But sometimes, a place can call to you in a way that feels far more profound and significant than any wide-eyed call to adventure – and more serendipitous than any conscious effort to escape from monotony and routine.
I didn’t go looking for India.
I didn’t need to.
India came looking for me.
It started in the most creative of ways, through music and art. As a teenager, I still recall Kula Shaker’s psychedelic rock album, “K”, filling my airwaves as I drifted on their lyrics of Hindu mysticism whilst immersed in painting vibrant artworks of Shiva, Ganesh, and Krishna. Little did I know that this creative outpouring was a summoning of kinds…a summons that would inevitably take me to the land of these gods I felt inspired to paint.
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After university, I fell into media sales with the intention to save enough money to finally make my way to the East. A year later, at 23 years old, I set off to travel India alone. This experience altered me in ways no other journey had up until this point. It wasn’t just a whistle-stop tour for me, even though I took a three-week excursion, explored the sightseeing hotspots, and immersed myself in every experience from the surreal and unsettling to the stunning and sublime. From the lazy Keralan backwaters and Goa’s sun-splashed beaches to Delhi’s teeming bustle and the historic melting-pot of Kathmandu. Then down from those hurtling mountains and Everest’s mighty peak to the ancient temples of Ahmedabad in Gujarat, onwards to the marvels of Rajasthan’s pink and blue cities of Jaipur and Jodhpur…and everything in between!
However, this incredible cultural assortment meant far more to me than a bucket-list adventure or itinerary checklist. When in Varanasi, a sacred site of pilgrimage, marked as much by death and ritual as it is by life and holiness, I felt like I’d been here before.
India delivered more to me than I had expected.
And seemed to ask more of me too.
The urge to give back to this country began after my touring ended. At this point, I began volunteering in an orphanage in Madurai, Tamil Nadu, and taught children at a local school. This experience proved to be both harrowing and deeply moving. And it inspired me to return to India again.
I made a promise to myself at 23 years old after visiting Dharavi that I would return to India and work in the slums. A desire that was strengthened a year later by the release of one of my favourite films, Slumdog Millionaire, which reminded me of my purpose and my promise.
I kept that promise.
During my second trip, several years later, I based myself in a remote area in Mumbai, where I slept on a mattress on the floor in a nun’s empty flat.
This humble homebase allowed for a one-hour commute to Baiganwadi – the poorest slums in Mumbai with the oldest and largest waste dumping ground.
It was here that I taught English to the resident slum kids. It was such a humbling and hands-on experience, hard work but good work, and I was content despite residing in what others might consider very spartan accommodations. The kids were so full of enthusiasm and fun, they had so little, yet were so happy. What a contrast to the West and its culture of get, get, get. Here I was in the East, roughing it out by Western standards, yet so happy to give, give, give. Sure, the experience had its challenges, but at the end of a hot and demanding day, I could flop down on my tatty little mattress, in my tiny little space, and feel an expansive sense of peace. The polarity struck me as surreal. Considering the social, monetary, and ‘first world’ luxuries I had back home, my heart always felt restless. The Rolling Stones said it best, I couldn’t ‘get no satisfaction’…yet here, where I had none of those familiar privileges or comforts, my heart felt full, content – satisfied.
Along with the deep satisfaction which came from working with these children and connecting with this country, I also found other facets of my personality and interests emerging whilst in India. This included giving tarot readings on the beaches of Goa; volunteering at an animal shelter; as well as starting up a blog named Slumdogspirit – coined and inspired by the movie, my time in the slums, and my love of the spiritual life.
Here I documented my experiences of travelling and volunteering in India; raising awareness for slum children, poverty, and sanitation issues; as well as encouraging people to help animals in need. I also wrote about the mysticism of tarot and spirituality, which dovetailed perfectly with my experiences in the East.
India gave me so much, and it allowed me to give back too – in ways I hadn’t expected when I was an oblivious teenager, singing along to Kula Shaker and canvasing the magical stirrings of the East with paint on paper. Who’d have thought the journey from the comfort of my bedroom to the single mattress in a tiny flat in Mumbai would’ve impacted me so profoundly?
Even when I wasn’t in India, I always felt connected to it.
The Hare Krishna Temple in the UK was a means for me to connect to that feeling again. One of my greatest teachers and best friends, Mahesh, (who is sadly no longer with me in body, but always in spirit) would often frequent the Bhaktivedanta Manor and I cherished both the atmosphere of the Temple and the precious time spent with him.
These visits helped sustain me in the stretches that lapsed between my next trip to India – and it was this last trip to Goa that saw my psychic abilities and mediumship take on a new dimension. Not only was I able to embrace India again with great fondness and memory, but I came away with a strengthened connection to source and a fire in my heart to pursue the spiritual work which has led me to this current path and point in my life.
I will treasure the teachings India blessed me with.
The gifts it gave me as well as the gifts I developed and discovered within myself whilst living, volunteering, and travelling around India’s vast land.
Thank you for reading this part of my journey.
It is my hope to help others chart their own journeys, so that they too can not only get what they need – but give what they discover within themselves along the way.
Dedicated to one of my best friends and teachers, now in the spirit world. I love you Mahesh.
