Author: Narayan Kaudinya

The Grand Night of Shiva and A Day of Beautiful Meanings

Published by

The morning arrived. A big day. Like a loved one’s birthday. And everything was planned. Even the time calculated for leisure. But leisure comes at a price. Millions abstain from eating that day. Reason could be their own. Mine was to celebrate. I had already spoken to Pandit Ji, I will be spending the night at the temple and hence I was taking the day lightly. I ate Moong Halwa, whatever was left of it. And stepped out for a stroll outside, to see the clouds, to breathe a few times deeply. To spread se beans and chapatis for birds and a ferocious black dog with whom I shared a biscuit and since then we were best of friends. Nearby I found a trail and was looking for the stream following its sound, when a local woman standing on the roof of her home, located on the top of that cottage hill called me thrice in succession. She stood right up at an angle close to 90 degrees asked me again if she can come …

Silent Poems From My Ancestral Village; A Photographic Tribute

Published by

These images come from my village. Right here where my grandmother sits peeling potatoes, there i was born. But left within three months as I was told. The hand you see on the wall comes on Indian walls when a daughter leaves the house after marriage. This home also witnessed my earliest phase when I first started making photographs with our only family Kodak Film camera KB10. These are some of the Earliest images from my village home and probably the only time I could photograph my grandmother, peeling potatoes. Made in 2005. : ँ : Thank you. If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste : ँ : I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About me and importantly; As a co-traveller, will take you through the Ten Lessons I learnt from several years on the road, before you coarse on your own Road to Nara. Also read: Top 9 Most Read Posts of 2022 : ँ : You might also like to know about My Little School Project. If you wish …

A Short Visit to the Museum Of Almora; An Introduction to the Life and Struggle of Govind Ballabh Pant

Published by

The Museum was empty. If I ignore one woman sitting, scrolling through her facebook on phone. There was no one and nothing but the fragrance of hanging dank wood welcomed me. A feeling which comes just before entering a wormhole. Or the back side of a cinema, closed long ago. As I put first few steps walking parallel to the blue wall looking at the old, outdated, never cared for large sized prints of venerable Temples and this city; nostalgia started to evoke silent, irrelevant screams out of those bare prints.

Following Vivekananda; and How one Home Found me in Kasar Devi- Almora

Published by

The fourteenth night of the waning moon each month is special. But in the month of Falgun i.e. March, this 14th night is said to have an upsurge of Prana/energy in one’s system (also if one could sit still throughout night) that which even pulled Swami Vivekananda more than 130 years ago to this small little mountainous region called Almora. But more precisely to a place on the top of the Kashyapa hill known as Kasar Devi. A place or the temple structure dating back to 2nd century CE.

If Only Trees

Published by

The Devdar tree by the rockThe Fir and the Pinemust have its memories too:after a thousand years,see how its brancheslean towards the ground Only if I could get enoughaway from peoplewhere there was much more skyseen through the leaves abovemeeting trees from this and otherthan land,high risers. I see,by the day the grass is going brown or red in placesUnder the broad shadows of the Chinar treeSometimes now, here, everywhereI am talked to, is by silence Yet, IfI could only get closer to the lightwhere most of it is light. : ँ : Thank you. If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste : ँ : I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About me and importantly; Sharing some Lessons that awakened me while travelling Solo for Years on the Road, before you coarse on your own Road to Nara. You might also love to know about My Little School : ँ : I will appreciate all your support; your words or any contributions you might like to make towards …

But Love, and Other Poems

Published by

Just for a moment,sit down and be with yourself. Close your eyes and thinkhow short is our life on earth.   Is it worth fighting at all?internally or externally! In this short life span where time takes us on roller coasters,would you like to be happy or ? Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.Shoot the Mango! Because its summers. Because medical science has made such tremendous Progress,said Huxley, that there is hardly a healthy human left. Aren’t we all going to die, all of us,that alone should make us love, but it hasn’t. People are strange; But Lovebecause that would mean total Acceptance Of yourself.along with all your weaknesses and Strengths. But Love,because hard things must be told simply. But Love,because the mind must be taught, to keep out of it.  Else the mind will involve the Fate.and the Fate, it is known controls only the weak. But Love,because it is the spirit of the strong. and it is the strong who mould the Providence they want. : ँ : Thank you. If today is the first time …

