It was September. I remember zipping up duffle bags and loading my things into storage, delicately taking apart my life in New York City. There were so many steps to relocating to India that any expectations of my soon-to-be journey fell to the wayside. I only had a vague idea of what life in Madhya Pradesh might be like, what the food might taste like, what the work at my host organization might entail. At times feeling unequipped in front of so many open-ended questions.
Indeed, if I had spent time coming up with concrete expectations, I now know that they would have been in vain. In the two months I’ve spent in India, any shred of expectation has been overcome, deconstructed and built again – just to be rendered useless. Simply stepping outside can begin a chain reaction of events that you couldn’t predict.
My first Sunday in Harda, my small town in Madhya Pradesh, was just that. And it has set the course of my time in India on an important, deliberate, and reflective path.
I stepped out and onto one of the busier roads in Harda. This busy avenue split both the bus and train stations, the daily small town fervor started and ended along this street, like a river feeding its tributaries. By midday, the town’s energy had reached a peak that was constant; hordes of scooters and bikers riding together singing the hymn of the road. Without a destination in mind, I joined them on foot.
Not ten minutes into my walk did I meet a young kid named Neavaidh (pronounced nah-veed). He stared at me in the way others have here. There’s typically a moment of anticipation – a calculation of what to say. And in my case, how to respond. Most of these conversations start and end with the following:
“From which country are you from?”
“America.”
“Wow.”
Not much more to it than that. When Neavaidh approached, admittedly, I expected the same thing.
But after the usual, he persisted:
“Wow. What is best classic American food? Hot dog or apple pie?”
And now we were two, walking along this busy road discussing different toppings that can go on a hotdog. He told me about his school, his friends, and how he is saving up to buy a new video game. He also told me that his family is traveling to Hyderabad for a meditation retreat. His father, Ashish, practices “Heartfulness Meditation”, and as a family they are all going to visit the biggest Heartfulness Mediation center in India. I told Neavaidh that I’d like to hear more about this meditation sometime.
Neavaidh and his family have recently moved here from Mumbai. His father works for the train company and has recently been transferred to this area. Each of them leaving the big city for small-town India. Just like me.
I realized quickly that our seemingly aimless path became more of a guided stroll, and I wasn’t on a walk as much as I was being led. Within minutes we had arrived at Neavaidh’s house.
Busy with the Diwali Safai (the pre-Diwali house cleaning), his family greeted me at the door. With a genuine smile I introduced myself and complimented their clean, beautiful home.
Ashish joined me at their table and asked me basic questions about my time in India so far. He was curious about how I was adjusting to the weather, life in central India, and my tolerance for spicy food.
“Is India what you expected?”
There it was again – my expectations. “It has exceeded them,” I told him through a smile.
“Jake wants to know about meditation!” Neavaidh said, chiming in.
Ashish nodded, then stood up. He went to his room and returned in a fresh shirt, beckoning me to follow him outside. Before I knew it, all three of us were on the back of his scooter, going upstream the same river we just came down.
We parked on an empty street and entered through a small gate that opened into a courtyard. A stone staircase led Ashish, Neavaidh and me into an old, large home, and then further into a sitting room.
In a plastic chair in the center of the room, sat a man, crossed-legged, overseeing a thermos of tea and a plate of biscuits. We sat with him and I listened to the origins of Heartfulness Meditation: how it’s derived from Raja Yoga, an ancient yogic practice focused on inner stillness and discipline, how its intent is to remove emotional clutter and settle the mind naturally, and that it is entirely free, donation-based, and secular.
I hung on every word as if a question I didn’t know I had had received an answer I desperately needed. And when Gorakh asked me if I was free to join him for a sitting now, I felt as if I had no choice, that the expectation of today was to ‘expect anything.’
Gorakh led me through my first mediation, and in the two months since, my relationship with meditation and Gorakh has become as fundamental to my short time in India as my actual purpose here. After our sittings, I eat breakfast with him and his family, and we discuss our experiences, share insights, and I learn from someone that I deeply respect.
No amount of expectation could have prepared me for my time in India, my time with Gorakh, and now, the time I spend with myself.
