Why this Journey

It’s been two years since I took off on my dream journey – backpacking along the Indian coastline, solo woman traveller. Three months of 'wandering' . It's been an incredible journey. In some ways, the journey continues.

A journey is a metaphor for seeking. We go to a place because we believe it will reveal something of extraordinary importance. In one of her talks Gurumayi says, “Think of a place you've always wanted to go to. Does one name jump to mind. Why? Because you think it will reveal something important to you. In the same way, you came on this planet out of your own choice. Whether you believe it or not, this is a choice you made.”

So that is really interesting – life as a journey; the destination we choose for a specific purpose. Every part of the journey, then – good, bad, indifferent – begins to have a purpose. I believe it will reveal something significant.

That seems like a good starting point. I’m a travel junkie. There is something very free-ing about travel. It teaches detachment. What must I leave behind, what must I carry with me. What's truly important. There has to be a reason why monks of all traditions travel. It has to be with opening our minds to different ways of being .

Understanding people, exploring cultures, opens the mind like few things else. Travel is a completely sensory experience bringing alive all parts of our being. To see, smell, feel, hear all that is unfamiliar sharpens the senses. The mind and heart get equal exercise, not to mention the legs.

I knew my path would be along the sea. I love water and I love the sea. Nothing quite like standing on a seashore looking at the infinity in front. And it had to be India, of that there was no doubt. As a former journalist now working on development communication, India intrigues me. So much diversity in every sense of the word – races, religions, languages, ecosystems – yet something extraordinary that binds us together. I am out to try and explore that.

Exploring where we come from is an extension of exploring who we are. As I understand my land and my region I also seek to understand my own self. That makes me a seeker, a musafir, a pilgrim traveler.

We are a society in transition. So much has changed so fast in India over the last decade. We are setting world standards, and yet the gap is widening like never before. There is so much inspiration around in the work of young musicians and sportspersons, and business leaders and social activists. In Bangalore, I am impressed with the Infosys story – ‘powered by intellect, driven by values’ as they call themselves. Today’s wealthiest people have created wealth based on knowledge. They are giving back to society many times over. The picture contrasts in a Kanpur suburb: Industries have collapsed, people are jobless, crime rate is high, there is little respect for law and order. Sitting in suburban Kanpur in a temporary mud shelter in the mid-day sun with a group of adolescent girls and women, surrounded by more flies than I have seen ever, I cannot understand why it must be like this. What makes some of us build institutions that set new world standards, what makes some of us so complacent and indifferent and dream-less. As I watch a senior bureaucrat in Kanpur spend an afternoon in office waxing eloquent on the culinary skills in Nawab Wajid Ali Shah’s kitchen to an audience, I get a clue: The leader’s will determines the change.

It’s a period of change. Hence the urge strong as never before to understand the complex fabric of our land: The past that shapes us, the present that determines who we are. Across the many Indias that co-exist, what are the enduring symbols? As I travel across India I seek to understand who we are as a people and a nation: What makes us different, what binds us together, who are we? As an oped writer pointed out: ‘Mature nations like mature people know their strengths and weaknesses.’

To go along the coast would mean an opportunity to watch the sea in its various moods and colours. I would traverse through nine States and at least two union territories. My chance to explore the rich variety of cultures – food, textile, language, religion – and of course the varied topography from marshland to desert to backwaters.

The Romans and Arabs came to these shores as early as the first century BC. The Portuguese, Dutch, French, British have come via the seas, as did Mahmud of Ghazni over a thousand years ago. From Kolkata to Pondicherry and Goa, the Europeans traded, invaded, converted, ruled, changing the face of not just the peninsular but all of India. Here’s my chance to understand so much of history and its impact on present-day life. A student on a self- education trip, I must carry with me the curiosity of my four-year-old nephew. Not for anything Pico Iyer has written – every traveler is a child, every child a traveler.