Namaste to the Sun: An Ancient Yogic Way to Glow from Within

Published by

I had gone to my old Yoga school on a long walk. Not to meet anyone but to eat fruits. From an elderly woman who has been sitting outside Yoga centre ever since, with a fruit basket. “Mango aren’t yet sweet, I was about to tell her”, when she introduced me to a police man sitting beside, telling him that I am a Yoga Teacher. I finished my fruit Salad. About to leave when he requested me to come near and asked in a hushed voice, what to do when your face is darkening? Quiet. I wanted to hear more. It is my wife, she is also gaining a lot of weight. She isn’t old. 47 Years. What to do? Hearing these two queries took my intuition and understanding towards the Source; The Sun. And Since the Origin of Yoga is centered around and incipiently with worshipping the Sun, I started with telling him about how human civilisation and life actually started around Fire, and fire worship in form of the Sun on Earth, i …

The Last Journey to Ganga and Scenes from my Ancestral Village : A Photographic Essay

Published by

Visiting Grand Parents used to be the only time when the Joy of having many umbrellas multiplied the possibilities of games, laughter and Humour. But one day without any knock, or warning grandmother died an exceptionally unusual death. All those years the perception that I carried of association, I could never feel it again towards my birth home, my birth courtyard, after grandmother was gone. No sense of belonging. My village had started to look congested. May be that was why parents must have left it. In 1982. On the mud terrace of our ancestral home, fragrance of cow-dung cakes still brings to my mind the nostalgia of my grandmother cleaning the courtyard every morning. Even before the sun would rise; while telling me with love to keep sleeping. Upla* are still used for cooking and cleaning. And just last week were also used for lighting the pyre of my uncle. Father’s eldest brother. Death of a family pillar changes a lot of dimension. For one It brings overwhelming, repulsive, abominable silence in homes. I …

The Pond of Saraswati and Meeting With the Brahma Kamal : Nara on a four day trek to Kalpeshwar Rudranath : V

Published by

Continuing from FINDING Brahma Kamal: The Divine Flower Seat of Brahma: Nara on a four day trek to Rudranath : IV and The Quest for the Brahma Kamal : On a Rainy night from Delhi to Chamoli : I Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal : The Nights of Change in the Himalayas : II Days in the Hidden Valley of Mandal and a Small trek to Ma Anusuyadevi Temple : III : ँ : I woke up and saw two Golden Eagles, hovering above me. But my first thought were not the eagles in the sky but the leeches, what if they were dining on my hard earned blood all night! It was fine. One thing that I made peace with since my teaching days in the Karakoram Mountains was the sleeping bag. Travellers start keeping their Heart in there pockets when there is no coming back home; because their life becomes a home itself. It was a dawn to remember. Cloudless blue skies on a monsoon morning are rare at this altitude. But the wind …

FINDING Brahma Kamal: The Divine Flower Seat of Brahma: Nara on a four day trek to Rudranath – IV

Published by

They say, “once you decide what you really want, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” Only in my dream I once imagined myself walking towards one Brahma Kamal in the Higher reaches of the Himalayas, and today it was happening. Continuing from Days in the Hidden Valley of Mandal and a Small trek to Ma Anusuyadevi Temple : III Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal : The Nights of Change in the Himalayas : II and Finding Brahma Kamal : On a Rainy night from Delhi to Chamoli : I : ँ : It wasn’t easy to get Pluto to walk. Not because he did not want to, but he had Bhalu and Monkey, two dogs to feed. The play of life is such, that in first place I wasn’t even coming towards Gopeshwar to find my Divine Lotus; I was only going to the valley of Flowers. But Pluto’s presence in the valley nearby bum-steered my belief for a friend’s company. Somehow, ever since I have known Sumanto, and it’s been …

Turiya and Ramakrishna: The Science of Breathing

Published by

The first act of Life as soon as we come out of mother’s womb is, we inhale. Maharaj Ji asked me to sit straight and take one deep breath, in a voice that demanded attention. I held it for 10 seconds, as he continued, and the last act of life is, we exhale; that is it. Leave the breath through your mouth. We inhale and we start crying. When we exhale, we make others cry. Between these two, a whole life is lived and one must take a deeper and a closer look at our lives. Because however our life is, the most important thing we unfortunately learn to ignore is, our breath. Also Read: Food and the World on a New Yogi’s Mind Maharaj Ji was making a Yantra with red vermillion, on an old bhojpatra paper as he casually started telling me a tale of essence about being. This was way back in 2014, around when we were travelling right towards the centre of India, to Ujjain. But had to take a detour …

