July 2025 | Raga/Attachment

Om Namah Sivaya

Blessed Self,

Swamiji always reminded us that without the Guru’s grace nothing is possible on the spiritual path. He lived his life as an example by attributing everything that he did to his master, Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj. This month we took the opportunity to further the restoration of Swamiji’s Guha (the cave in Gangotri) by installing his favourite idols which were used by him for his daily practices during his time in the cave.

We did our best to restore the cave with sensitivity so that it will remain a place which can be regularly used for sadhana. We also added a satsang hall, kitchen, and three rooms for sadhakas, with the idea of bringing TTC and Yoga Vacation students from our ashram in Netala, Uttarkashi for satsang at present, and then, in future, also bring students from other locations on a regular basis in the season and when cave can be easily accessed.

South Indian priests and Stapatis conducted a wonderful Pratishta (installation) of Lord Ganesha, Subramanya with Valli and Devayani, Ayyappa, Hanuman, Kaliya Mardhana Krishna, Goddess Durga, and the entire set of Navagrahas. Afterwards, for the first time ever, eleven priests from the Mother Ganga temple in Gangotri conducted three days of intense Vaastu Puja and purification rituals for the entire building and the cave. A carpenter from South India constructed beautiful new altars. The cave has now turned into a real place of sadhana and we are satisfied that Swamiji would be happy to see his sadhana place restored after a long time, and to see regular activities occurring there.

We have also remained inspired to continue our ongoing improvements for the guests and students in all of our locations. Swamiji always reminded us that guests are God and that when you take care of them, you receive motivation for your own practice and purpose in life.

We thank all of you immensely for returning to us for the pure teachings offered in our locations.

We request all of you to join us in following the footsteps of Swamiji, offering your sincere prayers to end the present conflicts in the Middle East. Our Guru, Swami Vishnudevanandaji constantly advocated and prayed for peace in that region.

May Master and Swamiji’s blessings be with you always.

Pranams,

Prahlada
Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Ashrams & Centres, India

Detail from Ring for Two People, 1980, Otto Künzli.

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July 6 – Ekadasi
July 10 – Full Moon
July 10 – Guru Poornima
July 14 –Master’s Mahasamadhi
July 21 – Ekadasi
July 24 – New Moon

July 20 to Aug 16, 2025
Uttar Kashi, Himalayas

Aug 17 to Sep 13, 2025
Gudur, Andhra Pradesh

Sep 14 to Oct 11, 2025
Uttar Kashi, Himalayas

For more details, click here

October 16-29, 2025

Uttarkashi, Himalayas
For more details, click here

July 16 to 30, 2025,
Neyyar Dam, Kerala

Aug 1 to 15, 2025,
Neyyar Dam, Kerala

For more details, click here

Aug 18 to 28, 2025,
Uttarkashi, Himalaya – Bhaja Govindam

Sept 2 to 12, 2025,
Uttar Kashi, Himalayas – Tattva Bodha

For more details, click here

Yoga is the practice of bringing the body to a state of perfect balance, and in the language of Ayurveda, this can be understood as a state of purity or sattva attained by indulging in sattvic practices. Diet is one of the ways we can focus on to attain a sattvic state of body and mind. A yogic diet emphasises purity (sattva), balance, and alignment with nature’s rhythms. Consuming whole and natural foods in their most original form is considered to have maximum sattvic properties due to their high energetic and uplifting effect on our body and mind.

Whole and natural foods primarily nourish the physical, energy body and the mind with their uplifting vibrations that bring about mental clarity and emotional balance. Whole foods, including fresh and natural foods such as fruits, vegetables, grains, nuts, seeds, and legumes, contain high prana. Consuming such foods regularly highly supports physical health, mental and emotional stability and longevity with a focus on spiritual awareness.

Whole & natural foods that promote harmony and clarity for an ongoing, stable yoga practice include:

• Grains that are grounding, nourishing & enhance Ojas include brown rice, quinoa & whole wheat. Grains in sprouted form are even higher in prana.
• Nuts and seeds that build tissue (dhatus) and sustain energy. Almonds, flaxseeds, and sesame are all high prana foods, and in pre-soaked form, they are even more high vibration foods.
• Fresh fruits that are purifying, hydrating and sattvic, such as apples, papaya & figs.
• Vegetables, especially leafy greens, are highly detoxifying, fibre-rich and most of them are tri-doshic. Sun-ripened vegetables are even higher in prana energy.
• Legumes that are protein-rich, balancing and stabilising and include mung dal, lentils & chickpeas
• Milk builds ojas when organic and fresh.
• Herbs & spices enhance agni (digestive fire) and support doshic balance. High in prana, herbs and spices include turmeric, cumin, coriander and fennel.

