Pondicherry were great. I was sorry to leave. I had really come to love the place - its laid-back charm, its comfortableness, its croissants, its crucible of East and Western culture and its spiritual presence. Its been fascinating encountering at last the more modern expression of Indian spirituality. Perhaps this is a pattern. Somnathpur, Madurai and Thanjavur were where I encountered Indian spirituality at its oldest while now with Pondicherry and here where I am now I am experiencing its most recent expression. And it won't stop here. After my encounter with Sri Aurobindo and 'the Mother' in Pondi and Sri Ramana Maharshi here I will be passing on to the two centres of Sai Baba, Whitefield in Bangalore and then Puttapharty.

This is the interesting thing about India. Saints and Holy Men continue to exist and have an effect on the world outside, not just spiritually but in the case of Aurobindo and Sai Baba, socially. Both were responsible for good works in their region, Sai Baba in particular, whose hospitals and schools all across India are tangible results of what he is up to. One imagines that in the UK someone standing up and talking about God would be laughed out of court (especially if he wasn't attached to any religion) but here it is difference. Good thing or bad thing? You decide. I am sure there are plenty of charlatans out here as anywhere else, there just do seem to be some authentic ones too...

I did manage to meet up with Harriet and Sylvia in Pondicherry, but not before I had had my second session with the Energy Healer and said good bye to Franzy and Sandra. The second session with the Healer was even more extraordinary than the first. He was more open and friendly and we had a little chat. At the end we shook hands and agreed it had been a pleasure to meet each other. What he did for me is not easy to put on a Blog, but it has changed me and only for the better. I imagine we will continue to have a connection even in years to come.

Franzy and Sandra and I enjoyed a croissant together in a little French-style bakery on the main drag called HOT BREADS. It was great to meet them and as we said goodbye, we promised to stay in touch. All of us sound like we have adventures ahead. After that, I met up with Harriet and Sylvia at the Gandhi memorial on the seafront. They were talking to a guy from Kerala who was a Katkali dancer who had told them that all his luggage and money had been stolen on the bus. He said he was waiting for two friends from London who were arriving that night but until then he was stranded. Scam or no scam? Who can tell? Well, we bought him a veggie meal and moved on. He promised to meet up with them the next day (I was heading off to Tiruvannamali, the place where Arunachala, the Red Mountain stands, the next day).

We went off and had a lovely dinner in a restaurant recommended in the Rough Guide which did international cuisine and GREAT beer! Having stayed off the beer throughout Pondicherry it was lovely to have one.

We met up again for a croissant the next morning and bade our farewells as I set off for Tiruvannamalai. For some reason I was feeling a little vulnerable so the trip was a bit odd. I got on the bus just in time before it went so it was heaving and as we set off I had the experience everyone had told me about but I hadn't yet had - a heaving Indian bus. Every possible sitting and standing inch was taken by about forty people, with some quite literally hanging on to the bus from the outside. I admired the calm and tenacity of these latter and realised how I had seen more and more how the way of life meant people were able to do things we would not dream of in the West. If an English bus was full we would curse but wait for the next one. The last thing we would do would be to hold onto the side for 200 miles!

The bus bumped and crashed through more breathtaking Tamil Nadu landscapes. I thought about how steeped I was becoming in this region of India, much more than Karnataka or Kerala, even though I had spent more time in both. We got to Tiruvannamalai mid-afternoon, and an Indian woman made sure I got off at the right stop (we shared a seat with a guy with a hacking, phlegmy cough which saw him hawking great gobs of gunge out of the window. Strange how these things make you bond with people!). I climbed off the bus and crossed the road to an eaterie (see how fearless I am?), ignoring the rickshaw drivers who were leaping towards me like flies to shit. I sat down and had another terrific Indian meal off a leaf. Really this is the way to experience Indian food in the raw. Nothing I have had anywhere else than these eating places has been better, even in the most lavish UK restaurant. The rice is always perfect and the simple vegetarian dishes just lovely. I must learn how to make some of them...

The meal was spiced up by the Dostoyevskyan inhabitants of the eaterie. All the different waiters took turns to pop over and see I was ok, as if I was an honoured guest. One had only one eye, another kept talking out loud, perhaps to me, perhaps to himself. They were an interesting bunch. Meanwhile from the table opposite a rather intense looking guy who kept ordering his wife around was staring at me. I couldn't tell whether he was going to kill me or whether he had never seen a white person before. Eventually I smiled at him and he smiled back. He didn't kill me, so I guess it was allright.

None of this scared me or phased me. It was all part of the story. After the delicious meal I got into a rickshaw and headed up to the Ashram. It lies in the shadow of the great Holy Mountain Arunachala, also known as the Red Mountain. It is here that legend has it that Siva manifested himself as an infinite column of fire so as to prove to Brahma and Vishnu what a super-cool dude he was. Since then it has remained a sacred site for Hindus and every November/ December there is a ceremony during which the Sadhus burn an enormous flame on the summit to symbolise Siva's promise to return annually to purge the world of sin.

I didn't know what to expect, and was surprised when I arrived to discover it wasn't half way up the mountain. Somehow I had assumed that it was in some secluded spot on the Red Mountain, but it wasn't (I later realised I had thought this because Ramana Maharshi had meditated in caves further up the mountain). First impressions were not favourable as I saw a couple of Varkalan/Auroville-like dreadlock yoga-on-the-beachers walk by. "Oh God!" I thought, "Is it going to be like this?"

I got out of the rickshaw and went to the induction office. A rather hostile seeming guy took my details and told me I was able to stay for three nights rather than three days, which was disappointing. He gave a key to a guide and I set off to find my accomodation. The Rough Guide had said visitors would more than likely stay in dorms so I was ready for that. Instead I was taken to a beautiful, secluded, leafy building three minutes walk from the Ashram and showed my own room. It was lovely, spacious, comfortable and very relaxed. It felt like somewhere where one could really relax and contemplate, not in luxurious, hotel-like surroundings but very simple, monastic conditions, rather like the Valli Hotel in Thanjavur. Nice, not harsh, but simple.

I was unpacking my things when a guy walked past the door and said "Hello." He introduced himself as Pierre, a Frenchman from near Mont Blanc. He had just come from Auroville. He seemed like a very relaxed, friendly guy and we chatted for a while. He explained the routine at the Ashram (really there isn't one and what there is fits on a small piece of paper). Somehow I felt hugely relieved to have made contact with a friendly face and felt perhaps I could enjoy being here. It wasn't going to be like Auroville...

After unpacking I went back to the Ashram and I have to say, I don't know why I had such a negative intitial reaction as the place is blissful. Its founder - or at least the guy it grew up around - was the Guru Ramana Maharshi, who I have mentioned before. He was a contemporary of Aurobindo Ghose and Gandhi but also Carl Jung, who knew of him but for some reason (I can guess why) made a point of not visiting him. He even wrote an article about how he didn't visit him. One gets the impression he was a little disgruntled at the saintly reputation of the man as the article seems to suggest there was no need to visit him as such men were produced all over India.

