On the east coast of the state of Tamil Nadu, near the erstwhile French
colony of
The aim of the experiment is the functional realization of human unity. Its
name: Auroville.
Auroville was founded in 1968 based on the vision of a French woman of
Turkish-Egyptian descent named Mirra Alfassa, better known during her time in
The Mother had a revelation of Auroville as a place meant to contribute
significantly toward the "progress of humanity towards its splendid future
by bringing together people of goodwill and aspiration for a better
world." Auroville aimed to be a town that expressed humanity’s aspiration
to integral perfection, where creative exploration, active solution-seeking and
open communication were encouraged as means to a better, more harmonious way of
living.
Upon its founding, a handful of soil from each of 124 countries and 23
Indian states was placed into an urn as a symbol of Auroville's communal
spirit. The initial population of this universal township stood at some sixty
people, with plans to accommodate a population of 50,000. Various living and
learning communities were formed with names such as Fraternité, Verité, Shanti,
Aspiration and New Creation, many with open, natural architecture inspired by
buildings designed by Auroville’s principal architect, Roger Anger. Aspiring
new entrants were granted residency by a simple process: The Mother or one of
her closest disciples would look at the aspirant a moment, then nod or shake
their head to indicate 'yes' or 'no.' There was no doubt, only clarity; and it
was in The Mother’s clarity of purpose that Auroville laid down its roots.
When The Mother died in 1973, the Government of India got involved with the
administration of Auroville (The Mother had repeatedly warned of this),
and external regulations entered an environment that had been fluidly evolving
in its own way. As the population grew, Auroville's own internal administrative
system became more structured, not unlike a growing start-up company. With
structure came some organization, but also bureaucracy; a community founded
upon the dynamism of heart-spirit became slowly infiltrated by the rigor of
mind-rules. Still, Auroville continued on, channelling its way through narrow
stretches fuelled by The Mother's dream.
I visited Auroville for the first time earlier this year. I'd previously
only known of it as a place from which high-quality natural products came
(incense sticks, perfumes, soaps), and had heard it described as "a cool
place" where one could live close to nature, explore art and craft, work
as a volunteer on farms, meet interesting people from around the world and
generally be inspired to live a more holistic life.
I had been travelling more compulsively than ever lately, seemingly looking
for a way out of the compression I’d been feeling in Mumbai. Friends returning
to Auroville for a visit invited me to join them.
For two weeks, I lived in an eco-friendly forest hut with no electricity,
bathed outdoors and bicycled everywhere. I ate delicious vegetarian food, often
locally-grown and organic, at Solar Kitchen, the popular communal dining hall
where cooking is largely powered by a massive solar dish. I painted boulders
for a kids' workshop space, helped produce a radio interview for Auroville's
community radio station and worked on the design of a spinning lantern with
Shrandhanjali, a women’s paper handicraft collective. I conducted a poi
workshop for local Tamilian village children, witnessed the magic of
permaculture reforestation at the miraculous
There were some undercurrents of anxiety in the air—an almost tense,
fearful relationship with money, jibes about underpaid, overworked volunteers,
small-town gossip—which, in my breathless euphoria of being in a new place, I
brushed aside. I had a short meditation session at the Matrimandir, a giant,
futuristic golden globe at the center of Auroville representing "the
Divine’s answer to man’s inspiration for perfection," complete with
pristine white carpets, air conditioning and an inner silent meditation chamber
at whose center lies a space-age crystal ball lit from the top by a ray of
sunlight. The Matrimandir from the outside reminded me of the Epcot dome, and
my first experience in Auroville was a bit like a kid's first trip to
Auroville was shiny and exciting, and I decided to return soon for a longer
stay. When I returned a month later—with my cats and all—I had the good fortune
of being presented with all the elements of the "insider experience"
of Auroville.
Instead of living at a guest house I had the opportunity to help look after
an expansive house-and-garden property, built by Roger Anger in Auroville’s
original model community, Auromodele. Located on the periphery of the circular
township, the house and garden had a wonderful energy that felt more expansive,
more Auroville-like than all the many activities I had been playing with on my
first visit. The most beautiful spirits of Auroville I met were the ones who
kept more to themselves, focused on their work and personal growth, and didn’t
invite jealousy, envy or ego into the clean space they had taken so much care
to create.
