Yogic Diet

One of the best things about India is surely its cuisine.  I have been a vegetarian for a while now and have found it fairly easy to be one in Stockholm.  In India, there really seems to be no reason to eat anything but veg. The dishes are so varied, plentiful and rich in flavour, that the excuse of a vegetarian diet being "bland" just doesn't cut it.  My husband Andy who is an occasional meat aficionado has not had a craving for anything carnivorous since we have arrived two and a half weeks ago. 

Everything we choose off the menu (in most cases having no idea what we are ordering, as our Kannada is limited) is simply delicious.  The only question we repeatedly pose is : "Spicy? No Spicy, please". They smile expectedly.  But of course.  We are westerners, who will tear up from  "mild spicy" before we even get to swallow the first bite.

Despite the endless chances for culinary adventures, the amount I consume here is significantly less than in Sweden.  For the first time in my life I am really watching the clock when it comes to planning our meals.  Having the luxury to practise in Sweden at 8 or 9am, I have never had to think much about what time I should have my dinner.  Starting the practise at 6am, makes it fairly burdensome on the system with the previous night's dinner lingering on. The intense spinal twists will remind you of that everytime.

 It only took me a few days to tune into what my body needed in order for the vinaysas to flow just a bit more smoothly - empty stomach. Since  I arrived to Mysore, I have fallen into a habit of having lunch as the main meal of the day. For dinner I usually have fresh vegetables and fruit.  Somehow, the more yoga you practise, the more your focus becomes purely on quality and nutritional value of what you consume rather than quantity.

One of the reasons why we chose Anokhi Garden, the guest house that we stay at, was for their breakfast cafe. They prepare the most amazing ecological vegetarian and vegan morning delicacies, with a French twist, of course (the owners are two French ladies).  Vegan  pancakes, vegan crepes with hommade hummus, tomatoes and spinach, french toast, bruschetta, porridge with local bananas and cinnamon are just a few of the many delights.  Flora's fruit salad with papaya, watermelon, banana, dates, pomegrante, frech coconut shavings and fresh mint or basil is to die for!  A few lovely shakes with spirulina (blue-green algae, rich in nutrients and essential for vegan diet) and local fruits, as well as freshly squeezed juices are a must after an intense morning yoga routine.  And of course, masala coffe  - a divine blend of coffee, milk, cardamom and cinamon. 

Having devoured my breakfast, I am usually not hungry until 2 or 3 pm, at which point Andy and I ride the scooter over to one of our favorite spots in Gokulam. Many of them are simply people's homes that welcome hungry yogis providing not only fabulous home-cooked meals, but also authentic Indian family atmosphere. 

However, one of my favorite meals so far was a breakfast that my teacher Sheshadri and his wife served for us students after the morning practise last Friday.  I must admit, I cannot even start to identify what ingredients were in some dishes, but they were the most aromatic, savory combinations, packed with important proteins and adorned with fresh herbs and spices.  Bananas and papaya from Sheshadri's own garden as well as home made chai topped it all off.  All served with love.

Tomorrow, Andy and I will be going to Sheshadri's house where his wife will give us a cooking lesson, an experience I'm looking forward to.

The Beauty of Morning Practise

We live in a quiet area of Mysore, called Gokulam. Quiet in Indian terms, that is. The honking and the loud car, truck, scooter racing continues late into the night. Last night the usual traffic adventures were accompanied by a stray cat chorus which seemed to have rehearsed all major arias of Verdi's masterpieces, followed by the neighborhood dogs angrily dismissing the quality of the harmonies performed.  Not sure if it ever calmed down, or if my ears just got accustomed to it, but I seem to have dosed off towards midnight.  I kept on waking up throughout the night to a distant dog fight, or an occasional honking (who are they honking at!? - I am sure the street is absolutely empty) finally to give in and turn off my alarm at 4.25am. I was ready for the practise.

Morning is my favorite time of the day in Mysore.  As the four-legged inhabitants are taking a morning doser before their daliy activities will have to resume, the place seems to be totally quiet. Not even the scooter drivers passing me silently without their headlights (!) have the energy to honk. I walk about 500 meters to the coconut stand where I am picked up by a rickshaw and driven accross town to Lakshmipuram,  to Sheshadri's shala.  The ride takes about 15 minutes and as we bump along Mysore roads, I watch the city slowly awaken. 

The chai kiosks are boiling their famous wake-up elixir, the fruit and veggie stalls are being loaded with the day's offerings, the flower stands are being prepared for the fresh pickings of the day.  People, alone and in groups walk silently on the wide roads, heading to work, or just taking a morning stroll, who knows.  Cows are lazily moving about in search of their morning meal.

The students are to arrive about 30 minutes before we start the practise, so that everyone can settle in and take the time to mentally prepare for the practise. As I enter the shala, my teacher Sheshadri is always sitting in a deep meditation after having completed his own morning practise. He is totally motionless.  His son Hareesh sits on the opposite side of the room.

We quietly settle in and follow the lead. As I close my eyes, I listen to the birds outside the window.  A distant wake up call from a rooster.  Fresh air fills the room and light starts to slowly seap in.

