Guruji Paints!

After only one night in the Ashram, we felt a pull from the north, especially after spending the day unsuccessfully finding a hotel in Rishikesh. Although a magnificent and holy place, Rishikesh happened to be in the midst of a one-week International Yoga and Mediation conference and the city was packed with pilgrims and foreigners. 

Before we departed, Swamiji said that Guruji would be happy to answer any questions we might have. Once again, I entered the greeting chamber where Guruji welcomes and speaks with disciples, devotees, travelers, and pilgrims.

I asked Guruji, “what is time?” 

He smiled. He might have even chuckled a bit. 

He replied that time is one of the universal qualities of God which we come to know on the earth. We know it a sunrise and sunset, and in the human form of past, present, and future. Time in its universal form occurs in the present. God the universe is all time.

 

He also spoke to me of health and of actions.

 

 Guruji said that we should use our mouths with great caution. A wise person thinks twice about what he drinks, twice about what he eats, and twice about what he speaks. 

He also spoke about how the body is constructed of three parts: the head, the hands, the heart. The way that we use each part can determine how we live our lives. In conversation, when we use the head, we react. When we use the hands, we retaliate. When we use the heart, we respond. The correct and most valuable action always comes from the heart.

“Where are you going now?” Guruji asked. Clearly he was happy to help guide our trip.

“We do not know yet,” I responded.

“Well, it is better to have some idea of where you are going before setting off somewhere,” he replied. “Have you no idea where you might want to go next?”

“Yes, Guruji, we were thinking of going to Mussoorie,” I answered.

He thought Mussoorie a good decision and provided very accurate travel information that saved us from the constant “fleecing” that follows us throughout India. We packed our bags and stopped by for a final goodbye.

There we found Guruji, standing in the dining area with a large paintbrush in one hand, and a small transistor radio and a cell phone in the other. His four meter long locks draped casually upon his forearm. His paintbrush moved in long strokes along the pale yellow walls. 

“It is so nice to see that you are a painter as well as a guru,” I said to him. “We love to paint. We spend a lot of time painting.” 

“I love to work. I love to paint, to construct,” he replied.
 

And we waved goodbye, leaving the Guru, paintbrush in hand, looking out across the expansive Ganges river.