I was inspired to do less and observe more. By taking care of the house
(writing, cooking, cleaning, maintaining, fixing, arranging), working in the
garden (pruning, planting, watering, trimming, harvesting), interacting with
local Tamil villagers (housemaid, gardener, milkman, electricians, plumbers)
and speaking for many hours each day with a spiritually liberated friend who
was intimately familiar with the works of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother, I felt
as though I was experiencing the true, original heart of Auroville by living
it, rather than looking for it.
In this less-involved, quieter mode, I also had the opportunity to observe
what felt to me like a subcutaneous itch under Auroville’s smooth surface, a
spiritual sickness of sorts that lay beneath the shiny armor. It was the smell
of hot milk right before it boils over and burns. I watched as many aspiring
newcomers—frustrated by their experience of the now wooden and long-drawn
process of becoming Aurovillian—throw their hands up in confused sadness and
walk away.
A South American lady who’d spent over a year of time, energy and money
following the rules of entry to finally gain citizenship was told that she’d
have to start again from scratch if she left Auroville for a few months to
visit her terminally ill father abroad. A second acquaintaince gave up halfway
through, his expectations unmet. Another friend, who’d also spent all his time
and savings on living in and working for Auroville for over a year, was not
only rudely and inexplicably denied citizenship after being led about a complicated
dance of half-communications (on the vague basis that he hadn’t "followed
the rules" to a T), but was not paid a large sum of money previously
agreed upon, sent childish, slanderous emails and third-person messages from
Aurovillians. He was even told that his Indian visa (granted by Auroville)
could be taken away at any moment, and that he’d have to leave the country on a
moment’s notice depending on the administration’s whim. He didn’t understand
what he’d done wrong, and was hurt that no one would come gently and explain
his offense to him directly.
A Dutch friend who’d been living as an Aurovillian for a few years was
tired of giving his time to offer his services to Auroville and not being paid
for it. He had also had some difficult experiences with some of the township’s
new-guard administration. "After a while, everyone who works in (an
Auroville administration unit) becomes a monster. Even a sweet young girl would
turn into a Medusa there," he said. "It sucks the spirit out of you."
After more than 40 years, Auroville’s population remains at 2,170, still
far from the goal of 50,000 residents.
Some original Aurovillians express outrage about the current state of
affairs, some promise action, some form working groups and committees and have
meetings and brainstorming sessions. I didn't feel as though much was actually
getting done beyond nostalgic reminiscing about the old days, or talking about
how things should be. The guardians of The Mother’s dream turned out to
be child soldiers with matchsticks for swords.
I still wanted to be fair, to give Auroville a chance, so I persisted in my
own experience. I was working with an Auroville unit, my efforts for which were
emphatically promised to be "duly compensated." It was emphasized
that I wasn’t there as an unpaid volunteer even though the discussion of actual
monetary amounts seemed to be avoided each time the opportunity arose. My heart
sank each time as promises turned to compromises, as I watched two potential
clients—both also Auroville units—clam up and disappear when issues of money
came up. No offer was ever made to duly compensate me. In a single moment of
maturation, I saw the silken hopes I had clung to all my life turn into the
rough, reliable rope of reality.
After more than 40 years, Auroville’s population stands at 2,170 people.
I felt like I was putting time, love and effort into a golden dream that
was slowly turning to rocks as I awoke. I felt as though this was closer to the
power politics, jealous backstabbing and petty feudalism of a medieval town,
not Sri Aurobindo’s vision of working towards the realization of the
superhuman. As one from the outside world, so to speak, I didn’t understand
what was going on, and no one inside Auroville seemed to want to explain. The
experiment, in my limited understanding, had reached a critical boiling point,
and its subjects were waiting with eyes squeezed shut for the explosion.
There was great joy in feeling that all this was part of the bigger
picture; that these passing phases could be recognized as the inevitable high
and low tides in the unchanging ocean of consciousness. It was in Auroville,
through Auroville, for Auroville that I found the seed of my own unchanging
self. When I left, I felt as though my own experiment had been successful. I
had my own understanding of Auroville in my heart, and could take it with me
wherever I went, with no fear that anyone or anything could take it away.
After a short stint as a resident, Rayna Jhaveri finds all is not perfect
inside
CNN: 23 August 2010
http://www.cnngo.com/mumbai/visit/finding-auroville-diary-insider-experience-795318