The sea and merging waters also become a symbol of One World. The sea unites us; waters have no barriers. A year after the tsunami, I want to understand how people living by the sea relate to it. The sea is definitely a feminine power – it creates, sustains, and nurtures a million life forms. Abused by men day after day, the sea bears it all, constantly renewing itself. And yet, surely a time will come when it will, like the much-abused tolerant woman, fight back. When that happens it is with a power that is unprecedented.

Much as the tsunami was a reminder of nature’s power, it also made us wonder if this is nature’s wrath at a world and people gone very wrong. In times of suicide bombers and aborted female fetuses, it was as though as the earth’s core shook, it shook us all, throwing a million questions – why do disasters such as these happen, is the earth trying to tell us something and if so what. Laws of physics are universal – every action must have an equal and opposite reaction. The sea is truly the ‘athah sagar’ – boundless ocean of story and mystery.

One September morning as I sit in my office in New Delhi trying to grapple with ‘how women in rural Madhya Pradesh can know their risk to HIV/AIDS and protect themselves from it’, it suddenly dawns on me it’s time to sail away. For six years I have worked in a nonprofit media and communication research organization. It has helped me see human poverty and misery at close quarters. Working on HIV/AIDS issues – gender, public health, violence, sexuality, drug use – has helped me interact with a range of communities across India as well as get a global perspective. Suddenly, I feel I must leave – a call so urgent as though it is now or never. Maybe it’s the mid-30s blues. And so, seven years after the idea first took form while traveling on the East Coast Road from Villupuram to Chennai, I finally have the courage to quit, pack my bags and sail forth on the journey of my dreams along the Indian coast.

As I travel, given the foodie I am, food becomes my lens into understanding culture. The smell, taste, sizzle of street food in particular seems to hold the key to knowing a place. As a student of Siddha Yoga philosophy and culture, spirituality becomes my second lens. Travel gives me the chance to 'be the scientist' as Gurumayi says and 'experiment' with the teachings. It’s reassuring to know that teachings and wisdom light my path, friends and fellow seekers are dotted all across the country. So my second lens is spirituality, religion, yoga. To be the pilgrim traveller in land of yoga -- what could be better than that. My chance to discover the wealth of centuries of seeking.

I will be travelling alone. I don’t know any other way. It makes us so much more freer. Friends and family suggest I travel with somebody but I just shrug it off. I have a broad plan and route of journey, an estimated time and budget, some phone numbers of friends along the way. Two cell phones and two credit cards. Lonely Planet. Books by my Gurus which I will be studying like textbooks.

Needless to say, as much as this is a journey without it is also a journey within. At 34 and single, so many questions in my mind. Should I be getting married, do I want to remain single. What is my vocation. After dabbling in different things, time to take stock and find my true vocation. Where do I want to live. With whom? So in a way this is something like ‘throw everything up in the air and something will come of it’ syndrome. Let's see what happens. Travel allows us to Transcend -- gain a larger perspective.

I have no fixed agenda. Just a fixation – to be present in the moment, guided by the spirit, take off in whatever direction I please, learn, understand, explore. The plan is to fly to Kolkata, go down the east coast to Kanyakumari and up the west coast to Dwarka – a journey by the peninsular much like a parikrama.

All great journeys begin at the feet of Bhagwan Nityananda, I hear, so first, I head off to Ganeshpuri, a small village close to Mumbai. To be in front of the idol in the Temple is to know the deep silence within and without. Then, to Lucknow, to meet my Dad. Much empowered by the wishes and blessings of friends and family I fly to Kolkata on the evening of my 34th birthday. It is the day of ashtmi, Saraswati puja – couldn’t be a better day to embark on this journey. I am happy and excited. There is ‘wonder in most everything I see…’ The occasion is pregnant with infinite possibilities. For the first time, I get to be a backpacker/ wanderer out to research something I am interested in, apply the tools and learnings I have studied these last few years: The world becomes my textbook.

I'm excited as can be.