Up on the Roof
By Colette Crawford

The clamor of a bell, very much like a fire alarm, jolted me from a half sleep where I lay on a grass mat on the cool concrete floor. Fire? I scanned the dusky lit room and saw a white sari slowly stirring on one of the other three grass mats, which filled the small one room flat. Krasna, an alumna of the ashram and fellow devotee of our beloved Guru, Mata Amritananda Mayi Devi, didn’t seem concerned.

“Amma’s on the beach! Amma’s on the beach! Come quick!” I heard an Indian woman shouting from the hall. “Come on, Colette,” Krasna said hastily slipping on her flip-flops,  “This is a once in a lifetime experience!” We dashed out to join the frenzy of bodies scurrying down the narrow stairwell of our 12-story building to the ground floor.

I had arrived at the ashram in the wee hours of the night the day before with no inkling of where I was, however, I was quickly initiated to my surroundings as the crowd swept me outside the ashram walls through the village. Dark skinned Indian men looked up from their work unruffled by the river of bodies streaming by. We turned the corner into a driveway of a beautiful newly constructed building with a sign announcing the name, Amrita Institute of Ayurvedic Medicine. People were tossing their sandals onto a heap and quickly disappearing through the doorway. A warm salty breeze passed over me. I paused to breathe and take in the magnificent view of the Arabian Sea, but there was no stopping to be had. The crowd pushed me from behind towards the door. I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to. We climbed up, floor after floor after floor and finally dispersed onto the rooftop.

The rose-hued sky brilliantly lit up by the sun’s reflection on the sea was warm and welcoming. And then I saw Amma. She sat surrounded by several of her Swamis at the far end of the roof, laughing and talking. Mesmerized, the people ahead of me stopped to watch, but the crowd from the stairwell kept pushing forward, shoving us into the bodies in front. We were like human dominos. My first instinct, which I controlled, was to shove back. “ Hey, we can’t see Amma. You need to sit down,” a woman’s voice bellowed from behind. I turned to see two women, about my height (I’m five foot nine) glowering at me. “If I sit down it won’t make a difference,” I responded. There were more than 60 people in front of me standing too, and I couldn’t see much. “ We all want to see Amma,” the woman whined. My second instinct was to tell her to shut up. Instead I said wryly,  “ Why don’t you come in front of me,” knowing fully well that they wouldn’t be able to see any more than I could. At this point I saw a spacious spot on the far side of the roof and headed towards it. My freedom was short lived as others who were still filling in had the same idea.

I had come to the southern tip of India September of 2003 to participate with 2,000 other Western devotees and a million other people from all walks of life in a world peace conference. We devotees came together to celebrate Amma’s 50 years of living as an example of love, service and peace. Amma has orchestrated many charitable organizations from orphanages to Aims, a state of the art hospital dedicated to serving those in need regardless of their ability to pay, to building hundreds of thousands of free homes for the destitute and homeless throughout India. She also gave one million dollars to the Katrina Hurricane Relief fund. This tiny diminutive woman, the recipient of the 2002 Gandhi/King peace award, immobilizes the most brawny of men.

Soon the crowd began to settle. I couldn’t see Amma fully but my view was enough to feel satisfied.  “Sit down. Sit down! We can’t see Amma,” complained a different woman behind me. “You’re blocking our view!” she continued. Ahead of me I noticed a woman sitting up higher than usual. This woman turned and said apologetically, “I am sitting down. I have a physical limitation so this is as far down as I can get.” But the belligerent woman retorted, “If you can’t sit down like a normal person then you should get up and move to the back!” 

Whoa! What is going on here, I thought!  Some chimed in to defend the handicapped woman while others agreed with the other woman’s complaints. I sat and observed my own feelings, and then began to see the “leela” or play of it all. I saw the opportunity to witness my own anger and violence. What I really wanted to do was slap the complaining woman up side the head and tell her to shut up. Of course I restrained that urge, but I felt it nonetheless.

The sun disappeared into the horizon as we sat into the night chanting and meditating. My heart filled with inspiration from parables narrated by Amma and interpreted by her Swami. The evening was a combination of continual reflection and bliss.

As it began so it ended. Amma sprang lightly from her seat and headed for the door. Like a squall the crowd moved swiftly to follow Amma. What happened next was pure pandemonium. People were shoving and shouting. Sweating bodies encased me. A fierce primal force surged through me. This could escalate and there would be no way to stop it, I thought! And then I saw my fear. I could get lost in it or I could stay sane. Even though I couldn’t control the environment I had a choice. When I felt calm the bodies pushing into me softened. It was a snail’s pace to the stairwell but by the time I got to the doorway the crowd was proceeding civilly.   

Krasna was lying down obviously distressed when I arrived at the flat. She relayed her experience of being crushed against the wall by the crowd unable to breathe. “Isn’t this crazy,” I said. “Here we are at a peace conference and Amma’s devotees (I included myself in this group) are raging lunatics!”  Krasna then reminded me that this was an experience of a lifetime.

It is said that the Guru teaches in unusual ways. Perhaps Amma was preparing us for the conference. Maybe she is saying, “You want to experience peace in a conference? Well it starts from within.” All the nice ceremonies and rituals won’t bring it unless we feel it from within.

In that moment I got it. Now my continued challenge is remembering and putting peace into practice in my daily life.

Om lokaha samastaha sukino bhavantu – May all beings be happy and peaceful.

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