Egos aside, Ramana Maharshi's teachings were very simple. Unlike a lot of Gurus, he didn't write huge elaborate commentaries or great theosophical works bringing the world's teachings together. Instead he focussed on what he called the Self and the need for everyone to realise it. By the Self he meant the Atma, what the Upanishads call the Soul. In a nutshell, Ramana Maharshi went to the core of Hindu teachings, that the Soul/Atma was One with the World Soul, the Atman, which was One with the Divine Man, Purusha, which was One with the Supreme Consciousness, Brahman, out of which everything, including the Gods, comes.

Thus for the Maharshi everything was very simple - 'Be as you are'. Don't get locked in theological discussion and questions about Sin or Karma, don't even ask about Reincarnation or Psychic Powers. Instead, seek to realise the Atma within you, seek to realise that thing within you that was Divine and one with the Cosmos, for that was the only reality.

I say all this because this ethos is very much the ethos of the Ashram. There is no schedule here, no classes, no lectures (apart from some readings every afternoon which you can join if you want), no compulsory Yoga sessions, no Meditation classes, no regimen at all. Instead you have a very simple complex of only a few buildings in which people can walk and talk or just sit and think or pray or relax or read. There is no elitism, no 'Beautiful People' approach, no dogma or doctrine. Its just a place in which one can be still and silent and allow the soul to breathe through you. I also have to say that it has many Indian pilgrims as well as Westerners. Indian Ashrams are clearly like Indian Restaurants in the UK. The more Indians there are present, the more authentic you know they are.

What impresses you most of all is the sense that everyone has their space. Everyone is here for their own reasons, no-one is encroaching on anyone else's journey. No-one is pushing a religion or 'Way' and there is no narcissism about. In keeping with Ramana's sayings, everyone is just 'as they are'. There is a really relaxed atmosphere with people laughing and smiling or just quietly getting on with what they are about. You are left to do your thing the way you want without hindrance or intrusion. For the first time since I arrived in India I have found a place where I can be still and silent in every way and not feel I am missing something. Relaxing here feels like being whole rather than blobbing or chilling out as I did in Varkala or Pondicherry. One just rests and allows thoughts and feelings to bubble up. Its very nourishing spiritually. One finds oneself influenced by the gentle, generous spirit of the place. Every now and then a squadron of monkeys will run past or one of the many beautiful peacocks that roam around freely will suddenly start calling out, sending all the others into a cacaphonic chorus (a less welcome bit of wildlife are armies of gnats and nits. I have been bitten all down my arms!). But by and large it is a place to be calm, to rest and think, contemplate and share some space with other like-minded people.

Which is not to say nothing is happening. The centre of the Ashram includes a large, marble-lined Temple, a shrine to Ramana Maharshi and the Samadhis or mausoleums of some of the other Swamis and Gurus who have lived and died there. There are pictures of Ramana all over the place at different times of his life, all of which seem to involve him wearing the same pair of pants and not much else (sorry, couldn't help being a little irreverent there). When I got to the Temple, it was the time at the end of the day when the Brahmins attached to the Ashram sing the Vedas and everyone is free to sit and watch, meditate and circumambulate the Temple (I discovered that this circumambulation is about absorbing the energy of the Deity invoked. A tradition in Tiruvannamalai is to circumambulate the Mountain itself, which Ramana Maharshi described as wisdom in physical form). The atmosphere is wonderful. Everyone is there as part of a community but also in their own space. There is no hierarchy and you are not required to do anything other than respond in your own way, even if that is just sitting there watching. I found a place and just sat and rested there, feeling very much part of a human group of people. Everywhere else I have been with a religious function has been about the more Polytheistic aspect of Hinduism. In this Ashram and at Aurobindo's, the focus has been on something else - a more Upanishadic/Brahmanic spirituality. If you remember, the 'Shads were how I described myself way back while I was in Karnataka. Its fascinating to encounter these two Teachers who are all about that. Here the focus is just on humanity and its Soul. I guess that is how I would describe the vibe of this place - its just about humanity and its Soul. It was good to just drink in the vibe, which was only partly disrupted by me seeing yesterday's Keralan Kattalaki guy happily circumambulating the Temple! I went up and spoke to him. He was perhaps a little embarrassed but covered it well. Ah me!

The shrine dedicated to Ramana Maharshi is similarly simple and unpretentious. I watched the Puja there that night. Again, in keeping with the man himself, its very simple and one feels very at home there. A little distance away is a Meditation Room where he used to hold court and answer questions from followers. I spent a little time there. The atmosphere is wonderful. A special places.

After the Pujas and Vedas was the dinner. I bumped into Pierre and we went in together. You are lead into an enormous dinner hall and everyone sits cross-legged on the floor while servers come round and serve you portions of food on a leaf. Its hard to describe how wonderful it is. Once again, its very simple. You feel equal to everyone else, unpretentious, just quietly eating with everyone else. I was reminded of the description in the Last Supper in John's Gospel, where Christ tells the Disciples never to sit at High Table and to always take the lowest seat as well as the moment in which he washes their feet to show them he is not their Master but their friends. It felt like that here. Very egalitarian and warm.

I also understood something I hadn't understood before about simple, frugal living. All the great Teachings speak of the necessicity of simple eating, sparse lifestyles etc. To our modern sensibilities this smacks of ascetisism, self-punishment, hatred of the world, of sensual pleasures etc. Why should we go without? Sitting eating with everyone else in this easy way suggested something else to me. It was about needing less, of shifting the focus of the meal onto something else - oneself, one's Spirit, other people. By taking all the complications and indulgence away, more energy was left for other things. And the food was really good too, like the food joint I mentioned earlier, so one enjoyed the simple fare just as much as a lavish feast. Nor did one feel overfed or bloated at the end. The servers moving among us added to this sensation of a community or brotherhood (or humanhood given there were loads of women there too).

So the experience was lovely. Full relaxed in body, soul and mind, I slept superbly, dreaming, it seemed, of Ramana Maharshi all night, as if he was whispering his calming philosophy in my ear...

The next day was equally relaxed, although a schlep up the mountain to see the Caves in which Ramana meditated was a bit knackering and did involve a guide who wanted a big tip. As we walked we passed through a settlement of Sadhus, where I saw another facet of the Brahmin caste, this time not very inspiring. Having a Priesthood which are born into their role falls into the same problem everywhere else. Not everyone is deeply spiritual just by being born so. In a sense, Brahmins are as trapped as Untouchables. Although some clearly 'make a good living', others don't, as the spartan settlement showed (one Sadhu wasn't wearing any pants so was sitting there with his balls hanging out of his robes which was a smidge unappealing). Round the corner from my accomodation is a Temple in the street where the Sadhus sleep rough each night. At least they don't feel indulgent like some of those I have met, but I am not sure being born a Brahmin is any better than anything else.

