Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Sundarsana Kalari Sangam

My Kalari Practice


suco de manga, castaneda e minha barba I grew up surrounded by the culture of fighting. Saw my brothers going to Judo classes when I was yet too young to attempt. Later on my parents engaged themselves in absorbing the teachings of the Chinese Tai Chi Chuan. In those days their dedication deeply amazed me as we found ourselves being invited to help and support the Kung Fu fighters who did their training in the same school as us. There we were then, travelling around the state of São Paulo, in Brasil, attending small and big tournaments of martial arts. I personally bared in my mind an image of myself as someone who could admire and appreciate but never attempt to practice or master any of those impressive movements – was not fit enough, totally clumsy at all sort of sports the school tried to teach and also had bronchitis attacks that made me gasp for air when under straining.

As time passed by Mother Nature brought me into closeness with her charms, and the chase after beautiful spots for camping with friends made me climb hills and mountains, the waves in the sea roared invitations for me to ride them. A vigorous flow of energy began to pump inside my bones and it gave me the guts to dare more and more into overcoming those limits which had been assimilated by my mind. Mother Nature then placed Yoga into my life, in my mid twenties, and swept away fears, anxieties and self-beliefs… to this ancient art I fully dedicated my body, mind, space and time for the last 10 years, a journey that brought me to this Incredible India, from where I sketch these rough lines.

Mahadeva!! I was invited in a dream to come to the ancient world where mystics and sages where also warriors and healers. At the back of my mind a trend of thought told me that I was coming here to kill my yogic practice and be challenged to bring it back to life from inside, renouncing for this moment teachings that came from outside… time had come to see my yoga emerging from within. And I must be humble to say that it will take another life time to digest this experience that is still in process and quite far from ending. Nevertheless, one word, one challenging word, was discreetly hanging in a corner of mind, as an intuition… and Kalarippayattu it was.

Few years before I joined, in my city, these classes of what was called Vajra Kempo, or Indian Kempo. There I saw my body performing incredible flairs, and later on someone whispered in my years that what I was practising was in fact called Kalarippayattu, an ancient martial art from South India. 

Lindo mural de budas dourados ao redor da Stupa After nearly one year on the road, roaming between India and Nepal, I took a deep breath and decided to follow that intuition, an inner voice that was beginning to yell instead of whispering! I asked the Gods and Goddesses of this land to help me to find my place of practice just as an arrow flies towards its aim… clear, concise and conclusive – a straightness that is definitely not my characteristic or virtue. But it worked!! In the third attempt I was introduced to an Ashan (master) that had neither performed for the National Geographic Channel, or was well-known beyond the boundaries of the Milk Way and therefore was entitled to charge 100 Laks for daily moments in his auspicious presence.

What then I found – or what found me, so to say – was a pair of eyes full of strength, power as well as the simplicity of a child. There was no violence there, neither greed… on the very contrary I felt passion for life and generosity to share what was known, in other words, I found just a person, a simple character, no celebrity, no movie star, neither the best in the world… but one real master, a man who sees his apprentices in a very deep way and helps them to help themselves, always reminding us that the real Kalarippayattu cannot be taught, for it ill emerge from inside. 

The first two months of practice brought along delight and pain as new forces began to spring from inside my skin, while the rigidity of my character was ripped off in great stretching movements that my own yoga had never reached before. My visa expired and an fantastic expedition in the seas, on board of a sailing boat, took me away for 8 months. There myEscola de Kalari body shrank again in the contained space of the vessel, flexibility and speed went down the drain while physical strength and resistance increased… win some, lose some, seems to be the rule. Therefore, this time on board was important for me to see how deeply in love I was with my martial art, craving for meeting with myself once more, in that arena dug in the ground, like a pit, where I dissolve as the sweat streams down my pores, in blood red soil.

101219_151224 I returned to this Varkala, a small touristic location in the very South of Kerala to meet my lover again, this Kalarippayattu. As for me, Kalari is one of those instrument left on Earth by the Devis and Devas to bridge the metamorphosis of our animalistic nature into divinity without creating opposition between the two stances, but rather integrating and unifying the beginning of the human evolutionary journey with its final destination. This bridge is also known as Yoga, and Yoga is also what takes place when the crossing of the bridge is finally realised.

May the journey towards the spiritual spheres of the Kalari Devis be bathed in light and victory, great achievements and self-realisation.

Namaskaram!

Satyavan Rogério