The first lessons began with observing the Nature. G asked me to go and listen to all the sounds present in the environment. I believed that won’t take much time and wondered how is it related to ‘Yoga’ but wisely refrained from asking.
So in a hurry to finish the assignment at hand, I sat in the garden and a bit reluctantly, started to hear the sounds. Cooing of a bird, ah- I hear another kind and then another, rustling of the leaf, humming of a bee, rumbling of the river, chattering of the monkeys nearby, the grass swaying in the wind (took some time to figure out if it’s the wind or the grass?), the falling of a flower under gravity also has a certain audibility to it and I kept counting… Soon the hearing turned to listening. If you get what I mean…
Later, when G asked, “what did rajbir discover?” I replied that there were infinite sounds. Now, that was not the answer I had thought of, because there was a limit to what I had counted but ‘infinite’ came to my lips very spontaneously. Actually I never stopped listening; each moment, I was discovering a new sound, and wondering at the magnificence of the nature. It was utterly a joyful experience.
And we never talked about it anymore. So what was the whole point of it? There must be something more than acknowledging the sounds ever present around us. What is it that G is trying to convey? As usual, I had to deduce it myself, and because there are no absolute rights and wrongs, the learning, we get, is perfect in the present moment because the whole process is like diving in a bottomless ocean, the deeper you dive, the richer you emerge every single time. To listen to the sounds, we have to stop the chatters of our mind. And in the process, not only we realize the glory of the unfathomable nature but also we are tuning in – to the peaceful silence of our own being that is so much a part of our existence, of who we really are. Silence to most of us is a dreadful phenomenon but this silence of ‘the self’ is so addictive! Once you taste it, you cannot help but have to have more of it. And what better way than to be one with the nature, to see one’s self in the lotus blooming in the stagnant waters of the pond, to be one with the butterfly sitting so still on a flower, to enjoy with a bird that’s nibbling the ripe fruit high up on a tree, to fly the flight of a dry leaf with the winds of the spring, to drizzle like rain drops, to appear and disappear playfully like the mist over the mountains, to enjoy autumns, monsoons and summers along with the withering flowers and the blooming buds.
Gradually transcending from listening – to seeing, smelling, touching and feeling, suddenly this individual self seems to be existing every where and with every one. This apparent limited self of my own being now seems so limitless.
Once, I picked up few blades of over grown grass, which the gardener had freshly cut and sneakily put them in my pocket. Few hours passed, and I completely forgot about this rather insignificant act. Later abruptly, when my hands reached in, a dash of coolness surged through me, the grass was completely dry but its coolness was very much still present. It left an experience in my pocket that I cherish all the time.