In the end it must surely come down to choice. Gandhi wasn't a Brahmin, nor was Ramana Maharshi as far as I can see. The Mahatma (Great Soul) grew inside them as they lived and they became what they became rather than had to be...

Tomorrow I will take it easy and stay in the Ashram grounds. I will ask if I can stay a little longer than three nights but even if I can't, I will still come to the Ashram from the hotel each day. There are other things to see here too, a magnificent Temple, for example, which it was possible to see from the mountain as I walked. I am struck by the massive reservoir of spirituality Tamil Nadu has always had. Like nowhere else I know. It will be interesting to visit the other places I am going to over April to compare.

Its good here. Relaxed and lovely, where one can be what one is. I feel very free here, anonymous but also focal. I am allowed to sit and think about what I care about. I haven't had that anywhere else in quite the same way ever in my life. I feel very privileged. Its good. I have found time to look back on my whole journey so far, the people I have met and the places I have been and feel very lucky. It makes me look forward to returning to the UK with strength in my heart. I hope I never forget what I have learnt here. And there is still more to come!

Such places and experiences I only thought happened in dreams, myths and stories of ages ago. Now I know they are here on earth, existing now... Its like stepping into the Morte d´Arthur or the world of Greek Legend. Its a good feeling...

CHERRYPONDI CHILLING

Its been a quiet few days. Very nice. In fact not much has happened. I'm only really writing this because as of tomorrow I will be in a place called Tiruvannamalai on the Holy Mountain of Arunachala staying in an ashram for about a week (well, for three days before moving to a hotel for the rest of the time). The Ashram is that of Ramana Maharshi, a highly regarded spiritual guru who even Jung had heard of. It will be interesting. I have never been on an Ashram and many say this is one of the most special in India. I have read some of the Maharshi's sayings and they are very beautiful. As far as I know there is no Internet in the Ashram (!!Shock horror!!) so you won't be hearing from me for a few days. I just wanted to let you know that if I am silent it is not because something untoward has happened.

Yesterday I spent resting in my hotel and strolling around Pondicherry. It being Sunday it was very quiet and very nice. I walked past a couple of Hindu Temples, the Sunday Market on Ghandi Street and popped in to the Sacred Heart Church near the station. Once again, the Indian Church was a marvel of colour and a strange mixture of innocence and kitsch. I loved it. Its naivety made me smile but also had real charm. I like the way they do Christianity out here!

I slipped off to a Cafe recommended in the Rough Guide called La Terrasse and had a chocolate and banana crepe and a wonderful couple of pots of Darjeeling tea. After that, I strolled up the seafront where a Police Brass Band was playing 'Que Sera, Sera' (!!!) before stopping off at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram to see for myself what the place where the man himself operated was like.

This was a wonderful experience. In contrast to Auroville, everyone was Indian and the genuine feeling of the place was palpable. There was no narcissism here, now New Agey stuff, just people coming to pay their respects to someone who meant a lot to them.

The Ashram is quite small but very beautiful. Visitors are ushered to the courtyard where Auribindo Ghose's remains are entombed in a flower-laden grave. The silence was... well how can I describe it? It was like a negative silence. That is in the sense that it was a silence which went far beyond silence, as if below silence. Although people were moving around and paying their respects, the sense of mental calm and stillness was palpable. Around the Tomb Indians were sitting cross-legged and meditating. The mental energy in the air was amazing. It was a pleasure and a privilege to sit and just be quiet with them all.

I sat like that, thinking and just drinking in the nourishing atmosphere for about an hour. It was a very beautiful, calming experience and I felt very blessed that I had taken the time to pop in. In the nearby bookshop I looked through some of the writings of Ghose and the Mother and was deeply impressed. For all the ambiguity of my reaction to Auroville, this was a very moving experience.

So tomorrow I go to the Ashram. Today I will continue to take it easy, may stroll through the botanical gardens and have my second meeting with the Energy Healer. If Harriet and Sylvia turn up tonight I may see them for dinner before an early night.

I am just over a month away from Istanbul. In between now and then are the Ashram, Puttapharty, Hyderabad, Agra and Delhi and a week with the kids back in the School. Plenty more to go! Wish me Godspeed!

All love to all!

PONDICHERIE AND ADVENTURES IN THE NEW AGE

Well, Pondicherry is fascinating too...

Its a very strange place at first. As I said, its an old French colony town. Indeed, it used to be the capital of French India and so stayed independent of the Raj and even Indian Independence until 1954 when France peacefully ceded it to Delhi. But even though its an Indian city it still feels unmistakenly French and is clearly very proud of the fact. The old part of the town by the seafront where I am is split into two parts, rather horrendously still called 'White Town' (where the French used to live) and 'Black Town' (where they didn't). The town planning remains as it was since the 18th Century, a well-organised grid of wide, boulevard-like streets all of which make getting around very easy. The streets are leafy, clean and not very busy. Even the policemen look well-dressed and organised and wear French-style Kepis. Everyone moves around at the pace of a southern French coastal town. Its still India, with Saris and people suddenly lying down and falling asleep in the street, but it feels like a parallel universe. All the road signs are in French and a lot of the people speak French more than English. Its stylish and relaxed and there is clearly a lot of money here. No-one bothers you like they did in Madurai or Mumbai. You get the sense Pondicherrians know they are different from the rest of India and like to flaunt it! Its so Gallic and well-organised one wonders what the hell we were doing in the rest of India for all those years - clearly not giving the Indians a blue-print for how to run a city as the French did!

On my first night I went for a stroll along the beach front. It was breezy and nice. My hotel feels like a cheap southern French hotel by the sea, but has very Indian cockroaches and bugs in it (and no toilet roll). Never mind. I'm only here for a few days. It took me a little while to adjust to the otherworldly feel of the place, which is so worlds apart from anywhere else I have been in India.

Not only that but there is another interesting otherworldy quality to this place. It is a centre of New Age Mysticism and Healing. In the middle of the city is the Ashram of a major Indian guru, Sri Aurobindo Ghose, a contemporary of Gandhi who, as well as being a Mystic, was also an agitator for Indian Independence. He came to Pondicherry when things got to dangerous in British-controlled India for him. The French were happy to give him a safe haven. His chief helper and Disciple was a Parisian Mystic known as 'the Mother', who took over the Aurobindo Ashram after he died and was responsible for founding the New Age city of Auroville just north of Pondicherry, of which more later. Looking at their writings, they were clearly two highly impressive people, very serious in their intent and, as far as I can see, with a real mystical insight. Worth looking into if you are interested in ideas.

The Aurobindo Asrham now runs most of the city, with its own TV Channel which I could see in my hotel room on the TV. A lot of shops etc have names which start with the prefix Auro-, which is a little creepy as it gives the City a slightly Stepford Wives feel, as if the whole place isn't quite real. Around this central organisation are a host of Ayurvedic, Homeopathic and other Alternative Healing organisations. India is an inherently mystical country, with professional Astrologers offering their services on every street corner. Here, though, the whole thing feels a lot more efficient and organised.

