“I don’t teach anymore, but I could point you in the right direction. I apologize for being repetitive, but please be mindful of charlatans,” Mr. Anaya emphasized.
“That would be great, Mr. Anaya. We will be cautious. Thank you so much for the lunch and the information,” Gerua said politely. She figured the Anayas were just being protective.
As everyone finished their meals, Mr. Anaya said, “You could go to India Gate and Connaught Place today and see a bit of Delhi. You could also go to the Red Fort and have a look at the old city. I suggest that you go a little later though. It is very hot right now. And please keep yourselves hydrated. I saw that Kally did not drink any water. The water here is filtered and safe to drink. Please take a bottle of water with you when you go out.”
Thanking the Anayas, they returned to their room. Gerua had barely closed the door when Kally said, “Cheeky old man!”
“He is just concerned and trying to be helpful, Kally. It is the Indian way. You wanted to come to India to learn about yoga, so get with the program and don’t be cynical about everything.” Gerua spoke in a low but firm voice.
“Sure thing, babe, I will adapt. Right now, I could sleep for another ten hours.” Kally yawned.
“If you go back to sleep now, you’ll be jet-lagged even longer. I’ll arrange a cab to take us to Connaught Place at around five today.” She got on the phone as Kally crashed onto the bed. “We are all set for four-thirty to India Gate and Connaught Place. It will take us thirty to forty-five minutes to get there. Kally, don’t sleep.” Gerua shook Kally as she lay in bed, covering her face with the comforter.
“Wake me up at quarter past four. You go and talk to the old man. Find out more about the direction he was going to point out to us,” Kally said lazily. And she fell asleep again.
Gerua knew that she couldn’t persuade Kally to get up. But Kally’s suggestion was a good one. She could find out more from their hosts.
After a while, Gerua stepped out of the room in search of the Anayas. She saw their host sitting in the lobby, reading the Odyssey by Homer. His wife sat next to him, cutting vegetables for dinner.
He looked up as Gerua approached.
“Kally has fallen asleep again. I don’t mean to intrude, but I thought I could get some knowledge about yoga from you.”
Mr. Anaya’s eyes lit up, and he smiled at Gerua. He inserted a bookmark at the page he was reading before putting his book down. He had evaluated both young women. He knew that they were both very smart. While Gerua was cautiously compassionate, an introvert, Kally seemed carefree and impulsive with an attitude.
As their host, he felt responsible for them at least as long as they were his guests. He knew that it was useless to say anything to Kally. Gerua was another story. He instinctively felt that both had a destiny. As he looked into Gerua’s eyes, he saw something profound, and a sense of warmth embraced him. He wanted to talk to this young lady. Her eyes had a sense of purpose, and he could sense that her presence in India was no accident. She was here for a reason, and he felt compelled to play his part.
“Have you read this book?” he asked Gerua, handing her the book. “It is fascinating. It is a sequel to the Iliad in which Odysseus devises a victorious strategy to defeat Troy. In this book, the Odyssey, Odysseus sets sail on open seas to journey back to his home in Ithaca. During his voyage, Odysseus confronts many mythical creatures and faces the wrath of God. These mythical creatures make his voyage an odyssey that takes a decade to complete.” He paused, looking directly into her eyes. “Do you know we have similar mythical beings and creatures in India?” Mr. Anaya said, smiling. “The only difference is that the ones in India might still be around today.”
“Mythical beings and creatures around today?” Gerua raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, because some are yogis. Ha ha...” Realizing that their host was trying to be humorous, Gerua chuckled. “But this book is also interesting because there are some unusual similarities between Greek and Indian creatures of myth,” Mr. Anaya added.
“For example, there are beings like Circe, who turns the men of Odysseus into swine, holding them prisoner. Here, we have churels, who are known to cause havoc in men’s lives. We also have pishachas. Pishachas are demonic creatures that have the power to assume different forms at will and may also become invisible like ghosts. They feed on human energy especially fear, possessing mortal beings and altering their thoughts. The victims are afflicted with a variety of maladies like insanity, paranoia and such. Certain mantras are supposed to cure those afflicted and drive away the pishachas.
