How lessons learned at a yoga school at a young age helped me navigate life.
By Dipti Prokash Roy
As a recent retiree who has approached the “reflective†years of my life, I can’t help but think about yoga as one of the pillars of my life. To some yoga is a science, while to others it’s an art. To me it’s part of my core being and something that has shaped me into the man I am today.
As a tribute to the International Day of Yoga, which was celebrated recently, I would like to share with the readers of The American Bazaar, my experiences of how I was introduced to yoga starting with my days as a child at the Yogoda Brahmachajya Vidyalay in Ranchi, India, to today as a retired engineer who was blessed to work for over 50 years with several multinational corporations throughout the world.
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In our everyday business world, the Sanskrit word yoga means addition. The addition of two or more numbers, objects, thoughts and solutions. Very long ago, scholars and psychologist realized that there is lack of co-ordination between mind and physical activities. This lack of coordination makes us erratic and unpredictable. After several years of observations and research with various animals, these experts realized that our physical imbalance and the breathing frequency of inhale and exhale was the root cause of our physical maladies and erratic behavior.
During my early childhood in India, I was regarded as a kind hearted and aimlessly mischievous boy who was known to have his share of erratic behavior like so many other kids with an endless abundance of energy. I was very loving and respectful to my parents. Discipline was a playful word in our household. My father was a central (federal) government employee who used to travel extensively, so whenever he returned home from his long business trips, the last thing he wanted to deal with was complaints of bad behavior and poor results at school. His impatience with these two things made sure his kids were respectful to adults and studious.
As a result of the local school not being up to my mother’s standards, she convinced my father that I must go to a better school in our ancestral home town of Khamarpara, West Bengal. After a short stay there, my uncle realized that I did not like it there, so he brought me back home. Nonetheless, my parents and uncle realized that their son needed to leave our hometown and go to another town that provided better educational opportunities for myself.
With that in mind, another uncle of mine came to visit use and to inform my parents of a boarding school established by Paramahansa Yogananda Giri, known as the Yogoda Brahmachajya Vidyalay, located in Ranchi, which was then part of the state of Bihar. Paramahansa Yogananda, who would later move to the United States to start the Self Realization Fellowship, had established a school that had very good reputation similar to the renowned Ramakrishna School.
In addition to academics, the school’s curriculum included exercise, yoga and religious training, as these three qualities were regarded as essential to a balanced and well-rounded life. The resident students had to do their own daily chore, like washing their own clothes, dishes, make their own beds, help with cooking and take care of the younger children. Students must also attend daily prayer and meditation sessions. The ultimate charter of YSS school was to transform kids who may have been ignorant and confused to a well-rounded human being who could take on the challenges of life with a solid foundation of mental, physical and spiritual attributes.
On January1st, 1951, I arrived at the Yogoda Brahmachajya Vidyalay in Ranchi. It seems like just yesterday as I can easily recall the most intricate details of that day. It was a boys-only boarding school surrounded by a medium high fence and two iron gates on both sides of the compound. The whole compound was filled with lovely flowers and exotic fruit trees. There were a few camphor trees and a few eucalyptus trees. One other thing I noticed was there were no class rooms; instead, there were a foot-high concrete pads under the trees where students were sitting and listening to the teacher (a monk). This was a classroom environment like no other. Students were smiling and genuinely engaged in the teachings of the monks.
As we (me and my uncle) waited a few minutes in the school office, the headmaster arrived to greet us. The headmaster was a short gentleman who was in his early 50s wearing the stereotypical Bengali ‘babu’ clothing and spectacles. One thing I noticed was this gentleman had only three fingers on each of his two hands. As we stood up to show him respect, he immediately told us to sit down and listen to the school rules, which I was required to follow in order to be accepted into the school.
The gentleman introduced himself as Sri Girendra Chandra Dey. He made it clear that he follows his master’s (Parmahansa Yogananda) instruction to run this dormitory school in such a way that everyone followed the same rules and regulations. There would be no special rules for kids of influential parents. He continued, everyone must wake up at 5:30 am and be at the prayer hall by 6:00 am. He kept giving instruction after instruction. He was sitting like a piece of plank, his face was like a bright sun light. You dare not interrupt him with a question. At the end of the meeting he told my uncle that he may leave now and a co- habitant will take care of me. My uncle left. That was the last I saw of my uncle and anyone else in my family for quite some time.