As I had planned, I met up with the Colombian woman I had met on the train just before Madurai. Her name was Franzy and she was with another Colombian friend, Sandra. We went for a coffee in a Cafe nearby and discussed India and the different things we did. Franzy is a Pranic Healer and Sandra teaches Yoga in Auroville. I mentioned that I would like to visit Auroville and take a look. They said that they would be happy to show me around.

Sandra mentioned that they were in town to buy rail tickets and to visit an Energy Healer. They asked if I wanted to come along and, keen to try anything while in India, I said yes. The experience was extraordinary and not what I expected. I won't go into detail but in the space of five minutes he had given me a detailed description of my last few years, the struggles I had been through and how he could help. I didn't tell him anything. All he had to do was look at me. Nor did he charge for his services. He gave me the healing and asked me to come back. It was a staggering experience. I felt amazing after it and have been allowing myself to process it all since... Clearly this was a remarkable man. Only in India...!

I hadn't been feeling so well anyway so I took it easy for the rest of the day. The intensity of all my experiences and all the travelling was making me a little ill - nothing serious, just a cold and cough rather as I used to get in the UK when I was overworking. I zapped myself with a few hours of Reiki and felt a lot better (Reiki has come in very handy throughout my trip). A haircut was in order so I popped across the road to have it done, marvelling at how relaxed I felt about doing so in contrast to how nervous I had been before in India. Perhaps it was the breakthrough in Thanjavur, or maybe just the relaxed atmosphere of Pondicherry...

The next day the plan was to go to Auroville and this was what happened. I hopped on an autorickshaw and set off. Auroville is, as I said, a kind of New Age City founded by 'the Mother' in the 60s. The idea was to create a community in which people could live together freely and in unity, leaving old divisions of religion, class and nationality behind to pursue a Higher Consciousness (the goal of Aurobindo and 'the Mother', who both sought to enable humanity to move on to its next step of awareness). About 2000 people live there in what is a self-sustaining community. Its still growing and the hope is that it will one day have 50000 inhabitants.

Like a kibbutz, there is no money and the whole place has been founded out of what had once been a barren wasteland of water-less rock and stone. The food is organic and local grown and the energy they use is as sustainable as possible. I saw whole fields of solar panels as I walked around and at one point, saw a 'solar cooker', a device which enabled people to cook food with the heat of the sun.

It was fascinating to visit a modern attempt to create a spiritual community after seeing all the ancient Temples of the last few days. At the centre of the City was a huge meditation site known as the Matamandir, designed by 'the Mother' to be 'the Soul of the City'. Visitors have to ask for an appointment to go in and meditate but you are allowed to look at it from a distance from what is called the Matamandir Viewing Site, which involved a lovely 15 minute walk through gardens and trees. I really enjoyed the stroll. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed, very congenial, and one felt welcome and able to take one's time as one went.

The Matamandir is like an enormous gold or bronze golfball rising up on four pillars in a large area of green. It looks, just like Madurai's Temple, like a building from another planet. According to the introductory film at the Visitor's Centre, it has within it a huge white meditation room where Aurovillians can go when they want to. In the middle of this room is an enormous crystal ball standing on a foundation of golden Stars of David (a universal symbol seen a lot in India too). The ceiling is open and enables sunlight to strike the crystal ball with great precision.

I couldn't go in, but it was a wonderful experience looking at the Matamandir from a distance. It was undoubtedly majestic and impressive and I could well imagine that it represented the highest aspiration of 'the Mother' when she designed it. In the Visitor's Centre there is a model layout of the whole of Auroville, and the buildings and centres all radiate out from the Matamandir like a kind of vortex or swirling mandala. As with Madurai, the dome is aligned with the four directions - East, West, North and South - with each side named after a different Hindu Goddess.

The viewing point and lawn were immaculately maintained. I sat and took in the view for a little while and started walking again. There weren't many people around so the experience was very peaceful. Every now and then one saw a sign pointing toa different school or area where people lived. Their names included things like Certitude, Transformation etc.

Eventually I got to what is known as the Solar Kitchen, where the whole community eat. It was here that I got a chance to encounter the kind of people who live in Auroville. I wasn't sure what I made of them. Very New Agey, dressed as you would expect them to dress. They were absolutely international and the children mixed with each other regardless of nationality or culture etc. I'm not very good with communities of institutions, and I was in two minds about the people I saw. Some looked great, but there was also a slightly Varkalan yoga-on-the-beach quality to others. Dark glasses, cool clothes, a mix of Indian and Western togs, beautiful bodies, some narcissism. It felt odd to be in another bubble of a community of predominantly white people while India lay outside and I wasn't sure how much real spirituality was going on. Maybe it was just me being insecure and anyway, who am I to judge? I was only there briefly.

Having felt great in the morning I was suddenly not feeling terrific again. I made contact with Franzy and Sandra and made my way to the beach owned by Auroville where they said they would meet me. The beach, being privately owned by Auroville, was very exclusive and as I got there first it took some persuasion (and the intervention of my taxi driver) to get in. I waited at the area where the cafe was. It felt like a very high-class resort - beach huts, showers, hammocks, an eating area etc.

Franzy and Sandra arrived. Sandra had been teaching Yoga all morning and was exhausted so rested on a hammock. Franzy and I had some lunch and chatted a bit and then, seeing how I wasn't feeling so good, offered to give me some Pranic Healing. After the Energy Healer the day before who had opened up so many questions in me I was keen to give this a try, although sceptical it would work. I do Reiki, but my belief in its efficacy for everything can come and go, even though it has been invaluable while I have been out here.

Well, all I can say is that the session was another amazing one and I am still feeling the positive effects now. I lay down on a bench and closed my eyes. After about ten minutes, I suddenly felt my breathing slowing down and a warm feeling all over my body, like slipping into an enormous glove. My temperature went down, I stopped sniffling and coughing and started to feel wonderful. I could feel a kind of glow all over my body. It was like being put back together again.

When the session was over after about an hour, I opened my eyes. Franzy had not even come near me or so much as touched me. Like Reiki, she just stood nearby and sent it. I felt really good, grounded and completely lacking in tension. My head wasn't sore, my throat felt great, I wasn't coughing etc. It was a terrific sensation of feeling strong and whole again.

I told Franzy how I felt and we chatted a bit. I asked her how she had learnt Pranic Healing and she revealed that she had come from a completely sceptical scientific background but had given that all up as her Teacher showed her how the process worked. He too had been a scientist so he was able to guide her without any New Age fudge going on. Now she is pretty much a full time Pranic Healer and has been doing treatments for free in Auroville.

