The surfboard hanging over the dining room door painted with the words “Om Sweet Om” epitomises the relaxed spirituality practised in this ashram. This is no brainwashing cult, just a group of devout, spiritual surfers who are keen to share their way of life.
Written by: Ed Templeton
Ishita is, as far as she knows, India’s only female surfer. She laughs as she recounts her surprise on discovering the ”Surfing Swamis” ashram nearly two years ago. Now, she, my girlfriend and I are sharing a huge, post-surf breakfast with Daruka Das, the manager of this fascinating little outpost.
It’s true that India doesn’t immediately conjure visions of surfers, and that its 4,700-mile coastline remains virtually un-surfed, but the devotees at the Kaliya Mardana Krishna Ashram in Karnataka are doing their bit to remedy this. Their guru, Swami Narasingha, who grew up surfing in Florida, established this coastal outpost to his main ashram four years ago. For the past two years they have welcomed paying guests, as well as sharing their surfing knowledge and love of the ocean with local children.
We surf early, before the heat of the day saps our energy, and we have the six-mile stretch of palm-fringed, pale powdery beach to ourselves. The occasional local passes, with teetering loads on his or her head head, but with no indigenous beach culture to speak of, and no other tourists, this archetypal tropical paradise remains empty. In fact, the only crowd we encounter during our stay is a flock of brown-winged, white-bellied fish-eagles taking turns to climb 50ft or more before plummeting into the sea to snatch their prey, yards from our boards.
The waves here are gentle at this time of year and the atmosphere relaxed among our small surfing band. From beginners to experts, we are inspired by Daruka’s enthusiasm, encouragement and desire to spread his joy of surfing. We whoop and whistle one another onto the small waves rolling eastwards, chatting, laughing and playing. Can you imagine getting a hoot, a grin and a thumbs up from a priest, mullah or rabbi as you glide past him on a wave?
Once driven shoreward by hunger, we pass the rest of the day in a delicious languor, reading, taking gentle bike rides or in easy conversation with the devotees. Trips up river on the ashram boat, use of kayaks, bikes and skateboards are all on offer, though we don’t take them up.
“I landed in India with two surf boards to meet friends from back home in San Diego, intending to surf and backpack,” says Daruka. “I never imagined I’d be here two-and-a-half years later, a Krishna devotee,” he adds as we sit on the dock, watching local families wade through the shallow lagoon scooping clams from the mire for their supper.
Guests at the ashram are limited to four to avoid diluting its primary devotional purpose and are housed in a separate building facing the rear courtyard of the ashram. The simple double rooms contain two single beds – celibacy, vegetarianism and alcoholic abstinence are required of any one who wishes to stay here.
Each morning and evening, we are drawn to the small temple room by the melodic chanting (Bhajans) accompanied by mridanga drum, harmonium, bells and cymbals, which build in volume and intensity, culminating in bellowed rounds of the familiar Mantra “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna!” as the devotees’ swaying spirals into dancing.
As this ritual becomes familiar I’ve loosened from an intrigued silent observer to a mumbling, shuffling participant. Guests are free to watch, join in or just leave the devotees to it and meet up afterwards for Prasadam, another way of honouring Krishna through the cooking, offering and eating of a hearty, delicious meal. Conversation and laughter flows easily, and the loving, devotional focus on food preparation is manifest in the dishes we devour – a sticky Persian vegetable rice with a spicy, sweet peanut and tomato chutney one evening, lemon rice dotted with cashews and a piquant okra sambar the next. To finish, we enjoy a procession of homemade jaggery – infused milk desserts, perfumed with locally grown wild vanilla, cloves and cardamom.
The surfboard hanging over the dining room door painted with the words “Om Sweet Om” epitomises the relaxed spirituality practised in this ashram. This is no brainwashing cult, just a group of devout, spiritual surfers who are keen to share their way of life.
Link to article in The Telegraph:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/activityandadventure/7343968/India-Devoted-to-surf.html