Me and my self;

A Spiritual Journey

Dr.Satyabrata Rout (India)

Chapter-2

Continuation of Ch-1

……………..Just before the dawn I got up from my bed and came out of my room to see where I am! It was going to be morning.. Rain had stopped from the mid night but there were dense cloud in the sky. I looked around. The hotel main gate was still locked and nobody woke up from their bed. I planned to have a walk around inside the hotel. It was a huge old colonial building nicely maintained with antique design and furniture, fireplaces and an old piano kept at one corner of the lobby with plants, flowers and tree all around. The narrow path inside the hotel was built with stones which lead to different rooms. I looked up to see the age old style of colonial roof which was built by terracotta tiles. I liked the atmosphere. In the mean time the hotel boy has opened the main gate and I left for a morning walk. Villa de Leyva is one of the oldest colonial town established by the Spanish conquerors during 16^th- 17^th Century. As I walk down the streets, I saw houses on both sides of the roads on straight row. They were continued till I can see and meet at a point which reminded me of perspective. The valley was surrounded with mountains all around. By the time the sun was coming up the mountain peaks. The old street was signing with the rays of the morning sun. I saw of people walking down the streets. A few numbers of shops were just opened and the shop owners were arranging their goods for sale. Some people were waiting outside the cafeteria for a cup of tea or coffee. A group of small kids in uniform crossed me and ran away. Perhaps they were going to their schools. I saw one or two people riding horses passed by my side. People were started going to their different works… I walked down straight to the market squire. It was an old complex perhaps situated at the centre of villa de leyva. All the street roads lead towards the squire. But the market was not opened so early. I didn’t try to go further as I might lose the way, so I returned back to my hotel. It was seven o’ clock by then and I searched the hotel boy for a cup of tea. After getting fresh I sat with my computer and surf in the internet. It was evening in India and many of my friends there were connected through net. I started chatting with some of them especially with my son whom I was missing at every moment. I talked to my wife. I asked her about my dog Polli who must me missing me like anything. My wife was worried about my lost baggage. She has packed some new dresses for me and a brand new pair of shoes in the luggage. That was her matter of concern. I came to know from her that the day I left my son didn’t even open his study book. Every time he glued with computer or television. She told me to write a letter to him making him convinced that this is his final board examination year. So I mailed a strong letter to him. I was very much hungry by then but waited for Beatriz to come.

About 10 am Beatriz Camargo came to the hotel. As I didn’t have much interaction with her I just say hallo to her. She asked about my comfort in the hotel and gave me the news that my luggage has already arrived at Bagota. Someone will be bringing it to Villa de Leyva by afternoon. I was very happy by getting the news. She led me towards an old jeep standing outside the hotel. It was really very old. Beatriz told me to sit and started driving the jeep. She perhaps understood my hesitation and told in a very deep voice “Don’t worry doctor! This is the only property I have, the only good friend in this hill town. This is a 71 model Spanish jeep, I purchased in 95. It is very much suitable for this kind of roads. More over I don’t have money to buy a new one. I don’t work outside. Once I was a professor at National School of Dramatic Arts; Bagota till it was closed by the government in 1985. I didn’t opt for any job after that and started leaving here in this old town ship alone. I have spent all my money to purchased a piece land at the hill top to start my Bio-drama school and lived there alone… let’s start we are getting late.”

She hold the steering wheel. I saw two strong and big black dogs that were sleeping on the road side started running with the jeep side by side. “They are Romero the male and Almendra the female one; my only companion in this whole world”, she added. The jeep left the main street and started climbing up the hills. After few minutes we enter into the campus. Yesterday night when I came here couldn’t make out anything because of darkness and rain. But today I could see a beautiful hill scape adorned with lots of trees around of native origin. Two to three huts were also visible inside the trees. Beatriz told me, “22 years ago in 88 when I shifted to this place, there was nothing here, not even a grass. It was a barren land, the ancestral home of our native people; the Mueisca people. They were buried under this earth. The conquers killed them and destroyed their culture. Their women were raped. Children were killed and became slaves. All the bloods were mixed. The bloods of my ancestors are flowing in my body. Only to connect myself with the routes, I choose this place for my kind of drama, i.e. the “Bio-Drama”. I got a vibration from her which we generally experience in India but never care for; the Spirituality. I sensed a positive rhythm which flows in her thoughts very nearer to my energy and test. She loves and lives in nature. I became interested to know more about her and the concept of bio-drama so that I can focus my work to interact with her and the students. But it was too early for an interactive session, so I kept quite.