A woman’s menstrual cycle is dominated by the rise and fall of female hormones estrogen and progesterone in its four distinct phases. In the context of Ayurveda physiology, the phase of rise in feminine hormones is understood as the ‘Brahmana’ phase, which is the phase where body tissues can be built, nourished, strengthened and energised. In the scientific understanding, it is the anabolic or tissue-building phase. The other phase of fall of female hormones is understood as the ‘Langhana’ phase, where the body is naturally lightening, detoxifying, purifying and releasing. This is the catabolic or cleansing and reducing phase for the female body.

Ayurveda and Yoga philosophy, therefore, suggest the modification of diet in these phases to best support the body for its natural capabilities in these building and detoxifying phases of the monthly cycle.

Menstruation Phase: The menstruation phase starts on the first day of menstruation and lasts till nearly day five.

This is the time when the hormones estrogen and progesterone are at their lowest. The fall in hormones during this phase is the ‘Langhana’ phase according to Ayurveda where the dominant energy is that of cleansing in the body. The diet in this phase must be light and warm to support this natural cleansing action. A gentle detox with juices and khichri can support the body immensely during this phase. Since this is the time when the body loses a lot of blood, going high on iron-rich foods can support feminine energy drastically in this phase of the cycle. This is also the time to rest, relax and shift the focus inwards to not interfere with the body’s natural detox process.

Follicular Phase: The follicular phase starts on the sixth day of menstruation and lasts till nearly day 14 of the cycle. This is the time when hormones estrogen and progesterone begin to rise again. The rising curve of hormones during this phase is the ‘Brahmana’ phase according to Ayurveda where the dominant energy is that of building ojas and supporting hormonal health in the body. The diet in this phase must be nourishing with generous use of ghee, coconut oil or other cold-pressed oils that lubricate and nourish the body while supporting the building of body tissues and hormones. A balance of gentle yoga practices and grounding rituals during this phase can naturally support the building of body tissues during this time of the cycle.

Ovulation Phase: The ovulation phase starts nearly on the fourteenth day of menstruation and is the peak time of ‘Brahmana’ phase, where the hormones estrogen and progesterone are at their peak. This is the phase when a woman is most fertile, radiant and energetic self. This is also the time when she needs maximum energy through her diet to maintain her energy, strength and ojas. Foods like complex carbohydrates, whole grains and protein-rich foods with a generous amount of ghee can deeply nourish and support her in this phase of her cycle. She must focus on maintaining ojas in this phase with foods like ghee, dates, almonds, and coconut to be her most creative self physically, mentally and emotionally. This is also the time she can modify her exercise and yoga practices to bring in more strength training and intense workouts.

Luteal Phase: The Luteal phase starts on the 15^th to 17^th day (depending on the person) of menstruation and lasts till nearly day 28^th of the cycle. This is the time when hormones estrogen and progesterone begin to fall again. The falling curve of hormones during this phase is a subtle transition from ‘Brahmana’ to the ‘Langhana’ phase, where the energy gradually begins to decline with a decline in the female hormones. During this time body needs support for the hormone progesterone with a lot of relaxation practices combined with foods that support progesterone in the early phases of the cycle. In the later phase nearly around the time when the body is ready for blood lot of focus must be exerted on warm and detoxifying meals like soups, khichadi and vegetable stews.

Vyasa had witnessed the impermanence of all things. Empires that once stood proud and mighty crumbled into dust; families, once united in love, were torn apart by fate’s cruel hand; and even those closest to him—his friends, his teachers, and his loved ones—eventually passed from this world. Time, like an unseen river, swept all things forward, unbothered by the tears of those caught in its current. Yet, for all its power, time seemed elusive, intangible, and elusive. It did not seem to slow, nor did it turn back to revisit what was lost. Vyasa, puzzled and troubled by this truth, found himself wondering, why does time take away? Why does everything we cherish fade away in its wake?

One day, as Vyasa meditated beneath the vast, eternal branches of a banyan tree, he sensed a presence-a presence so profound that it still the air around him.
The winds ceased their movement, the earth seemed to pause in its breath, and from the distance, Lord Shiva emerged, the god of transformation, destruction, and rebirth. His presence was both comforting and awe-inspiring, as if the entire cosmos stood in reverence before him.

“Vyasa,” Shiva’s voice resonated deeply, reverberating like an echo of the universe itself, “You seek to understand time. But can any of us truly grasp it?”

Vyasa, humbled by Shiva’s words, bowed before him. “I have witnessed time take away everything—kingdoms crumble, people age, and memories fade like smoke. What is this force, Shiva? What is time? Why does it feel like we are always losing something, no matter how dearly we hold onto it?”

Shiva’s eyes, filled with the eternal knowledge of the cosmos, softened. “Come with me, Vyasa, and I shall show you.”