Suddenly a quiet but powerful OM vibrates through the room, echoed by a heartful response from the group. And another OM, this time louder and stronger. And the last. We repeat. After a beautifully sounding Sanskrit chant, I have yet to decipher, Sheshadri leads the class throught the first few Sun Saltuations, the rest is up to us.

As I go through the yogic dance of saluting the raising sun, I can't help but feel that this is one of the most natural things to do,  float with the rhythms of nature, feeling as much a part of it as we humans are meant to be.   I don't feel sleepy, I don't feel tired, the sun has risen and I am ready to seize the day. 

 

Note: We recently asked Sheshadri why we are meant to practise early in the morning (besides the sun saluting ritual).  He explained that the energy in the early morning hours is most suited for yoga practise.The air has more oxygen and is cleaner and the mind is more calm and pure.

My Teacher Sheshadri

Sri V. Sheshadri belongs to a handful who have had the privilege to study with the founding father of modern yoga Tirumalai Krishnamacharya, as well as with Pattabhi Jois, BKS Iyengar and BNS Iyengar. Sheshadris' teaching style is very much "hands on" with students receiving plenty of adjustments, some of which can be quite intense. 

According to atmashaktiyoga.com, in his early yoga teaching years, Sheshandri "expanded his practice to include volunteer  teaching at a local school for blind children. It was here where having to rely mainly on touch to articulate the postures, he  developed the extraordinary teaching  style that he has become best known for."

Sheshadri teaches Mysore style only, with a led class about once a month.  Mysore style is a particular asana practise, where students go through their own assigned sequence at their own pace, while the teacher assists with physical adjustments and verbal ques, based on each student's individual level.

Besides being a phenomenal yoga teacher, Sheshadri, as he says, is a farmer. He has a large farm outside of Mysore where he grows anything from rice to bananas. A large part of the proceeds from his harvest goes as donation to the community.  His generousity and honesty in everyday life is very much apparent in his teaching, as he gives each class 110 percent.  He even gives adjustments in Savasana.  "Lay face down", he says and climbs on a students spine walking and pressing with his feet, cracking, adjusting, releasing, healing.

At the end of the class he sits outside the room and awaits students questions, or just engages in a friendly chat.

Tip:

As of 2007 Sheshadri has been teaching one month a year in Europe, usually France, Germany and Austria. This year he plans a visit in May, schedule to be confirmed.

Footnote:

By Fernando Pages Ruiz about Sri Krishnamacharya in Yoga Journal, 2001

"Whether you practice the dynamic series of Pattabhi Jois, the refined alignments of BKS Iyengar, the classical postures of Indra Devi, or the customized vinyasa [of Desikachar], your practice stems from one source: a five-foot, two-inch Brahmin born more than one hundred years ago in a small south Indian Village."

Flexible Spine - Flexible Mind

Sri V. Sheshadri adjusting

The alarm went off at 4.30 am, Mysore time. I have barely slept in my excitement. 

The plan was to meet up with some of Sheshadri's students at the famous coconut stand, where someone would pick me up and drive me to Sheshadri's shala. Precisely at 6am the practise started with a powerful OM and a Sanscrit chant I have not heard before.

Into my 3rd Sun Salutation I received Sheshadri's first adjustment. My downward dog has never felt better. The adjustments kept coming. Strong, precise, powerful, plentiful, and just amazing. Everytime I got an adjustment, I felt my body being molded, transformed, blockages released, channels opening. Even the breath seemed to be flowing more freely.

As intense as the adjustments were, I just instictively trusted this amazing yoga teacher and allowed him to lead my body where it was meant to go. By Janusirsasana A, I told myself: This is it. I have found my Guru.

The Incredible Journey Begins

Lesson One. When travelling to India, one should always have an open mind. Be ready for anything to fall into your lap. Let go of all preconcieved notions and fears. Let go of the lessons you heard others learn. Yours might just not be what you've expected.

Upon arriving to India for the very first time, I was prepared for the sights I have seen on TV, showing India's beauty, its incredible pace, and its sometimes confronting realities. It felt familiar to see stray starving dogs, freely strolling cows, heaps of people everywhere you turn, children running barefeet on harsh gravel roads, women carrying enormous loads of hay on their heads. My nose accepted the contrasts of smells - anything from the sweet Mysore Sandalwood to rottening piles of garbage and sewage. My ears were prepared for the constant honking of the cars, trucks, scooters and motorcycles that courteously "announced" themselves everytime they passed you.

What I was not prepared for was a change in my personal plans for India, which I have been developing for more than six months. The reason for my travel to Mysore was to study with the late Pattabhi Jois's grandson Sarath who runs "the shala" in Gokula district of Mysore. A day before I was meant to sign up for one month of yoga with KPJAYI, I was suggested to try out one of Mysore's less famous but equally respected Ashtanga Masters, Sheshadri. I was attracted to the idea that Sheshadri's class was strictly regulated when it came to its size, which meant more personal attention. Just one class, I thought.