Between locally sourced coffee beans, artisanal dhoti pants and mud houses where industrialists, intellectuals and other followers roam in organic weaves, writer PRIYA RAMANI encounters new-age god-man and mystic SADHGURU JAGGI VASUDEV to probe his formula for happiness
The children are waiting when Jaggi Vasudev drives up in his ultramarine 1976 Toyota Classic Land Cruiser. We’re at Isha Home School, located in a corner of the lush 150-acre Isha Foundation at the foot of the Velliangiri mountain range in the Coimbatore district of Tamil Nadu. Every time he visits, this ivory clad Santa pulls out treats of homegrown wisdom from his pocket with a “ha ha ha” flourish, and this time is no different. One six-year-old in neat pigtails quips, “I am in first grade, so I don’t know anything.” Sadhguru, as he prefers to be called, replies promptly, “Even when you’re in the 10th grade you won’t know anything. That’s the beauty of life.” The children laugh. “Look at them,” he often tells his disciples. “Children never seek happiness, they are happy.”
A SHAPE IN A DRAPE
At Isha Foundation, glass and chrome make way for brick, lime and mud. It’s all clean-green with the smell of red earth in rain. Rani pink and plastic—the colour and material of choice in New India—are conspicuous in their absence. There’s good coffee and the ashram store stocks pure white dhoti pants made by authentic inhabitants of rural India. The work of local artisans is everywhere. This guru has impeccable taste.
You can even buy one of Sadhguru’s gently-used shawls at the store; most are gifts that he wears a few times before he gives them away. Its virtually impossible to find two images of him draped in the same indigenous weave. He’s got the god-man look down pat, right from the measured tone to the hand-spun robes, a thick copper anklet (my shackle, he calls it), a garland of tiny, sweetsmelling flowers and, err, white sports socks.
Esta historia es de la edición February 2018 de VOGUE India.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor ? Conectar
Esta historia es de la edición February 2018 de VOGUE India.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor? Conectar
Current affairs
Elif Shafak’s work abounds with references, memories and a deep love of Istanbul. She talks to AANCHAL MALHOTRA about the significance of home and those who shape our recollections of the past
A drop of nostalgia
A whiff of Chanel N°5 L'Eau acts as a memory portal for TARINI SOOD, reminding her of the constant tussle between who we are and who we hope to become
Wild thing's
Zebras hold emerald-cut diamonds, panthers morph into ring-bracelets that move and a turtle escapes to become a brooch -Cartier's high jewellery collection Nature Sauvage is a playground of the animal kingdom.
Preity please
Two surprise red-carpet appearances and a movie announcement have everyone obsessing over Preity Zinta. The star behind the aughties’ biggest hits talks film wardrobe favourites, social media and keeping it real.
Honeymoon travels
Destination locked, visas acquired, bookings madewhat could stand between a newly-wed couple and pure, unadulterated conjugal bliss in some distant, romantic land? A lot, finds JYOTI KUMARI. Styled by LONGHCHENTI HANSO LONGCHAR
La La Land
They complete each other’s sentences, make music together and get lost on the streets of Paris—this is the love story of Aditi Rao Hydari and Siddharth.
A SHORE THING
Annalea Barreto and Mavrick Cardoz eschewed the big fat Goan wedding for a DIY, intimate, seaside affair that was true to their individual selves.
7 pheras around the buffet
Celebrating the only real love affair each wedding season: me and a feast.
Saving AI do
From getting ChatGPT to plan your wedding itinerary to designing your moodboard on Midjourneytech is officially third-wheeling the big fat Indian wedding
Love bomb me, please
Between breadcrumbing, cushioning and situationships, the language of romance seems to be lost in translation. SAACHI GUPTA asks, where has the passion gone?