With a subtle wave of his hand, Shiva led Vyasa into a realm beyond the physical world, a place where time itself flowed in an entirely different way. Vyasa saw before him the great Yugas, the cosmic ages that shaped the very fabric of existence. First, he saw the Satya Yuga, the age of truth, where righteousness reigned supreme, and harmony prevailed. Then came the Treta Yuga, when truth began to fade, and the seeds of conflict took root. The Dvapara Yuga followed, marked by the rise of strife, and finally, the Kali Yuga, the age of darkness and confusion, where humanity struggles to find balance and peace. Each age folded into the next, flowing seamlessly like waves upon the ocean, never-ending, yet ever changing.

As Vyasa watched, he saw the dance of life itself—civilisations rising, only to fall; individuals born, living, and fading away; the struggles and triumphs of both gods and men, all unfolding within the vast, cyclical rhythm of time. Time, it seemed, was both the creator and the destroyer. It gave birth to worlds, yet it also brought them to their end. It nurtured the growth of all things, yet it also caused them to wither and decay. Time did not discriminate—it touched all, regardless of station, wisdom, or power.

But then, Shiva revealed something even more profound—the cosmic dance. In the form of Nataraja, Shiva danced with such grace and power that Vyasa felt as though the universe itself was caught in its rhythm. Every movement of Shiva’s limbs spun the very fabric of existence into being, while simultaneously consuming it. Stars were born and died, and worlds came into existence and were obliterated, all with each of Shiva’s graceful steps.

“Vyasa,” Shiva’s voice echoed softly, “Time is not something to fear. It is the dance of creation and destruction. It is the rhythm of life itself, and without it, nothing would have meaning.”

Vyasa stood in awe, his mind expanding with the understanding of what he had witnessed. He realized that time was not a simple, linear force that could be measured or predicted. It was not just the ticking of a clock or the passing of days. Time was the dance of the cosmos—an eternal, cyclical rhythm that gives birth to life and takes it away again, only to create anew. It was not the enemy, but the very essence of existence itself.

Shiva continued, his voice gentle but filled with deep wisdom, “Time is the teacher of all things. It brings everything into existence, but it also teaches us the impermanence of all things. Life is a fleeting moment, Vyasa. Everything that is born must one day fade away. But this is not a curse; it is the beauty of existence. Without time’s passing, there would be no change, no growth, no renewal. Time invites us to live fully in each moment, for it is in the fleeting nature of life that we find its greatest value.”

Vyasa felt a profound shift within himself. The fear of time’s passing began to fade, replaced by a deep sense of acceptance and peace. He now understood that time was not a thief—it was the very pulse of life. Every moment, however brief, was a chance to experience the fullness of existence. Each breath, each heartbeat, was part of a cosmic rhythm, one that linked all beings in an eternal dance.

As Vyasa returned to the world of men, he carried with him this wisdom, and it shaped the way he lived and taught. He began to write the Mahabharata, not only as a story of kings and warriors but as a meditation on the nature of time itself. His epic was a reminder to all who read it: life is fleeting, but that is what makes it beautiful. Time does not take away—it teaches, transforms, and renews. It is the eternal rhythm of creation, destruction, and rebirth.

In the end, the story of Vyasa and Shiva invites us all to reflect on our relationship with time. Time, with all its changes, challenges, and impermanence, is not to be feared but embraced. It is the great teacher, the dance of existence itself, and in its flow, we find the true meaning of life.

The Bhand Deva Temple, built inside the 4 km wide Ramgarh crater, formed by the impact of a meteor, and dedicated as a National Geological Monument sits by a quiet ridge in Ramgarh, Rajasthan. Far from the gilded domes of better-known shrines, rests Bhand Deva, a thousand-year-old temple to Lord Shiva that has survived wars, wind, and time. Built entirely from stone found within the crater, not for spectacle, but as a whispered offering, this temple carries the scent of devotion untouched by modern noise.

Historically traced to the 10th century, Bhand Deva was commissioned by Raja Malaya Verma of the Nag dynasty, following a victorious campaign. But rather than raising a fort or declaring his legacy in stone, the king offered his gratitude to Lord Shiva, his ishta devata, through sacred architecture. A century later, in 1162 A.D., the temple was restored by Raja Trisna Verma of the Med dynasty, preserving the sanctum and its traditions in an age when kingdoms rose and fell swiftly.

The temple follows the Nagara style defined by a curving shikhara (spire), a garbhagriha (sanctum), and a sabha mandapa (assembly hall). Yet it’s true soul lies not in symmetry but in spirit. When one walks into the mandapa, he is greeted by eight massive pillars, each carved with vivid forms: Yakshas, Apsaras, Vidyadharas, and celestial couples. These aren’t merely decorative idols; they are the echoes of the tantric Shaiva tradition that once flourished across early medieval India.