A Park in the Forest: A short Walk in the Jungles of Almora

Published by

The last descent of the sun, unlike the day, feels leaving us the fastest. And how each day then once consumed, becomes thought of the night. Turning into complexly connected dreams in sleep. Each moment. Every missed yes, becomes only a memory once its gone and done with. Deep in the valley of Almora, there is a temple hidden in the oasis of many layers of devdars called Chitai Mata Temple or the Golu Devta Temple. On a cold morning when i decided to walk through the jungle of celestial trees, i didn’t know that i will never reach there. Not because villagers told me it was far. Or because i got frightened as villagers tried to stop me for the tiger might find me alone. To tell you, this the story of every mountain. For each valley you will visit, you will find one fearless man telling you to fear. For a tiger or two, or certainly a bear might arrive. And as always. I left. But as I left to not reach, i …

How Pandemic changed the Reality for Children? Corona Diaries from School

Published by

Its been over three weeks since our small school opened. Two years later; Seeing things coming close to a world more open, towards unafraid times again is nothing less than grace from nature. A whole generation has changed the way it socializes and even less. We now have more close friends and acquaintances online than any generation ever had. Life, material living has changed for the world, yet we are trying to get back to what felt natural. But the world of kids that saw this Pandemic in their youngest, most vulnerable years has transformed the future that is coming for them. Almost every kid I met recently was a lion at home but a goat amongst other goats. Pandemic took their freedom. And if not their bodies, their souls know the jail they were in. The fear that oozed from each human silently, projected on a world stage, afraid parents for their children, for themselves, for their family’s future together. Nations and many a leaders were not ready for this and some could not …

Brahma Calls To Pushkar: Travelling with Parents to Man Mahal and other stories

Published by

Something unlikely happened in February. I wrote a letter for the first time, to send it far away; away across the seven seas wishing someone love, birthday wishes and health. And subtly felt that I should start doing it more often. Through writing at least, making unknown known, to the people who are close but far, sending Postcards to you. As it would be great to support our age old Letter/Postal services to keep working in this digital world.  As it was also the birth month of my Mother. I kept planning that my parent’s travel, somewhere they had never been to. More so when they are more like Pilgrims than tourists, so wherever they can find a calling connection with the local lord, a deity of a city, a region; they go there happily. And that high of happiness had eluded them for the longest time. Much before the Virus locked our gates. The orders had come to open the schools. Ma and I had already started planning the opening of our school. We …

Last Few Days of Winter from my friend Rinku’s Home, in Naggar- Himalayas: A Photo-Story

Published by

You know I love Delhi for its years old rich history, but more often than less, it has only been a pass for me towards the mountains. I love the Himalayas more. And in last one decade and half, I have found myself reaching to Naggar than anywhere else. It may also be how this quaint small village found me finding. Also Read: Birdsong- the first poem i wrote after reaching Naggar In 2007, while riding my bike from Delhi, looking for a place to stay for the night, each person i asked from directed me towards Naggar. Nagar in Hindi simply means a ‘city’, or so i thought that once i reach the city i will find a place. But the altitude kept getting higher as i rode in the night getting skeptical of ever reaching any so called ‘city’. But when I finally reached there, the first thing my senses noticed was the fragrance of Devdar trees. It was dark in the night and cricket sang the song of the moon. There were …

The Curse of A Tale: And Why each mother should make her child first, a storyteller?

Published by

Sound is important. Anyone who takes on a story takes on the responsibility of passing it on. A.K Ramanujan, an Indian Poet and Folklorist wrote in the preface to his book Folktales from India, “Stories and words not only have weight; they also have wills and rages, and they can take different shapes and exact revenge against a person who doesn’t tell them and release them into the world. They are there before any particular teller tells them; stories hate it when they are not passed on to others, for they can come into being again and again only in that act of translation. If you know a tale, any tale; you owe it not only to others but to the tale itself to tell it; otherwise it suffocates. Traditions have to be kept in good repair, transmitted, or else, beware, such tales seem to say, things will happen to you. You can’t hoard them.” He then tells of a Kondh tribal who possessed four stories which he was too lazy to repeat. One night, …

Lore of the Light: A Brief History of Nine Planets in India- ४

Published by

It was a short journey and my first to Ujjain in Central India. The city of time itself. I was almost strolling when on the ghats of Shipra river I met a sage sitting alone but not alone. He looked strangely wild and attractive, focused. He was arranging his stones, picking them carefully as if they were beings and putting them in an unusual order, only after looking for many a seconds towards the sky. Curious, i had many questions to ask. And i did. This conversation was recorded thus and is presented like every story must. Also read: Turiya and Ramakrishna: Who are you? Q. What is your name?A. Narayan. Waah, Narayan! okay Narayan, Listen carefully. I will start from the start. Vedas, India’s four ancient sacred book-length accumulations of living wisdom. The oldest literature in the history of mankind. Since the last standardisation of the vedas, dozens of centuries ago, these hymns have been flawlessly preserved, syllable for syllable and word for word, by their priestly keepers. The hymns of the vedas were …