The headmaster and I both stood up. He said, “Everyone calls me Giren Da, so you will as well. Dipti Prokash you will be admitted in class 6. Wait here, I will send your class monitor to show you your room and guide you around for the next few days. He then left and I was alone, completely alone for the first time in my life. I started to miss my parents, my sister, my younger brother, my dog and I started to cry. I then started to gaze at a picture on the wall of a smiling face which provided a reminder that I needed to “turn my frown upside down†and replace my pout with a smile.
A young boy of my age entered the room from behind, and introduced himself as Dilip Das. Dilip told me he will show me my room, the kitchen and inform me of everything I needed to know to get acclimated with the school.
My bed was located in a large hall with a few other fellow residents. My dinner plates, drinking glasses and some books were neatly placed on my bed. After a little while, we went for a vegetarian dinner, and after dinner we came back to our room, sat on our bed and recited a goodnight prayer. The wake-up bell rang very early in the morning, while it was still pitch black dark outside. The room light came on and we were told by the monks to meet in the prayer room. My first day at Yogoda Brahmachajya Vidyalay had officially begun.
After the morning prayer, when everyone was leaving, I was told by Girenda to wait for some questions and instructions. After a few questions regarding my 10-year-old life, he said: “I will show you a few preliminary breathing exercises which you will practice three times a day. In addition, you must learn yoga from Anima Nandaji, todayâ€.
Then, Girenda, who later became Achajya Swami Bidyananda Giri, showed me two breathing techniques, during which I was instructed to concentrate my mind between my eyebrows. During this initial lesson, he unexpectedly tapped my forehead with his two fingers. He also said something I did not comprehend, but after he mentioned it, I saw a bright light while my eyes were closed. In addition, my forehead appeared as clean white paper.
I sat there for a long time motionless, maybe I fell asleep, but I think not. When I opened my eyes, the room was empty. I came out of the prayer room, and asked someone what time it was, and was told it was almost 10.00 am, which meant breakfast time was over. I had to forgo my breakfast but I did not care, because inwardly I felt happy and joyful in such a way that I never quite experienced.
That same day, I also learned physical yoga from Animanandaji. Specifically Hata-Yogas like the lotus position, bow position, neck stand headstand and various ‘asanas’ which gave me the strength I never realized I had.
Although, I enjoyed learning Hata-Yoga, I wanted to learn more breathing techniques, but I was somehow afraid to ask Girenda. I kept on practicing whatever I learned, and after some time, I believe I became much quieter and more focused. This resulted in me becoming an above-average student, who was involved with the overall management of the school, while at the same time eager to mentor younger students. I also started to stay away from quarrels and learned to ignore things that did not involve me.
My residency in Yogoda Brahmachajya Vidyalay ended with my graduation from the West Bengal secondary school system. It was sad to leave the school and my dear teacher Girenda, who I eventually referred to as Swamiji, but at the same time I felt like I was ready for any challenges that laid ahead of me.
Sometime in 1954, Swamiji left the school and went to seclusion. Around the same time, I went to Serampur College under Calcutta University, and after that to a technical college, Then, I left home, my parents and India to West Germany to study engineering. Â At the same time, I lost contact with Swamiji.
Throughout the next 50 years, my career as an engineer took me to the four corners of the world. Like any professional, I faced many challenges which on the surface seemed unsurmountable. What got me thru these moments was the teachings of my dear Swamiji. Though he was physically not beside me, like he was in Ranchi, his omnipresence was always felt. There were many occasions, when faced with particularly difficult challenges, I would close my eyes and feel Swamijii’s presence, and a sense of calm would come over me reminding me that everything was going to be just fine.
After some time, I decided that I needed to track down Swamiji. I was amazed to find out that my dear Swamiji was still alive and living in an ashram in Lakhanpur, India. He was still active with managing a school that taught the very same principles I learned while at Ranchi.
In 2004, I returned to India to visit Swamiji — this time with my wife, daughter and son. At that time he was 102 years old, physically well but semi blind. Fifty years had passed from the last time we met, but nonetheless Swamiji could remember not only who I was but also intricate details of my time at Ranchi. At my request Swamiji agreed to initiate me into Kriya Yoga which is a higher breathing technique. I had officially become a kriyaban. A few years after our reunion, Swamiji left his physical form but thanks to the practice of Kriya Yoga he taught me, I am still able to “tune†in to his advice, guidance and blessing.
(Dipti Prokash Roy is retired engineer, based in Cleveland, Ohio. During a professional career spanning half a century, he worked for a number of global companies, including Nestle and Pillsbury.)