After the session I drank a refreshing green tea and we all chatted. I knew I needed to head home to rest and thanked my lucky stars I had planned two more days of Pondicherry chilling before moving on. Franzy suggested a walk in the sea for cleansing purposes and that is what I did. Everywhere around me where sunbathing Aurovillians enjoying the last few minutes before Twilight. All around them were their slightly scary-looking Indigo-child like children. Was everyone beautiful and well-adjusted and happy in Auroville? It looked like it. Well, maybe just beautiful and well-adjusted. Well maybe just beautiful. I remembered that as a child I had gone to an 'Alternative' school for a little while and was struck by how the feeling of Auroville reminded me of that. Everyone looked like a kind of Ubermenschlich model for whom life was about being effortlessly young, beautiful and relaxed. It was very strange watching groups of resplendent youths drive off into the sunset on motorbikes together while around them the luxury of Auroville gave way to the toughness of Indian living, with shacks and people working on the streets. I wasn't sure where the spirituality was in that...

Auroville was an undeniably fascinating place and I would like to see more of it. Alas I didn't have the time to get a real sense of it. Experiments in living are always interesting, especially one with the high aspirations it had behind it. I would love to come back and get to grips with it a little more. Many of the projects in environmental living and philosophical and spiritual exploration sounded fascinating. I can say that the founders - Ghose and 'the Mother' - were genuinely impressive people but I have no way of judging what Auroville is now or whether it is what they would have wanted it to be. Nor would I like to judge it either negatively or positively. It was a fascinating place to visit and experience the energy of. What I do have to do, though, is vote 100% in favour of Sandra and Francie, their friendship, generosity and warmth, as well as the efficacy of Francie's Pranic Healing. It worked for me. I am won over. Its real. Maybe one day we WILL all be able to heal each other again...

So India continues to weave its magic web of fantasy and reality. A New Age Utopia in a Franco-Indian town in a parallel universe where nothing is as it seems. Once more India shows that only the imagination need be the boundary of how things can be. There is something wondrously mysterious about this corner of Tamil Nadu, where Mystics can attempt to create the City of the Future, Energy Healers are on every corner and Croissants can be served right next to Chicken Biriani.

Tomorrow is resting time. On Monday I will return to the Energy Healer to see what happens. Harriet and Sylvia are coming to town and as we are overlapping we will meet before I leave for the next destination on Tuesday. I should see Franzy and Sandra again on Monday before I go to Arunachala and the Ramana Maharshi Ashram for (I hope!) some calm and contemplation in the midst of all this amazing intensity!

This is an amazing country. As I reflect back on these last two months (ONLY TWO MONTHS!) I am staggered by what I have seen and what has happened. I am changed, being changed, changing. Its wonderful. I know I will be thinking about this country for months to come and, no doubt, will still be being changed by it long into the future.

On a lighter note, spelling out here gets better and better. I have seen LIVE BRODBOND being advertised and a LADY'S DRESS MAKKER. Most charming of all was an item on a menu in Varkala called SPAGEHETTY BOLOGINICE.

But best of all has to be the sign outside the Chola Exhibition in Thanjavur. Its worth quoting in full. Enjoy!:

"These icons which have, behind them, historical values spiritual lore and cultural mores of this part of Indian heritage, are memorably mute with wordless expressiveness they influence, however, the viewing personages like you to come out with instinctive processions of emotive articulations in their own way style. You are welcome to record your feelings."

Now who could say fairer than that?

Blessings to Pondicherry, blessings to Auroville, blessings to Incredible India!

THANJAVUR SUNSETS AND PONDICHERRY SLICE

So here I am in Pondicherry, the ex-French city on the coast of Tamil Nadu which only became part of India in 1954, just as Goa only became part of India in 1975, having been a Portuguese possession before that. Its a lovely place, but utterly surreal. It looks completely French. Indeed I could be on the French coast - very wide streets with a boulevard feel, lots of trees, French architecture - but it is still India. I suppose you could say it looks French but speaks Indian. Its a strange, but fascinating combination of realities. Last night I spoke to my Grandmother who had lived out here and she mentioned that Pondicherry was the one place the Brits could get wine from thanks to the French bringing it over from the homeland. Once again this magnificent land pulls another magic trick and catches you off guard.

I left Thanjavur at about nine o'clock this morning. The night before I went, as planned, to the Temple for another taste of its sunset charms. If anything it was even more extraordinary than before. I got there a little earlier this time and, being on my own, found myself able to have a more intimate relationship with the Temple life going on. I had timed it perfectly. Whoever was in charge of the Temple clearly had spoken to those same Mexican Shamen, as I was able to watch as the religious life of the complex began as the light began to fail.

I sat in a different place this time facing the main entrance of the Temple. Somehow I had a hunch this was the place to be. The hypnotic, other-worldly feel of twilight was already starting to effect the grounds - the same hazy light, the same hazy effect on sound. I watched as different worshippers sang to different shrines, deeply moved by one man who was singing to the image of Nandi in front of the main building. Then I watched as a Brahmin monk with a full beard came in through the gates and began to give devotion to Siva. I hadn't been impressed by the monks before, but this man was the real thing. You could see his connection with the things he was praying to. In no way was he going through the motion.

Bells began to ring, just like in a Church, and I saw two Brahmins moving from shrine to shrine activating each one with sounds, instruments and singing. I began to follow them as the sun continued to set. I realised that the whole Temple was like a kind of spiritual machine which needed to be 'switched on' at this crucial moment of the day. People continued to mill around as the light fell, visiting different shrines. The atmosphere was very special.

From a staircase, a little girl and her elder brother waved to me and started to descend the staircase to say hello. Before they could, an elderly gent came who was walking towards a shrine came up to me and said, 'Which country are you from, sir?'

'England,' I said.

His eyes widened.

'Ohhh! England! And what do you do?'

'I am a theatre director,' I replied, 'Drama. Shakespeare.'

'Ah yes!' he said, 'And you are travelling where?'

I told him and explained that I was going to Agra as part of my trip as that was where my grandparents had fallen in love.

'Oh,' he said, 'During the time of your rule?'

'Yes,'I said, worried that I was about to get a 'Brit go home' response. Had I met my first Nationalist? But no...

'We love the British,' he said, looking into the distance, 'You gave us... the railways...'

'Yes,' I said, 'And you gave us wisdom.'

He laughed. 'We suffered a lot. But we must forget the bad things,' he said. 'You left and now we must forget the bad things. We must be... friends...'

'Yes,' I said, and offered him my hand, very moved.

'No. Not friends,' he suddenly said, taking my hand, 'Brothers. We must be brothers. Friends are distant, but brothers...' and he tapped his heart with the other hand.

'Yes,' I said, 'Brothers. Brothers are close.' and tapped mine.

'Brothers. Tell your friends, your family, all of them, that there are brothers here for them,' he said and began to move off. 'God bless you. God bless you...'

