Red goes to Goa

Time to pack the bags again. This time it will just be, me and my red bag. I have a thing for red bags. Why, you may ask? 

When I was a little boy👦🏻 around 5 years old, I had a little red bag, which I would pack and tell everyone that “I am going to America.” I even had a piggy bank shaped like a tiny red bag. I didn’t go to America at 5, but the seed had been sown even before I could comprehend what it meant to leave my family and my country, to go to a foreign land and build my dream life. 

Since then, the red bag is a reminder of that child’s dream and how I am living it every moment of my life. The one I have now is the third one which I recently brought in the past 20 years. I would use and abuse them until it was time to retire them, which was not easy emotionally. The red bags have been with me on my travels from India to America, to all over Europe, to Central America, to Egypt and, now on this joyful adventure. 

I’m heading today to Goa where I will be spending the next 24 days learning all about Yoga. Yoga is more than the asanas (poses) but most of the studios in the western world has just focused on the fitness element, since it’s more appealing and a lucrative business in the fitness industry. There are few yoga studios, such as Tejas Yoga in Chicago, where you can practice pranayama and yoga nidra as well. 

I decided that this is the perfect time for me to immerse myself in learning yoga since I’m in India, the epicenter where yoga originated thousands of years ago by Rishis and Saints, who might never get the recognition as more of this ancient learning is being packaged and labeled into catchy and trendy names. 

Since I wanted to practice in a smaller group setting, I remembered reading about my friend Stu Zirin’s yoga journey last year at Oceanic Yoga. So, here I’m, at the airport waiting to board the flight to Goa and, of course, it’s flight 488. Number 88, my angels, back at it again. 

Waiting at the airport lounge is a perfect excuse for me to pickup a new book to read by the time I’m done with my yoga training. The emerald green door with sparkly jewels on the cover was calling my name. I picked it up and it was “The Palace of Illusions.” Who wouldn’t want to read about Panchaali, the wife of the five Pandava brothers? That must have been quiet scandalous at that time or may be not. We shall find more as I read this book over time. 

I’m getting a bit hungry as the flight is delayed by 30 minutes, so I munch on the treats my Mum packed for me. I often tell her, “Don’t pack anything Mum. I can get something at the airport.” But, she will always pack something for me. That’s what Mom’s are, always loving and caring, in spite of me being a pain in her neck at times. 

We board the flight and the pilot announces that we will be waiting for another 15 -20 minutes to be cleared for flying, until finally we are in the clouds. A smooth 60 minutes flight gets us to the sunny Goa, a land of beaches, churches and the remnants of the Portugese influence. I have not been back to Goa since my high schools days. We shall see what happens to me during this month of learning yoga and spirituality. Stay tuned 😉