News from India
Feb 7, 2006
I have the opportunity for observing Prashant's classes (his meet in the morning on Mon, Tues, Thurs & Sat and Tues night, while Geeta's meet Mon, Thurs and Fri evening and Wed and Sat morning) and have watched a couple of complete classes and parts of some. His style is very different from Geeta's. He is less focused on the specific points in asana, although he expects the students to know them. His classes are aimed at getting us to experience the asanas from different points of view; learning how these points of view have different effects on both the asana and our minds. I am eager for Tues night when I am assigned to his class. These is something that can only be understood in a vague way while watching a class; it must be experienced for real understanding.
One of Prashant's main points is that we go on "doing, doing, doing" and are never there. There must come a time when we arrive, at whatever place that is. Yesterday Geeta made the same point in a different way. It was another standing pose class and at one point we spent a good long time on urdhva hastasana, so long that everyone was struggling. Then we went on to other things but used what knowledge we had collected in urdhva hastasana for the subsequent poses. At the end of class, she was talking about how it was necessary to repeat and to hold the poses for the knowledge to penetrate; to do, observe the result, change and re-do. But we should also observe the mind and how it has changed in the last moments before "finishing" the asana. So often we practice just to have practiced and never take that last step.
The last class of the week is Sat morning and after it we are free until Monday. Time for shopping and exploring! Most shops close in the early afternoon, so Lynlee, Karen and I planned to go home to eat and rest a little then go shopping. We had arranged with Nana, a great, English speaking rickshaw driver to meet us at 3:30. Nana is very reliable and reachable, I emailed him from Ann Arbor before I left, and he was expecting our call. We can contact him on his cell phone anytime and he will come, take us where we want and then wait to take us on or home. It is a wonderful luxury not to wonder if we are going to have a driver who has no clue what we are trying to tell him. There are something like 5 million people in Pune and it is not always easy to get around.
This is Karen's first trip to Pune, and Lynlee and I feel it is our sacred duty to introduce her into the art of shopping here. I don't know whether it is more fun to go shopping or go along and help talk someone else into buying. The exchange rate is about 42Rs to $1 and there are some very good bargains. Also, the light weight Indian cottton clothes are very comfortable and fun to wear. Our first stop was a place called Fabindia. It sells ready made cotton clothes, much of it India style, but an updated, modern version, and also some Western-type pull on pants or skirts and shirts. After that, we were off to Wonderland on MG road. It is impossible to describe Wonderland except to say that it was called a mall back when I first came to Pune in 1988, and it had been here for a while before that. It is two parallel corridors running between two busy streets with small shops on both sides of each corridor, much like the Nichols Arcade that runs between State St and Maynard. The streets are full of cars, trucks, ,motorcycles, bicycles, and rickshaws and nearly impossible to cross on foot.
In Wonderland there is a Kashmiri shop run by an older man and his son who always remember me. I once bought a carpet from them, plus many small souveners and some shawls. They even remembered my daughter's name from a visit here about 7 years ago. We mostly looked, but Karen bought some scarves in my Kashmiri shop and a great satchtel from a favorite handbag shop.
We finished the evening at Dorabjees, an incredible grocery store where you can get many western foods; tofu, cold cuts!, western cheese, even Ragu, as well as Indian staples. We buy fruit from the sellers who push their wooden carts around the neighborhood or have permanent places along the road. If I knew more about the local vegetables I would buy them, but for now the woman who cooks for me picks them out.
The main problem with shopping is that most places are across town. The rickshaw ride is an ordeal because of the pollution (thank you Sally for researching the mask I wear), noise, and a very bumpy ride. The sights and sounds are fascinating, but the whole experience always wears me out. My quiet flat and warmed up left overs are an oasis to come home to.