It felt like a good benediction and I felt blessed. The boy and his sister had waited for me and shook my hand too. I continued walking and suddenly found myself in front of another shrine to Siva with three old guys lounging outside talking. As I watched, a young monk appeared and opened the shrine doors to reveal a magnificent image of Siva as the Lord of the Dance, one of my favourite images of all India. That day at the Museum I had found myself in a room full of Chola Bronzes of this image and stood mesmerised in front of them. I began to understand how quintessential this image was for India. All the crises I had had were to do with what it represented - the Sivaic energy which smashes up and destroys what is dead, including dead ways of thinking so that something new can emerge. So what feels like a horrific crisis is in fact part of a necessary death and rebirth just as, I had been told by some of the devotees of Sai Baba, Sai Baba had said was happening to the world now, especially in the West. What seems like a calamity is in fact a process of purification. Siva is always shown smiling serenely in the centre of the wheel. Perhaps if we understood this process more we would not go through so much suffering. As an archetype, the only equivalent I could think of in the West was the Crucifixion and Resurrection, but we have long since lost any sense of that going on within us, or maybe the Sword-wielding Christ of Revelation, but the total misunderstanding of THAT book is best left undiscussed!

I watched as the lights were switched on in that shrine and stood there for a while before moving on. The sun was still going down so different colours were still in the sky. Birds were flying around the Gopura of the main Temple and for a moment I thought I understood something all the Great Traditions say about Matter being the Mask of God. In other words, just as Science is now saying (although deeply resisted by the traditionalists), the material world we see is only the most superficial aspect of what is there. It was quite a moment, delivered in the Mystic atmosphere of the Temple bathed in the suns dying colours.

As I turned around the Gopura it was really starting to get dark and I found myself outside a shrine in which a crowd of devotees were sitting, chanting to the God within. It was very simple and very moving and I sat on the flagstones and watched and listened. I don't know how long I sat there but I was struck by the honesty of the feelings and the sense of equality. I recognised how formal yet informal Hindu spirituality was and how there was a complete lack of sermonising. Like the Greek and Roman Temples, you weren't there to be moralised to by a Priest but to have a direct connection with whichever Deity it was which you wanted to connect with, whether you thought it was without you or an aspect of yourself. Everyone was sitting in their ordinary workaday clothes. No formality at all. It was very nice.

The singing and chanting ended and everyone started to leave. People shook my hands, someone offered me sweets. It was very gentle.

Night was really drawing in and with the poetry of it all in my heart I set off to leave. As I approached the main gates the young Monk at the Siva shrine earlier was singing to the God - mantras I assume. I didn't want to leave and stood at the entrance just listening and taking in the sounds, drinking deep on the Mystic atmosphere the place had created as the sun went down. It was very special.

Eventually I dragged myself away. I remembered as I left how as I was coming to the Temple I was thinking about the Hindu Gods and my favourite, Krishna. Just then I heard a flute being played and in the sun a group of Indian teenagers were turning the corner. One in a bright blue shirt, the very colour of Krishna, was playing on a flute. They all smiled at me as I passed. I thought it was a lovely coincidence. Perhaps Krishna was showing me a sign, just as Vishnu had been doing with his Eagle, one of which, I forgot to mention, could be seen on both evenings flying around the Temple.

So it was a good night and I went to sleep feeling nourished and inspired. The trip to Pondicherry by two buses was terrific. The autorickshaw driver who drove me to the Bus Station in Thanjavur didn't leave me until he knew I was safely on the right bus. Having made sure where it was going from he dropped me there, grabbed my bags and hauled me onto the bus as it was going. He asked for nothing more. That was Thanjavur as far as I was concerned. A great place.

The journey to Pondy stretched across Tamil Nadu and involved an hour' slong wait in a boiling bus in a nearby town beginning with K. The landscape changed as we went from the more harsh, Tamil Nadu landscape I had grown accustomed to to a lusher, more fertile land as neared the Bay of Bengal. Although dust in my eyes meant my lenses were giving me agony for most of the way until I could replace with my specs, I still caught glimpses of wonderful things - cows grazing serenely on islands in massive rives, people fishing and bathing in ponds and lakes, mud huts by the road, vibrant market towns and at one point, in the town beginning with K, a beautiful, glistening Temple Tank of water for pilgrims to bathe in with a little pavilion-like shrine in the middle. Quite wonderful.

If ever you come to India, use the buses to get around as much as you can. For the longer journeys, use the trains, which are great places to recharge and centre yourself as well as meet interesting people, but with the shorter journeys, use the buses, as you can look out of the window at India passing by. Better still, you meet the ordinary Indian people.

And its cheap. Four hours journey across magical landscapes costs only one pound...

One other tip - always make sure you have your own toilet roll as not every hotel provides it. The one here and the one in Thanjavur didn't. Thank God I had been warned by my cousin Eleanor and later Julia from the School (her words were 'It will be needed!')...

This is indeed Incredible India. Let's see what Pondicherry holds... Tomorrow will be interesting as it marks the end of my second month in India. I came out here to Mumbai on Jan 20th, the day of Obama's inauguration. I have been here since then. So much has happened in between. Let's see what tomorrow holds...

THANJAVUR DREAMS AND GODDESS'S BOOBS

Well, I love Thanjavur. I liked Madurai, but it was a hot, noisy city where people fleeced you. Thanjavur is different. Its still hot and noisy, but not as much so. No-one fleeces you (not so far anyway). In fact no-one pays you much attention at all. As you walk down the streets, all you see are people getting on with their lives. It seems less stressful, less urban than Madurai. As I say, the streets are wider and there are even leafy areas where there is the nearest thing you can get to calm. And when the sun sets and night comes in, magic comes to even the most urban street.

I like my Hotel too. Not only is it simple but comfy and spacious, it is quiet. My Hotel in Madurai was slap bang in the sprawl. Valli (named after a Goddess I found) is set back from the main streets and is very relaxed. The guy on reception is very helpful and saves you money. The waiters in the restaurant are a little odd and the fare a little spartan but its still nice. Some of the rules are wierd (no eggs until 8.30 so all you can have for breakfast if you're up early is toast) and the name is too: Lingam Restaurant. Now, as I think I mentioned before, a Lingam is a kind of phallic symbol which is worshipped as a representation of Siva. No doubt as an image it goes back to prehistoric times, when Lingams and Yonis (Phalluses and Vaginas) were worshipped as the primal powers in Creation, but it feels like a strange thing to call your restaurant. 'Welcome to the Penis Restaurant' or 'Enjoy your meal at the Phallic Symbol Diner' isn't an advertising tagline you would expect to find in the UK.

While I have been here I fell in with a couple of other travellers, Sylvia (from France) and Harriet (from England I found out when I asked 'Comment t'appele-tu?' and was told 'I'm Harriet) who were spending the year travelling the world. Once more the solidarity of travellers in India took over and we wandered off around the town in search of somewhere to eat. We found ourselves wandering down ill-lit, crowded streets which nevertheless had a strange kind of frenetic charm until we ended up at was was described in the Rough Guide as 'a swish restaurant worth it for the live music'. It was very wierd. Out of an ordinary Indian street suddenly rose this palatial building with a restaurant straight out of London's West End in it. The 'live music' consisted of a guy on drums and another playing a fiddle on and off. 'Is a violin strictly speaking an Indian instrument?' Harriet asked. We thought probably not.