Beatriz took me to her house for breakfast. Her house was on a higher level surrounded by plenty of trees. It was a small one room house with tiled roof. I saw one easel and colours kept at one side of the veranda while one or two incomplete paintings kept against the wall. It seems to me to be her own work… We entered inside the house and the dogs waited outside for their mistress. I passed a glance around . A number of paintings were hanged on the walls with women as the subject. She appeared to be an accomplished painter… The formation of the lines and the application of colours clearly narrate the struggle and sufferings of women in the world. “She must be a feminist”, I thought. By the time she prepared coffee I moved around the hall. It was a rectangular place having old and antique expressions. The kitchen was placed near by the entrance door. There was a bed towards the left. The room was having lots of glass windows to interact with nature. The other part of the room was meant for her living and reading. I went to that side and sat quietly for some time. In front of me was a glass self with full of books. I got up to see them. I found Da Vinci, Vangogh, Goya and other painters in the book self. There were lots of Spanish books which I couldn’t make out. They must be the books on theatre. All on a sudden my eyes caught hold of a book lying at one corner down the self. It was “Savitri”, by Sri Arovindo, the great Indian philosopher. Then I discovered books on Indian religion and philosophy. A Spanish adaptation of Srimad Bhagawat Gita, Yogananda’s books on Yoga, books on “Sri Maa”, Krishna Murthi’s “Mahabharata”, discourses of “Bhagwan Rajnish”, books on “Gandhian thoughts and philosophy”, a complete volume of Ravindra nath Tagore and many other Indian books, kept in that self. “She must have read all these. She must be a spiritual lady. She must have known India more than myself.”……….. I picked up Arovindo’s “Savitri” out of curiosity. By that time Beatriz came with some bread and coffee. We sat on the sofa for breakfast. “Do you know Arovindo?”She said. “Yes very well”, I answered. “He was one of the greatest philosophers of our time. I admire his thoughts and his Krishna consciousness”….. “I am a follower of Arovinda. He was an intellectual of all the times.” She added . Then she narrated Arovindo’s vision for life, his self realization, meditation and achievements. She told me how Arovindo went to England to study law and after his return back to India he was offered a civil service in the British government which he discarded immediately. How he became a revolutionary and jailed where his self realization started and he met lord Krishna inside the prison which converted him to one of the greatest philosopher of the world.” I was astonished. “A lady from the other part of the world was talking me about my country and philosophy which I didn’t know much about”. I felt ashamed of myself. By that time I have already understood that she has an in-depth knowledge and study. She added how “The mother” came from France to join his mission. I shared my school days experience when I went on a red-cross tour to Pondicherry where I got the chance to have a glance of “The Mother” from a distance. We shared many thoughts over the coffee. She wants to know more about the connection of Gandhi and Bhagwatt Gita. For her it was a contradiction. How a man of non violence admires and followed the principles of Gita which was written on the backdrop of a great war? I intervened. “Gita never talks of war neither it provokes violence. It teaches us to do our “Karma” for which we came to this world. It teaches us how to maintain balance in different situations while discharging our duties. It shows us the path of liberation from this earthly world to the world of wisdom. That should be the Dharma of mankind. It never teaches violence and blood shade.” Then she wanted to know the difference between Dharma and Karma. I told her, “Those who take birth in this earth must follow certain principles, rules and regulations. As a human being our duty is to help others, to spread brother hood and love. We must be kind towards the sufferers. We must know how to maintain balance and harmony with the rhythm of the nature so as to lead a healthy life. This is our religion; our Dharma. The saints, Rishis and philosophers in the course of time has analyzed and interpreted this law of nature in different ways which we named them as religion or sects. No religion in the world talks of violence and promotes war. Karma is the deed. What we do to sustain the law of nature becomes our Karma. Man is judged by his karma. It is the action which decides our fate. If you do good for the mankind you will be liberated and if you do bad deeds you will be suffered. Gandhi has interpreted Gita in the context of non violence. It was the spirit of Gita that gives inner strength and courage to Mahatma Gandhi to conduct a great war of independence without a drop of blood shade against the mighty British rules. But now the globalization is wiping out Gandhian thoughts and his philosophy from the young Indian brains. It is really pity that the young generation in India is forgetting the ideologies set by our ancestors and saints”. “Yes…You are right” she added. “My country also is suffering with the same kind of problem. We have already forgotten the struggle for freedom by our leaders from the claws of the Spanish tyranny. We have forgotten Simon Bolívar, the father of our country. We became again slaves at the hand of the capitalists. We have resources, we have mines but we almost produce nothing. Our raw materials exported to the foreign countries and return back in the form of products. We became slaves again. We lost the link from our ancestral memory. We stopped thinking of the struggle of our grand fathers, fore fathers; the Muisca people who had laid their lives under this earth for the cause of the mother land. Their bodies were lying right here under this mountain. To understand the biological connection of our ancestors with the universe, to realize the natural harmony of human being and the nature, to identify with the memory of the body in space, time and creation and to establish a bond with those ancestral memories, I started this Bio-Drama School 22 year ago after my return from France. I choose this land so as to get positive vibration and energy from the ancestors. I read all these philosophical books to become more spiritual not in my behaviour but in my action. I knew that India is the only country where the spirit of energy is yet remained positive. No British, Moguls and other invaders could be able to destroy its purity, sanctity and culture. Your’s is a spiritual land. I invited you to establish an association between two different cultures seems to be pole apart but too similar in practice and behaviour. I called you to transmit the oriental energy in to the mind and soul of my students who are coming from different parts of America. We all will try to find the route of our memories that is flowing in our blood for thousands of years. I am preparing a play on the “Mother earth” for which your contribution towards the body memory will be essential”…………….