“You will probably not meet any of these creatures. But you may meet people who practice strange rituals and possess unusual powers. You only have to visit a cremation ground, and you might see aghori, those that practice a modern version of aghor yog.
“These new aghori are now a part of the modern aghori sect, and most have relinquished the purity of aghor yog. These aghori are now cannibalistic, alcohol-drinking, drug-taking men and women who often practice the dark arts. They actively engage in cannibalism. It is believed that the most powerful aghori can control sinister inorganic entities. Aghori are feared by most ordinary people, and people usually avoid them.”
“They actually eat human flesh, and they live in the cities?” asked Gerua, shocked. “Why doesn’t the police arrest them and stop these aghori?”
“My dear young lady, Indians have learned to be very tolerant of bad as well as good. The poor engage in veneration because they don’t have anything and they feel that the aghori might be able to help them. The rich make offerings because they are afraid to lose what they have. Both the rich and the poor fear that the aghori might curse them. Similarly, the police respect these aghori. At the same time, they fear their dark and sinister powers. And yes, aghori eat human flesh from the semi-cremated corpses. They also carry a denuded human skull called kapal and use it as a cup for drinking alcohol and other beverages.”
Gerua felt sick and nearly wretched. “Are you okay? I am sorry. I shouldn’t have been so explicit.”
“No, no, please continue,” said Gerua weakly.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Anaya asked anxiously. Gerua nodded.
Mr. Anaya continued after a brief pause. “I have also heard of an American aghori, a Houston-born man. He has roamed across India for years in search of enlightenment, believing that eating human flesh bestows spiritual and physical benefits. He, like any other aghori, drinks only from the kapal. You can look it up on the internet. There are aghori all over the globe. In order to become an aghori, one has to meditate for twelve years, often sitting on dead bodies. You have to practice absolute servitude of your master and are not allowed to have a family. The aghori perform abominable rituals sacred to them. They chant sinister incantations and attempt to invoke dark entities. They are quite scary.”
Gerua sat shell-shocked. She wondered if there was any truth to the stories. She had been to Mumbai and travelled to various tourist destinations with her father before, but she had never heard of the aghori rituals and their cannibalistic nature.
“I am confused. My father, who is a Brahmin, made me study a little bit of Sanskrit,” said Gerua. “Aghori is derived from the word
‘aghor’, which means ‘that which is not difficult or terrible’. Am I correct?”
“You are absolutely correct.” Mr. Anaya was impressed.
“I have heard that aghor yoga helps direct energy toward the greater good. Isn’t that the case?” Gerua was confused.
“That is correct, and this was the case. But when you perform rituals like the modern aghori perform, it is easy to go over the precipice and into a dark abyss. Please indulge me and do a Google search for aghori and their rituals,” requested her host.
Gerua did a quick internet search, and she was aghast to discover that what her host had told her was true. These cannibalistic aghori were real. She looked at her host, who was looking kindly at her.
“Young lady, whatever you do,
the most important thing is to understand what you are getting into. Today many practitioners of tantric and aghor yog are those who have already gone over the precipice. And it is of grave importance that you identify these people and not fall into their traps. Please remember that there are all kinds of yog. Yog enables a yogi to do many things—retain good health, extend life, obtain peace, strengthen ones mind, attain supreme martial skills, and obtain ultimate control over the elements as well as elementals.
“You might think that what I am telling you is absurd, but for some reason, I feel compelled to inform you. I have even heard that in the Himalayas, there are such practitioners of the modern aghor and tantric yog who have attained supreme control over the supernatural and paranormal creatures and entities. Obsessed with great powers, they believe they are above human law. There are also cults or edicts these yogis strictly adhere to.”