We sat down and ordered some food and discovered that we had been more or less following each other across India. They had also been in Cochi and gone on to Varkala which, like me, they also didn´t like much. Equally interesting for me was the fact that they had come to India via Istanbul, the very city I was travelling back to Europe through. They told me that the hotel I was going to in Istanbul was right next to the Blue Mosque and the Haghia Sophia which excited me a lot as those were the key places I wanted to go. Fantastic.

It was a good meal but the strangest moment came when we asked each other what we did. Sylvia works with Environmental Groups. Harriet told me she worked with something called Restorative Justice. My face lit up as the last show that I directed in the UK back in 2007 was an Australian piece called A CONVERSATION by David Williamson which dealt with two families, one of whose daughter had been raped and murdered by the son of the other. The format was a session of Reformative Justice. I had corresponded with people via email who were championing RJ in the UK. HArriet said: 'Was this in Manchester?'. I said 'Yes'. Then we both realised that we had exchanged emails about the show all those months ago. 'Are you Jake?' she asked and I said 'Are you Harriet?' and we were both dumbstruck that we had both met by accident half way across the planet in a little hotel in India. What are the odds? A nice coincidence, anyway.

The next day I decided to go down to the Temple which Thanjavur is famous for. I got there early on Harriet and Sylvia's recommendation as the heat would be less in the morning. Just as Thanjavur is different to Madurai, so the Temple here is different to the Temple there. Where the Madurai complex is vast and bustling, the Thanjavur Temple is vast but quiet and majestic. It isn't painted like in Madurai. All you get are vistas of beautiful sand-coloured stone which changes colour as the sun changes overhead. Where Madurai was like a market, full of active shrines, Thanjavur is more like a Western Cathedral enclosed in a vast fortress surrounded by smaller shrines. Its set back from the city, while Madurai sits plonk in the middle of a modern urban sprawl. Madurai towers up like a great alien spacecraft, Thanjavur asserts itself with great dignity with nothing to prove. Both are incredible.

I left my shoes at the entrance, passed by the Temple Elephant which was greeting the passersby and was accosted by a Mr Rajan, a Guide. After my Napoleon experience I was wary but then realised I needed a Guide and settled a price. I needn't have worried. Mr Rajan was excellent and, like the guides at Somnatophur and Madurai revealed a lot more about Hinduism.

For instance, taking your shoes off at the Temple entrance has nothing to do with hygeine but is done so the pilgrim can draw the energy of the Temple up out of the ground through his feet. As in Madurai - and indeed as with every Holy Site all over the world - Thanjuvar Temple is built along very precise measurements and geometric designs aimed at drawing down and capturing Divine Energy and passing it into those visiting. As in the West, Indian Temples are based particularly on measurements of the idea of the Cosmic Man, in India called Purusha. In Europe, the classic example are the Gothic Cathedrals, whose Cruciform shape embodies the ultimate Cosmic Man, Christ, with the Nave symbolising the Body, the central area and choir the Soul, the Tabernacle the Spirit and the Altar the Deity incarnate within it. Thus the design of the Holy Site is supposed to show how the Divinity is within all of us, just as we are made in God's image.

In India, the Gopura represents the head of the Cosmic Man, with the rest of the Temple representing the other four parts of the Body. At the same time, the pointed nature of the Gopura represents a human being praying to God. In India there are three prayer & greeting positions - hands above the head, for when you are praying to a God, hands before the face when you are greeting or praying to someone you respect like a parent or a guru and hands before the chest when you are greeting/praying to anyone else. My Guide took a picture of me in the God-praying position with the Gopura behind me and you could see exactly what he meant. Before I left the UK I had become very interested in the history of Sacred Architecture of this kind so I found all of this fascinating. In the West, as an Art it is almost completely forgotten, which is why someone like Dan Brown can astonish everyone with his crazy theories about Cathedrals etc. To us, the idea that there is a numerical/mystical symbolism to our Churches and Cathedrals sounds Hoodooey but it isn't it all. It was how things were done. Its us who have fallen off the wagon. Meanwhile here in India, because the culture has not forgotten it, these things are still alive. Talking to the Guide just confirmed all sorts of things I had discovered about our Holy Buildings in the West. Looking at a cross-section diagrams of the layout of the Temple, I was struck by how similar the dimensions were to the description of the Temple of Solomon in the Old Testament and, bizarrely, when you look at a cross-section of the Gopura, you see what looks like a Western Church spire inside it. Even more beautifully, according to a photo of the view of the inside of the Gopura from directly below the positioning of the different levels form a mandala, just as I remembered the extraordinary geometric mandala designs in the domes in Rumi's Lodge in Konya. Everything connects up.

When he found out that I knew a bit about all this stuff he got very excited and explained more and more. He showed me a Snake-God's shrine which had a five headed Cobra in it which symbolised the Unity of the Five Elements: Earth, Water, Fire, Air and Spirit (Akasha. We had the same idea with the Greek element Aether, but for some reason we don't learn about the five elements, only the four), which were also represented by the five fingers of the hand. He showed me how when we prayed the Unity of those Five Elements on one hand united with the Unity of the Five Elements on the other, the one representing the Human, the other the Divine. Thus once again I was being shown how a vision of Wholeness was embodied at the heart of Eastern spirituality - quite literally 'thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven'.

I realise this must be very boring for some people but it fascinates me. Anyone who is bored, skip down a few paragraphs to the sunset bit... I've given it the title 'SUNSET BIT' so you won't miss it. Now on with the BORING BIT...

The Guide took me to the inner sanctum of the main Temple which is dedicated to Siva with a smaller Temple to his consort Parvati nearby. In contrast to Madurai where Meenakshi was put before Siva, here Siva was put before Parvati. In the inner sanctum was an enormous black stone lingam covered in garlands of flowers. It was a powerful site and reputedly the biggest in India. There was something vaguely terrifying about it - pitch black and enormous - but that wasn't unpleasant.

Prayers were offered to Ganesh and Parvati and we moved on, bumping into Sylvia and Harriet who had gone down to the Temple much earlier. They joined us and we carried on. At one point, as we all stood in a crowded, claustrophobic smaller shrine, Mr Rajan asked us if we wanted to know why Rama and Krishna were always blue while Siva was always red. He lit a match and cupping it in his hand asked us to look at the flame. Sure enough, the base of the flame was blue while the main body was red. It was wonderfully simple but revealed something so obvious it was amazing. Another step to demystifying the often confusing symbolism of Hinduism to the uneducated Western mind. It also revealed the Light-Worshipping origin of Hinduism, which once again united it with every other spirituality the world has ever known from Zoroastrianism to Christianity and everything else, even the legend of Prometheus...

