THE KUNDALINI MEMOIRS OF A YOGI

“I will be back in a few hours,” declared Yogi Ji summoning a large Tulsi plant (Holy basil) to accompany him. Tulsi was firmly grounded into the ground, in the back room of the cave. He uprooted himself which took a while. Finally, he managed to dislodge himself and using the roots as legs he walked over to Yogi Ji. He was a mystical plant; whose reputation was impeccable. He was known to possess magical qualities for helping Yogis in their spiritual and healing tasks. Tulsi nodded towards me, ‘‘please do pour a generous amount of water collected from the northwestern point of the fauna meadow that springs from the hundredth millimetre of the valley of the Neem.’’ I nodded carefully so that Tulsi was reassured that I would do as asked. He

continued, “so that when I return, I can slide my legs back into the ground and have them nourished and soothed.” ‘‘Sure, that’s fine,’’ I said. This was a task that Yogi Ji had assigned to me every time Tulsi went for a walk with Yogi Ji, which was not that often. I waved goodbye to Tulsi and Yogi Ji as they left the cave. Waving was not something that I did usually and Yogi Ji said it was a good way to send good energy vibrations. When they left, I set about my task. I recalled that there were ants in the cave, somewhere. Yogi Ji had told me they would help me clean the hundreds and hundreds of bottles in which we would place the Ayurvedic medicine that he had prepared. The medicine which comprised liquids, ointments and even dried plants would be used for healing, wellbeing, and medicinal purposes.

‘‘We can communicate with other entities telepathically, using language, using herbs and plants, by scent and other ways,” said Yogi Ji. ‘‘These siddhis can be learnt or acquired.’’ Indeed, the practise of yoga had opened up many aspects of my abilities that I had not known of before. These came unexpectedly sometimes and other times took a while to master and perfect. Over time, I gained an understanding of communicating with other life forms. Yogi Ji often said to me that many people’s awareness of their inherent abilities, was covered with a veil of illusion. ‘‘The world is an illusion son. You are creating your reality every second. Your thoughts are creating your existence.’’ Now, after many years, I understand what he was talking about. We limit our own potential and abilities – because we do not think that we can acquire them or sometimes we are just not ‘aware’ that there are ways to learn them. Before the modern age humans devised many techniques that have become ‘lost’ to the world – to communicate, to summon, to create and shape the world around them. Yogi Ji said that we are not just one entity but in fact joined to others by a force that is invisible to the naked eye, but which can be experienced if not seen. The ancient Shamans, he told me were great masters of siddhis as were the ancient Egyptians. He also told me

that some ancient civilisations used these powers for dark purposes and that this was unethical practice. If any siddhis were acquired, they should only be used ethically. Returning to the task that Yogi Ji had set me, to enlist the support of ants to help me fill up the bottles, I continued to practise the meditation technique he had prescribed. ‘‘Consciousness is not confined to your mind, body and spirit Muni. It is everywhere. It exists all around you, and is a universal intelligence that is alive.” “Is this the same as prana shakti or Kundalini shakti?’’ I asked. I was bewildered with understanding yet another invisible energy – that I could not see with my naked eye. ‘‘You can call it shakti if you want or consciousness. Essentially it is an energy. There are diverse types but all from the same source. It’s a bit like saying waves of the ocean are different in size dependant on weather conditions, but essentially, Muni, they derive from the same source – the Ocean. Consciousness is an intelligent energy and you could even say a ‘being’ but not as you know it Muni. There are ways and techniques to shape it and to communicate with it.” I did explore the subject matter with Yogi Ji. ‘‘How will all of this knowledge help me communicate with the ants?’’

“Muni, think for one moment please. You are communicating with me. So, if you can communicate with me – what is preventing you from communicating with other beings? – except your ego?’’ This answer caused me some discomfort as it implied that I was arrogant or that I was so self-important that I could not communicate with an ‘ant’. I realised the answer was for me to find. Yogi Ji told me that I too had to search for answers, using my own modes of thinking. “Practise of regular yogic techniques, as I have taught you, over the course of many years will gradually awaken many different siddhis.” It was a cold morning and the temperature in the Yoga Bhavan was dropping very quickly. I could feel the cold air wrapping my bones, as if it was a scarf. The scent of distant fauna from the Himalayan meadows was in the air and felt refreshing. I wandered in my mind that if I was shivering, surely no ant could survive such weather. Bushie the snow leopard helped me light a log fire. It took a while to light, as the charcoal from the previous sessions had to be removed and boxed. Yogi Ji did not want us to waste anything. ‘‘There is a purpose and use for everything. We live in a wonderful world Muni.

Every single aspect of creation is reusable, even if it is not in its original form. We merely change form and with that change is a change in consciousness.” The left over burnt wood which often contained herbs, leaves and other plants, that Yogi Jee and I had been mixing to sanitise the air can only be described as magical. The fine powder felt silky to touch. We carefully scooped up the powder and placed it into two large boxes. It would be used for whatever suitable purpose that was needed, from soothing grazes, cuts, cleansing the pores of the skin and for sharing with other creatures.

The fire was eventually lit and me and Bushie sat down and enjoyed the warmth. Bushie lay down onto his spine and brought his front legs into padmasana pose. His back legs remained in an upright position. ‘‘Bushie you are becoming highly proficient at yoga practise.” I said, stroking Bushie’s head. The snow leopard purred and smiled. He began rocking first to the right and then the left. I stood up and laughed, ‘‘that’s not how to perform padmasana Bushie! You have a lot to learn.” Bushie stared at me, his eyes wide open. They were gentle and I could see some tears swelling up.

I laughed louder as Bushie moved his tail side to side, while rocking. His tongue came out of his mouth and the tip of it was placed on his Ajna chakra point (third eye). I bellowed even more in laughter so that I had to hold my stomach. I made so much noise that an army of ants came marching from all corners of the Yoga Bhavan foyer to where I was standing. I didn’t notice them at first but I felt a bite on my ankle and I yelped in pain and hopped on one leg. ‘‘Ow, ouch, arrgh!” I grabbed the red ant that was still biting into my ankle and forcefully pulled it off. ‘‘What are you doing ant? Have you gone mad?’’ The ant was a giant red one with black eyes. ‘‘Stop making so much noise Muni. We can all hear you in the crevices of the cave rocks.” I was amazed at the mischievousness of the ant. Bushie continued whatever he was doing. I sat down on one of the large granite, rocks situated on the southeast corner of the cave foyer, rubbed and patted the ant bite with some charcoal to soothe the pain. Pointing to the red ant who had assumed sheershasana pose, I said, “Well while you are out and about, please kindly polish up the bottles that Yogi Ji has left over there’’. The ant was upside down and did not flinch.