I found her so excited and emotional that tears rolled down from her eyes. Her throat chocked and voice vibrated. She couldn’t spoke more. I could understand her emotion and feelings so I wanted to conclude the discussion. It was almost noon and our lunch was ready. I told her, “ I will be with you for the whole month. We definitely will share our culture and philosophy with each other. I will try to contribute maximum to your mission. She gave me some painting books to go through. Among them there was a book on Guayasamin; the famous Latin American revolutionary painter. I have heard about him but never interacted. The book; America my brother, my blood, was based on the poetries of Pablo Neruda, one of the most outstanding communist poets from Chili. This fascinated me and I kept the book on priority.

The dining hall was an improvised small hall with the kitchen at one side. When we reached, the students were taking their lunch. Beatriz introduced me to the students. All the students got up from their places and greeted me. Though I couldn’t understand a single word of what they were saying but I could guess that they were well aware of me. Beatriz must have told all about of me. Beatriz narrated all of my sufferings to reach there. She introduced me to a man there who was taking his lunch there. “This is Wilson; a famous choreographer from Ecuador. Wilson works on body-elastics. He comes here for a week to teach dance movements to the students.” We greeted each other. Then she introduced to me a young lady; Luisa and told me, She will be my interpreter. “Luisa knows English well. Her husband is a boy from Belgium. He is a good musician. Luisa practices Yoga and wants to go to India. Here she is learning Bio-Drama. So she can assist you in your class”, she said. After my lunch she called a taxi for me and I returned to my hotel. I was very much tired of my journey and I slept. By the evening my luggage were arrived from Bogota. It was intact and nothing was lost. The airport person who brought it to the hotel at Villa de Leyva told me in his very bad English that the luggage couldn’t be board at Sao Paulo as I changed to a different air lines from there. But I was happy that I got my baggage. My night meal was served at the hotel itself………………

Continued…………………/Satyabrata Rout/Hyderabad University/India