Sadhguru!

Ever since I first found a speech by Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev and was turned into a fan, I feel a need periodically to bask in his pronouncements. I see it’s around twenty months since he was last on this blog. Sometimes, even when he’s speaking in English, I have barely a clue what he’s talking about and am forced (metaphorically) to run to keep up; but the sound and rhythm of his speaking relaxes me.

In today’s treat he is sitting and addressing rank after rank of devotees, talking about Yugas which I gather to be epochs, and more than that I can’t tell you. I am ignorant as a babe in arms. Perhaps when/if I retire I shall find the time to learn more about Hinduism. Meanwhile …

The atmosphere is highly ceremonial, and not just because of the periodic emergence of sitar music which has obviously been dubbed in. He begins with a chanted prayer, but then he always does that – it’s his version of what I call a James Bond opening; and when the chanting morphs into speech there remains a sense of ritual, a set piece. His delivery is part intoned, part spontaneous.

Though I itch to close my eyes and just immerse myself in the words, the sound, the atmosphere, I remain one who studies every detail of public speaking and therefore always has a part of me analysing the mechanics. For instance there’s something slightly incongruous about his wearing a wristwatch – and that wristwatch in particular. Not for a second would I deny him the right to a wristwatch: it just seems in this environment to clash with the image being projected by that beautiful robe.

Speaking of the robe (it’s not the same as in that ‘still’ you can see above), it may be beautiful but it keeps slipping down and exposing his left nipple. Not for a second would I deny him a left nipple, but the robe-slippage seems to bother him a little.

Actually in the process of constantly having to adjust his clothing he occasionally gives us a glimpse of the control box to the radio mic that is hidden somewhere in those robes to the right of his left nipple. Its presence would be even more incongruous than the wristwatch, except it is not constantly on show. In fact I suspect that the ranks of devotees never see it – unlike the left nipple. And anyway even without seeing it – the control box – we would work out that something of that nature would need to be about his person.

Despite my pathological inability to enjoy this without also registering such details, I find the whole thing hypnotic. What a wonderfully relaxing and spiritually refreshing way to spend the best part of an hour!

There are at least another dozen in this series.

 

 

 

 

 

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