Ed Templeton

“You can’t surf in India!”. Ishita, India’s first and only female surfer, laughs as she recounts her reaction on discovering the ‘Surfing Swamis’ ashram nearly two years ago. Her intrigue overcame that prevailing sentiment and now my girlfriend and I are sharing a huge, post-surf breakfast with undergraduate Ishita and our host, surf ashram manager, Daruka Das. India’s 4700 mile coastline remains virtually un-surfed but the Hare Krishna devotees at the Kaliya Mardana Krishna Ashram in Karnataka are doing their bit to remedy this. Their Guru, Swami Narasingha, who grew up surfing in 1960‘s Florida, established this coastal outpost to his main Ashram four years ago and for the last two years they have welcomed paying guests whilst altruistically engaging with local village kids and colleges, sharing surf knowledge, guidance, boards and their infectious love of the ocean. The herculean effort of our passage from Delhi, south toward the city of Mangalore eased as soon as we branched off the maniacal coastal highway and became enveloped by the quiet elegance of rural India. The narrow lane skirts paddy fields fringed with coconut palms, winding toward the ocean-blue Ashram gazing westward to the Arabian Sea. The bustle of Indian travel was mollified by the warmth of Daruka’s welcome and the strains of our journey dissolved as we paddled into the gentle, analgesic warmth of the tropical sea. We surf early, before breakfast, before the sea-breeze and the heat of the day stifles our endeavor and we have the six mile stretch of palm fringed, pale powdery beach to ourselves. The odd local uses it as a thoroughfare, transporting teetering loads atop their heads, but with no indigenous beach culture to speak of and no other tourists, this archetypal tropical paradise is empty. In fact the only crowd we encounter during our entire stay is a breathtaking flock of thirty brown-winged, white-bellied fish-eagles taking turns to spiral upward 50 feet or more before plummeting into the sea to snatch their prey, only yards from our boards. The waves here are gentle at this time of year and the atmosphere relaxed amongst our small surfing band - a Swami, some disciples, Ishita, my girlfriend and I.  From beginners to experts, we are catalysed by Daruka’s glowing enthusiasm, encouragement and desire to spread his obvious joy of surfing. We whoop and whistle one another onto the small waves rolling eastwards, chatting, laughing and playing. Can you imagine getting a hoot, a grin and a thumbs up from a Priest, Mullah or Rabbi as you glide past him on a wave? Surfing with a Swami was never on my list of things to do before I die, but if it’s not on yours I would heartily recommend the addition. Once driven shorewards by hunger the afternoons drift and sway in a delicious languor through post-prandial dozes, reading, gentle bike rides and easy conversation with the devotees. “I landed in India with two surf boards to meet friends from back home in San Diego intending to surf and backpack. I never imagined I’d be here two and a half years later a Krishna Devotee… It just kinda grew on me….” Daruka muses as we sit on the dock watching local families wade through the shallow lagoon scooping clams from the mire for supper. Trips up river on the Ashram boat, use of kayaks, bikes and skateboards are all on offer but we we’re mostly content to surf in the mornings and laze the afternoons away, basking in the tranquility of Ashram life. Guest numbers are limited to 4 to avoid diluting the primary devotional purpose of the Ashram and are housed in a separate building facing the rear courtyard of the Ashram. The double-rooms are large, comfortable, furnished simply and significantly contain two single beds – celibacy, vegetarianism and alcoholic abstinence are requirements of your time here. Each morning and evening, we are drawn to the small temple room by the alluring melodic chanting (Bhajans) accompanied by mrudanga drum, harmonium, bells and cymbals which build in volume and intensity, culminating in bellowed rounds of the familiar Mantra “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna!” as the devotees’ swaying spirals into dancing. As this ritual becomes familiar I’ve loosened from an intrigued silent observer to a sort of mumble-hum, shuffling participant. Guests are free to watch, join in or just leave the devotees to it and meet up afterwards for Prasadam, another way of honouring Krishna through the cooking, offering and eating of a hearty, delicious meal. Dining together we feel welcomed like family as conversation and laughter flows easily, children to elders, guests to devotees.  The loving, devotional focus on food preparation is manifest in the mouthwatering dishes we devour. A sticky Persian vegetable rice with a spicy, sweet peanut and tomato chutney one evening, lemon rice dotted with cashews and a piquant okra sambar the next whilst a procession of home made jaggery-infused milk desserts, perfumed with locally grown wild vanilla, cloves and cardamom, form the eagerly anticipated crescendo. The surfboard hanging over the dining room door painted with the words “Om Sweet Om” epitomises the relaxed spirituality practiced in this Ashram. This is no brain-washing cult, just a group of devout, spiritual surfers who are keen to share their sanguine way of life with travelers, villagers and local schools alike. © Ed Templeton
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/activityandadventure/7343968/India-Dev...
www.surfingindia.net/ashram-surf-retreat