“Mr. Anaya, I don’t quite understand what you are saying. What kind of creatures? What are these cults or edicts? Kally and I are planning to go to the Himalayas in search of a yoga guru.” For Gerua, this shocking information was hard to digest. She couldn’t understand what dark forces could be unleashed on humanity by a bunch of crazy cannibals.
“My dear Gerua, tales of masters in all kinds of yog can be found in the Himalayas. The enlightened, virtuous super yogis live in secrecy on the peaks. They can tolerate extreme cold, icy winds, and chilly, snowy nights. Only those who have achieved the highest form of yog can survive there. But there are also very powerful but dark yogis who live in the valleys below. For some reason, they are unable to tolerate the extreme cold of the peaks.
“All great yogis, whether virtuous or evil put very little burden on their organs. Their cells die slowly because of lack of toxins. As new cells reproduce, their DNA is replicated and even improved instead of being replaced by minutely damaged DNA, as is the case with normal mortals. They say some have even acquired the art of remodeling their DNA to evolve into becoming better and stronger, releasing hidden knowledge within themselves. New young cells with strong DNA and knowledge make them younger and stronger. In ordinary mortals, DNA damages as cells replicate. That is one reason why we age and eventually die...”
Mrs. Anaya saw Gerua’s bewildered expression and put her hand on her husband’s leg. He paused to look at his wife and then at Gerua. “Anyway, I understand all this must be sounding ludicrous to you. I am sorry if I alarmed you. I just want you to be careful in your search for yog. If you were just a regular tourist, I would not have said anything. But you young ladies seem to be on a quest.” He looked at his watch. “Now wake up your friend and please get ready. Your taxi will be here shortly. Try and be back by eight in the evening for dinner.”
Gerua, though bewildered, was fascinated by everything Mr. Anaya had told her. He seemed kind and concerned. Whatever he said made some sense, but it all seemed like a fantasy. She couldn’t get it out of her head. With her palms clasped in front of her sternum respectfully, she said, “Namaste and thank you.” She slowly walked to her room.
Kally was fast asleep. Gerua woke her up as she headed toward the bathroom to change. However, when she came out, Kally was still sleeping. She sat on Kally’s bed, put her hand on her friend’s shoulder, and shook her gently. “Kally, please get up. The cab will be here soon.”
“You go... I want to sleep,” Kally murmured woozily.
Gerua knew it was useless to try to persuade Kally. She wanted some time to digest and accept what she had been told by her host anyway. Going to Central Delhi on her own would give her that time.
The traffic was dense. Cars, trucks, bicycles, and motorized rickshaws all appeared to be moving chaotically. No one followed lanes, and slow, as well as fast traffic moved together, swarming the roads. It was a miracle that people reached their destination. However, there seemed to be a method to the madness. The taxi driver knew exactly what to do and reached India Gate’s wide roads in less than half an hour.
Gerua couldn’t help but be impressed when they drove through the wide road adjacent to the sprawling lawns of diplomatic area. They drove past the president’s house, the prime minister’s office, and the Ministry of Finance. The architecture was timeless. She saw the perfectly circular shape of the Indian Parliament and the sprawling lawns at India Gate before moving on to the chaotic traffic and overcrowded shops and restaurants of Connaught Place.
Walking through the congested Connaught Circle was exhausting, the heat sapping.
Connaught Place was full of Indian, Chinese, and other restaurants and all kinds of retail outlets. She considered eating in one of the outlets but decided otherwise. She was hoping that by the time she returned, Kally would be awake and would have dinner with her, and then they both could talk. She could not get Mr. Anaya’s words out of her mind. Why had he been compelled to tell her about the aghori? By seven-thirty, she was heading back to West End.
Gerua was in West End by around eight, and when she went to their room, she found that Kally was still sleeping. “Kally, please wake up. They’re waiting for us for dinner.”
“Who is waiting for us?” asked Kally groggily. “I am so tired... I want to sleep.”