Life Of Verrier Elwin: Past and the Present Of the Tribal Cultures In Central India: A Photo-ethnographic Essay

Published by

Elwin’s research work in India took place at a critical period leading up to the Indian Independence from British rule. Verrier Elwin first met Mahatma Gandhi in 1928 at his ashram in Ahmedabad, where he had gone to represent the Christa Seva Sangh at the International Fellowship of Religions. Gandhi’s philosophy of satyagrah  as non-violent resistance against the colonial rule had a strong impact on Elwin and he were drawn into the national movement for Independence. However, as he became more deeply involved in the welfare of the community that he lived with, in central India, he began to question the relevance of Gandhi’s severe views on prohibition, celibacy and vegetarianism for that environment. In his autobiography he wrote. “long letter from Mahatma Gandhi urging me to perform daily yagna or sacrifice, of spinning; as no one here for hundreds of miles has ever seen a spinning wheel, decide not to, but suggest rice pudding as a daily sacrifice instead. Elwin’s personal reassertion of loyalty and identity was unequivocal. At a time when most of …

Leaves from a Jungle: The Life of Verrier Elwin living with the Gonds in Central India – I/II

Published by

My co-travellers here on the Road to Nara, must already know and have experienced by now how much there is to absorb in India that is Bharat. Every state works like an organ. Each region in contrast to the other in food, language yet somehow bonded by sense and tradition. In my brief career as a traveller, I have desired not just to travel as much, but also to learn, research and document life of other travellers who once walked and measured this nation in a different light, time and dimension. The ones who somehow recorded the flow that once was; those happenings which can only be dreamt of today but can never again be touched. Also Read: How Jyoti Bhatt inspired the new age Travellers and Documentarians with his life? I was an NCC(National Cadet Corps, youth wing of Indian Armed Forces) Cadet during my university years and had a brief opportunity to rigorously walk throughout the Central Indian State of India, Madhya Pradesh for over a month. During one such walk on a …

Home and the World : Walking around New Delhi and Old in January ’22

Published by

Even though every day, slowly months and years seem to pass as fast as they arrive; January is special because first so much celebration already happens even before it arrives that half of it leaves while many still living hungover or in the previous year. Yet for me it was bringing some change that i could experientially notice, and drastic at that. Father had a near death experience so much that one night sleeping outside Hospital, in the boot of a car made me succumb to the emotions of not having a father anymore. Those five hospital days were special in a strange and new kind of way. Father eventually came back strongly, and is on his way to retain good health. But still something changed in me. Probably the essence of time. How so much is often so little. Hence January had to be celebrated, in the only few way i can. Working, walking, writing better. Ever since the seed of working on Delhi’s past and present has yielded, i had been moving around …

Have a Little Faith: 5 things to Achieve by the Year end.

Published by

I am writing. I have been writing. And even though I was away from Road to Nara, I kept writing on paper. I kept remembering everyone here. And it is now after thirty days of thirst, i finally opened this dying computer. How have you been? How is everyone doing? Please do tell me. Say it out loud. I will be very happy to read from each one of my co-traveller here. It is true that once the rhythm breaks, whoever you might be and whatever you do, life presides over. Life consumes even that time which once was someone’s. Like mine was for the Road to Nara. I tried to write on the 16th of this month and then on 26th but it took my might to break this monotony. Truth be told that there is no going far away from here. I missed writing here. I missed sharing here. Because words are as important as the ones reading them. Because these days, these months, this year is very important. And i would like …

THE ORIGIN : Thank you all my co-travellers. The Foundation of a Happy Life- Last Post of 2021

Published by

I have been talking to myself ever since I remember. And having a photographic memory I remember myself well; doing, playing, observing being as young as 1 year old, i remember a lot of things. And this listening, seeing, ultra observing of actions, reactions, relating, co-relating, correcting them, learning from what didn’t go right, or what did, the tone and sounds in a language, feelings; I am always well aware of each happening, every vibration that I receive or give. It is pure grace, a blessing. Namaste. Another blessing had been this blog, Road to Nara : My travels as a Yogi and the family that it has provided me. Each and every soul of you. To tell you, It has saved me from something, I do not know what but very important something. I even did not know till now that I could sustain writing, or that I can write this much. Road to Nara became my road to come back to myself, so many memories I have lived in my lifetime, so many …