Mr Rajan recommended that we come back at sunset to watch the Temple transform in the failing light. As he left us, we split up and wandered around the Temple for a while, drinking it in. It was magnificent. The atmosphere was proud and majestic. Another side to how India explores its spirituality and its past. The Cholas, the dynasty who built it and turned Tamil Nadu into a great nation, must have been an amazing people. As before, Thanjavur's Temple was built between the 11th and 14th Centuries, the same time as the great Holy Sites of the world were being built everywhere else.

I was tired so headed back to the hotel, but not before we had all had a meal in another eat-all-you-want-off-a-leaf-with-your-fingers-for-nothing restaurant Harriet and Sylvia had found. Once again it was delicious and the people serving there lovely, watching over us to make sure we enjoyed our meal. Afterwards we had a cup of chai in a street stall and went our separate ways. Harriet and Sylvia were off th next morning to check out some more Tamil Temple towns. We agreed that if we overlapped in Pondicherry we would try and hook up.

Walking around the night before and this afternoon with the other two had broken my continued nerves about walking around Indian towns on my own. Mumbai had freaked me out and Madikeri used to leave me feeling exposed and shaken, I am ashamed to say, so I tended to use rickshaws everywhere. Now I found myself striding around Thanjavur confidently, stopping into shops, recharging my phone, going to ATMs etc. It was great. I loved it. The vibe here is great and full of colour, with modern and ancient things overlapping - streets crowded with internet shops and choked with motorbikes and then a guy in a dhoti drinking chai with wood stacked on his head. I am embarrassed to say it has taken so long for me to feel I can do this now but I am not the only one from the West who feels shy of it. Everyone has their own stories and one of the women who visited the School admitted that she felt she always needed someone to hold her hand as she went anywhere.

All this bombing around is probably why I woke up feeling so exhausted today. But it was worth it for the feeling of exhiliration it gave me walking around. And the most special part was watching the sun set on the Temple...

SUNSET BIT

Welcome back all those comparative-religionophobes out there. Join us for the good bit.

As the evening was setting in I walked from the hotel after a brief siesta to the Temple. Following the map, I was astonished to find myself walking down a peaceful main road surrounded by beautiful trees and hills. The colours of the sunset were already transforming even the most urban surroundings around me into something poetic and magical. I could see the Temple Gopuras in the haze, looking extraordinary on the skyline. As I crossed the canal, passing a barracks full of unlikely looking soldiers doing their drill, I found myself at the gates and, taking off my shoes, went inside.

The atmosphere was wonderful. In the dusky light, everything seemed to be in a kind of slow motion with that strange quality of sound that time of day always takes on. As if the soul of the whole city was coming to rest, everyone seemed to be walking around calmly, sitting and chatting on the grass, relaxing after a hard day. There were a lot of families with their kids, a few school parties and even the Brahmins, who had looked bored and frustrated during the day, looked relaxed and happy. The Temple Elephant looked as if it was boogying in the sunset. I felt very calm and at ease. It was very serene.

As I walked around the complex watching the light change the stonework, bathing it in all sorts of wonderful colours - mauve, reds, yellows - all of which seemed to release a kind of exhalation of relief from the buildings. I was very happy. As the light faded and lights came on to illuminate the grounds, for the first time I could imagine suddenly how it must have been like 200, maybe 500, even 1000 years ago. It was like Time was merging into one, and I could see with my mind's eye the Cholas walking among the stone. I don't remember which set of Shamen it was (Mexican maybe?) who had said that Twilight and Sunrise were optimal times to communicate with the other world as the veil between us and the next was at its thinnest but I could well see what they meant. As in Cochin, it felt like the spirits of the past were walking with us.

It was a magical few hours, and I will be going back tonight for a repeat performance. Sylvia and Harriet appeared, having also taken Mr Rajan's advice. Mr Rajan himself appeared, delighted that we had. We were befriended by a woman from Delhi who was in Tamil Nadu to visit her Tamil husband's parents with their twin daughters. She offered us grapes and we chatted. She revealed that she taught Russian and Japanese (!!!) at a University in Delhi. When she discovered that Sylvia was French she commented that French was very hard to learn. Not more so than Japanese, we pointed out!

As the day ended, we went to another restaurant which was so dimly lit we needed torches to read the menu. But the food was delicious and the cold beer was welcome.

Today I woke feeling rough so took it easy (I later realised it was the uncomfy bed that was doing my limbs in!). I went up to the Palace where there is an amazing collection of Chola bronzes of different Gods and where I was mobbed by another group of smiling, laughing schoolchildren, this time wearing blue, who wanted to shake my hand and know my name. As I wandered around the statues I realised just how religious-minded the Cholas must have been and was struck by the fact that it was very easy to forget that these statues with their incredible beauty and precision didn't spring into being fully formed, but had someone behind them, lovingly creating them. I was also struck by how in all Hindu Temples and statues Goddesses always have enormous, almost surgically-enhanced boobs and were always topless (something that doesn't seem to be reproduced in the movies about them, strangely). Clearly eroticism was very much part of the vision of the sculptors and I was reminded of how this was the country of Krishna and the Gopis and the Kama Sutra. Indeed, on almost every Temple I have visited there have been whole freizes of sexual antics, from 'donkey-sex' in Tipu Sultan's fortress Temple to an image of Krishna up a tree with a group of naked Gopis beneath doing things that would make Pamela Anderson blush over the entrance of Thanjavur Temple. Perhaps this is another of the things that makes Hinduism so unique among world religions, its attempt to unite the world of the senses with that of the Spirit, unlike most spiritualities which seem so often to try to divide them, at least in their mainstream forms. And yet sexual modesty in women is actively encouraged in India with television and film censored and rather prudish. If you watch US channels in India, swearing and references to sex are edited out, even on subtitles, rendering whole chunks meaningless. They had Scorsese's CASINO on, for instance, in which, thanks to all the swear words being deleted, whole scenes passed by with everyone opening their mouths vigourously but not saying anything. Similarly in the movie KNOCKED UP, a rom com about a couple who end up falling in love after a one-night stand in which the women becomes pregnant the ten-minute sequence in which that actually happened was cut out entirely, making the whole thing incomprehensible.

Very interesting. And of course, we don't think of Indian women as 'covering up' because their saris are so utterly beautiful but in fact they are. You see very little flesh as you walk down the streets, but because of the beauty of the clothes and the natural elegance of the women you don't notice. And yet the Sari is designed for modesty, from the long sleeves and trousers to the sarong across the breasts to hide any contours. The big difference with Muslim women is, of course, that Hindu women don't have to cover their heads, leaving their beautiful, thick long hair exposed. Its nearly always tightly plaited, but still looks stunning and when an Indian woman has just washed her hair and is letting it dry, as you see by the streets every morning, the richness of it is stunning.

So lots of interesting contradictions (unlike our part of the world where we do everything right and there are no contradictions), all of which continue to make this country so wonderful and fascinating. I feel lucky to be here.

So, a quick look at the Temple at sunset then an early night. A complex trip to Pondicherry tomorrow with the next leg of the adventure. Wish me luck!