Often referred to as ‘mini Khajuraho’, this place has the carvings that depict the sacred and sensual dancers’ mid-movement, lovers intertwined, guardians standing still yet fierce. This is not a temple of fear or erotism. It is a space where God feels near, as a playful and intimate human-like being. Where Shiva is not just the destroyer, but also the beloved who is in stillness and as the listener himself. Locals still tell stories of Bhand Deva as if it breathes, as the whole temple itself is a living body, and the deity is the soul living in it.

Elders speak of a glow that appears within the sanctum on certain full moon nights, though no lamps are lit there these days. Unlike the towering temples of Udaipur or the marble of Ranakpur, Bhand Deva doesn’t demand reverence. It invites gently. It doesn’t need rituals to feel sacred. Its silence is the ritual. Its stones are the scriptures. For the modern seeker, whether a pilgrim, a historian, or just a wanderer, Bhand Deva isn’t just a temple; it is rather a catalyst that opens the door to different realms in their hearts and minds. The kind of faith that outlives fame. This place reminds us that devotion can be quiet. That God still lives in places the maps have forgotten. And that sometimes, the most powerful prayers are carved, not spoken.

In a world where spiritual practices have become increasingly structured, outcome-driven, and, at times, performative, it is easy to forget the simplicity that once defined devotion. We fast, we chant, we meditate, but how often do we pause to ask why we are doing all of this? Recognition? Inner peace? Or, perhaps, has the practice itself become an object of attachment?

While thinking about this month’s topic, I was reminded of a story that my grandmother once shared with me. It’s a folk tale passed down in Vaishnava lineage not written in any scripture, but alive in memory, and is often retold in evening kirtans or sometimes just over a warm cup of chai. And like many tales, it carries a truth that’s far deeper than its simplicity suggests.

The story takes us to an old ashram where great scholars and swamis once lived. These were men of high learning, fluent in the Vedas, skilled in rituals, and accomplished in yogic practices. It was said that some among them could invoke blessings with a single utterance of Tathāstu. The world saw them as enlightened.

Among them lived a young man named Krishna Das; a simple soul, often ridiculed and dismissed as a fool. He had little aptitude for scripture and routinely failed examinations in the shastras. But he had one quality that no one else in the ashram seemed to possess: an unwavering, tender love for Lord Krishna. It was not intellectual or theological. It was emotional, even maternal at time, the kind of love that doesn’t demand reciprocation, only presence.

By some twist of fate or perhaps Prabhu’s leela, Krishna Das was appointed the daily task of offering food to the deity. To the others, this was a small, mechanical duty. But to him, it was sacred. Each day, he would carry the bhog into the sanctum and sit for hours, pleading with the Lord to eat. He would speak to the deity as one would to a beloved child; gently calling him names like Lalla and Gopala, occasionally scolding, and always loving.

Naturally, this drew attention. The senior monks began to whisper: Why did he stay inside for so long? Was he neglecting his duties? Talking to the murti? Laughing alone?

One evening, a few of them decided to investigate. As they approached the sanctum, they heard laughter and not the deranged giggle they had imagined, but warm, joyful laughter, as though shared among old friends. Curious and unsettled, they pushed open the doors. What they saw left them speechless. Seated before Krishna Das were none other than Lord Krishna; radiant and alive, accepting food from his hand, laughing at his stories, responding to his affection with divine delight.

It is said they stood there frozen, not just in awe, but in quiet self-reflection. Years of rigorous tapasya, Vedic recitation, and philosophical debate had brought them knowledge, status, even mystical abilities, but not this. Not present. Not darshan. Because Krishna Das had not been seeking darshan. He had not been seeking anything. He simply wanted to feed his beloved. This story, whether fact or metaphor, offers a piercing truth: that attachment to the outcome of our practice can often obscure the essence of it. The great swamis were attached to enlightenment. Krishna Das was attached to Krishna.

In today’s world, spirituality is often approached with the same mindset as worldly ambition. How many rounds have I chanted? How many fasts have I completed? How deep is my meditation? How many asanas have I mastered? These are not wrong questions, discipline has its place, but when practice becomes a ladder to climb rather than a garland to offer, we lose something vital. Perhaps this is what my grandmother meant to teach me: that there is a kind of devotion that asks for nothing but the chance to love. And perhaps that is the kind of devotion the Divine finds hardest to resist.

As you sit for your daily practice this month, surrender to God (or whatever you believe in) and repeat:

Kāyena vācā manasendriyaiḥ vā

buddhyātmanā vā prakṛteḥ svabhāvāt

karomi yadyat sakalaṁ parasmai

nārāyaṇāya iti samarpayāmi

(It is an offering mantra that we often repeat after completing any task, simply to dedicate all to Lord Nārāyaṇa, surrendering actions and also the fruits of all actions in his divine feet)

Or maybe just sit in stillness and ask yourself gently: Am I here to receive something or simply to be with the One I love?