All posts filed under: Turiya and Ramakrishna: Conversations around self- A Photo Book

A Brief History of Ancient Temples in India: The Secrets are in the conversation- ३

I had just arrived from visiting a temple in Uttarkashi with my Guruji in Uttarakhand. He is from the state and well versed in the ways of temple building and understanding the energy that a lingam or an idol holds. He wanted to meet an old friend of his and asked me to come along, just like that and we went. It was a day’s journey, quiet long. He did not enter the temple, not even once but asked me to be here at the complex till he comes back. I do not know how long it must have taken him to come back but there, in that sphere of Uttarkashi temple, this lingam as I entered just wrapped and bounded me to sit. It was bursting with energy. 3000 years old, and it is like it was done yesterday, exuberating with such intensity that you don’t want to do anything but just straighten your spine and sit. It was something I had never forgotten. And travelling to Uttarakhand last month brought back this memory …

Turiya and RamaKrishna: Who Are You?- ११

Nara commentates … First called is Svante, alittle five year old sannyas aspirant, and subodhi, his mother. Ramakrishna tells him to shut his eyes which he does, instantly, with full obedience, tight and very still, the little pouches strainingto do just right. His knees are held bytwo chubby-small intentful hands. We all lookwith breathless stillnesssurrounding an open rose as the little swami emerges, Love, Little Anando.  : ँ :Last seven days were work but nights kept leading me to the milk mountains. Full moon i.e the sharad purnima of October, kept revealing magic on one condition. That I must not close my eyes.  If I observe a graph of my inner self, it has been nothing less than hydrogen working its way towards the biggest star. Slowly but so intense, that being a writer becomes a curse because I cannot explain it.  : ँ : In Omkareshwar, a few years ago, on the banks of the river Narmada. A register found me; a life of a french yogi documented in images glued on its thin white pages. It was a real treat. Because they were not mere photographs, but codes, Sri Yantras, …

Yogmaya – १

It was sudden. A day of change. Something shifted. Paradigm. Light. Its been months that I had known where to look yet It took time to find. Because it had already found me. It was in my hands and sooner I became it. In my search for the permanent, in this land which once was ruled by the snakes. Forest. In the name itself, energy resides. I reached Yogmaya. After months, without telling even my own self. The moment that child arrived I packed my bag, took my documents, opened the door and started walking towards her. As if she called on the eve of her birth night. It was five thousand and sixty eight hundred years ago. 5068.  From today starts Nine days of Worshipping the mother. How will you do it?I will take the help of Fire.    When she calls, the time subsides. Last evening, I was brimming with energy. I passed through the mausoleum and Mehrauli felt like a foreign country. It had been long I thought i was looking, rather …