RIP—The cooker is Dead.

As I sit here in the early morning dark in the garden, the only place that I have Internet access, I am immersed in the smoke of the incense that I have burning as a mosquito deterrent. The temple across the street is ringing a bell and people are chanting their morning prayers. A few rickshaws drive by and the crows crow their morning song.  The electricity just turned off and now I sit by the light of the moon as a cart rolls by outside the gate.

I reflect upon the astounding vibrancy of life, here in India. We are all so truly blessed.

I am so grateful for this opportunity to learn. During the morning practice sessions, watching others, especially the long-time Indian students, I learn the most so far as new tricks of the trade, new and interesting ways of doing the poses. What I learn from my own practice is even more relevant. At the moment, I’m focusing on quietly maintaining the breath, keeping my upper lip soft and relaxing my facial muscles. When I look around the room, I notice that many of the Western practitioners especially, look so serious and seem to be facing their practice with a stiff upper lip. The faces of the Indians remain soft with full soft lips. Cultivating this softness as well as a sense of well-being, even joy for finding the freedom of the breath, I certainly notice how the more the challenging the asana, the more challenging this relaxed state is for me.

I came home from the practice session yesterday to find the clay pot cooker on my kitchen countertop. Always the optimist, I thought “Wow! They’ve fixed it quickly” though in the back of mind I knew that this was highly unlikely. I plugged it in. Nothing. Not even a glimmer of any kind of pulse. Dead. Oh well…the best laid plans……

Our afternoons are entirely our own. Having accidentally left my nice shades in New Mexico, a few days ago I decided I simply could not continue living without sunglasses. The search for sunglasses began. First I found a fancy spec shop, where they tried to convince me to purchase some very nice shades. In India, it would appear that the predominant style is graduated tint, meaning its dark on top and light on the bottom. I prefer one solid shade. Next, I found a pair of dark brown shades sold on the street for about $3---this was more my style and I barely haggled at all for the purchase. As I continued my journey on that day, I noticed that in fact these glasses were sooo bad that they made it almost more difficult to see. If I’ve found one truth in life, it would have to be “good shades, good shoes, and a good dentist are essential.” The second truth I’ve found, which may very well be applicable only to me: “the more you spend on shades, the less likely you are to lose them”. The Universe works in mysterious ways….these cheap glasses lasted not one day, before they disappeared. Vanished. No idea where I left them. Oh well.

Yesterday I began the search once again for shades. While traveling either by foot or rickshaw in Pune can be extremely interesting, the black cloud of diesel fumes that hover in the streets turning your snot instantly black (and this is if you’re covering your nose with a scarf) has a limited appeal for me. Thus in the name of ease and proximity, I ventured into the horrific mall across the street from the Institute looking for sunglasses. This mall is very new, very clean and the equivalent to a nice Bloomingdale’s in the States. You walk in, through the metal detector, the laptops are to your right, the Benetton section, the Tommy Hilfiger section, etc, etc. all line the edges, then there’s the digital camera section, the expensive perfumes, the jewelry, and yes, the sunglasses on display. I approached a nice young woman for assistance. Before you know it, I have no less than 20 young people handing me sunglasses of all shapes and sizes. I really wonder how the shop affords to pay all these people or if these people are somehow paid by commission? It’s a mystery. Of course I like the sunglasses that are about $50, but settle on a pair for about $30. I hope that these might stick with me longer than the previous pair!

The Iyengars have gone to a wedding for the next few days. Laxmi, one of my favorite Indian teachers, substituted our evening class. I was front row center. Our sequence was this: child’s pose, downward dog, Uttanasana, Prasarita Padottanasana (5 min) Sirsasana, Eka Pada Sirsasana, Parsva Eka Pada Sirsasana (10 minutes for cycle), Salamba Sarvangasana, Eka Pada Sarvangasana, Parsva Eka Pada Sarvangasana, Halasana (10-15 minutes for cycle), Utthita Trikonasana (twice on both sides), Virabhadrasana II, Utthita Parsvokanasana, Virabhadrasana I, Utkatasana, Baddha Konasana keeping heels together and tops of feet apart, Upavistha Konasana, Baddha Konasana, Virabhadrasana III, Setu Bandha Sarvangasana, Savasana.

Blessings to you all.