“Kally, we are in New Delhi. You are jet-lagged. Get up or your body clock will take longer to adjust. We agreed to go to Tony’s party tomorrow. Fun and adventure, remember?”
Kally turned her back and covered her ears with a pillow. “Let me sleep,” she said.
Gerua pulled the pillow away, and after a struggle, she finally managed to wake up her friend. Kally reluctantly walked to the bathroom. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she accompanied Gerua to the dining table. She sat silently at the table while Gerua talked about her trip to India Gate and Connaught Place. Their hosts saw that Gerua needed to rest.
“You can excuse yourselves and go and get some rest. We will take some time to finish,” said Mrs. Anaya.
Gerua and Kally thanked the Anayas for dinner and headed back to their room. Within a few minutes, both were asleep.
They woke up early morning. Gerua showered first and got ready to join the Anayas for breakfast. She didn’t wait for Kally, instead asked her to join them at the dining table. Gerua wanted to talk to Mr. Anaya some more.
“Good morning,” said Gerua, finding Mrs. and Mr. Anaya waiting for them for breakfast. “Kally will be joining us shortly.”
“Is she still asleep?” asked their hostess.
“No, she is awake and getting ready.” Gerua smiled back, her green eyes warm.
“What will you have for breakfast? We have some mixed fruit and potato-stuffed flatbread called parantha,” offered Mrs. Anaya. “I will have a cup of coffee and just one parantha with mango pickle and some fruit.” Mrs. Anaya beamed at Gerua’s request. “You will like the mango pickle. I made it myself,” Mrs. Anaya said proudly.
“Oh, I absolutely love homemade mango pickle and would have eaten at least two parantha, just for the taste of the pickle. But we have to attend a brunch party at our friend’s farmhouse. I can only have one.”
“You will remember what I told you yesterday? Tell your friend to be careful too,” advised a visibly worried Mr. Anaya.
“Please let her enjoy her mango pickle with parantha.” Mrs. Anaya politely admonished her husband.
“I am enjoying it, Mrs. Anaya,” Gerua responded kindly, taking a bite. She looked at Mr. Anaya. “Kally can be... impulsive, but I’ll try to convince her. I have been thinking about what you said, but frankly, I don’t understand what you said toward the end of our discussion. You know the part about some yogis being harbingers of doom.” Gerua looked at her host, waiting for further explanation. Mrs. Anaya shook her head silently.
“My dear young lady, I don’t know everything. It was a long time ago when I was in the Himalayas. Before I went north, I went south. There, I learned yog. I also learned Kalaripayattu, the ageless Indian martial art. I followed the teachings of Bodhidharma, the great yogi and the father of all martial arts.”
Gerua interrupted her host. “A yogi was the father of all martial arts?”
“That is correct.” Her host continued. “It was Bodhidharma who traveled to China and introduced unarmed martial arts to the monks to enable them to defend themselves. From there, it spread to the Far East.
“When I was young, I traveled north, just like you intend to. I met a great yog master who used to live in the Himalayas. I believed in him and trusted him. In the nick of time I learned that he was about to initiate me to the sinister side of aghor yog. He had many students from all over the world, and I heard some of them never came back. As fate would have it, I was put in charge of getting provisions for the settlement, along with another student who shared my mind-set. Luckily, we both managed to escape and were saved. But that is a story for another day. I have learned that since then the influence of sinister super aghori has spread considerably. Its roots lie somewhere in between the glaciated central valleys and in the lower Himalayas. That is all I know. You are a smart person Gerua, and so is your friend Kally. Please use your intelligence and instinct. Be abundantly mindful.”
Gerua nodded silently, still wondering if all this was real. She decided to do some more research and find out for herself before bringing it up with Kally. If she could show Kally something concrete, then Kally would understand and not laugh it off. Gerua was sure Kally would not dismiss some solid evidence as some “old man’s tale”.
Dwandv:: The Battle for the Gate Page 3