AYURVEDAGRAM

AYURVEDAGRAM
Looking Bangalore, Talking Kerala
By Sonia Nazareth

Welcome to AyurvedaGram, a board says, as I drive down a bumpy path. The next three kilometres I’m praying that good things will come to she who journeys over the rough road. And then I see it. A palace. A lotus pond. A herb garden.

I wait in the reception for the physician. As I sit on the wooden swing, I admire this 160-year-old palace of the royal house of Aranmula with its beautifully carved teak entrance. The receptionist tells me that it has been transported from Kerala, tiles, doors, columns and all. Four wings form a courtyard that opens to the sky. “Typically one wing was used for storage, another for sleeping.” I’m getting ready to ask about the antique snake boat I can see, when the consulting physician calls me in.

The physician smiles in welcome and asks me several questions about my prakruti (constitution) and vikruti (medical history). “I don’t have any illness,” I protest mildly. She beams: “The therapy here is given both to cure various ailments as well as to improve general health.” I suppose I fall into the ‘improve general health’ category.
6.15 am next morning. My alarm goes off like an obedient slave. I crawl out of bed and into my sneakers. Soon I’m ready for a walk on paved pathways through the herbal gardens surrounding my room. Following the schedule given by my physician on the first day, I wonder how long I’ll last, running around pretty plants and lotus ponds at a time when I’m usually creeping home bleary-eyed. The birds chirping in the trees have seen many like me struggle to settle into a rhythm of rejuvenation.

“Ayurveda is a culture, a lifestyle,” Colonel K Krishnan, the managing director, informs me over a vegetarian breakfast. “Too many people run the extra mile only when threatened with a bypass, or when trying to get into a little black dress before a party. But it’s hard to go from zero to hundred in minutes. It’s important to follow the prescribed routine.”

And yet the routine is flexibly regimented. A woman must exercise her own free will. So while nursing checks are regular, the option to gulp down the bitter crushed herbs under the beady eye of a nurse ultimately lies with you. But after four days and eight swallows, there is something robustly affirmative about taking care of the self.
My routine nursing check complete, my blood pressure normal, I make for Yoga in the 160-year-old cultural hall. Seated in the lotus position on a white mat under mammoth wooden pillars is Yogacharya Mohanty. Never having performed asanas before, I quake as I take the last mat, so that my Yoga posture will not come under too much scrutiny. But it turns out to be simple. Each guest is required to perform asanas only to the extent that is possible for her.

An Irish boy with several ear studs grins cheekily and says, “I’ve seen Yogacharya do all sorts of complex twists.” Mohanty chides him, “People come here expecting me to be standing on my head all the time. But while Yoga may be used to stretch and strengthen the muscles, it can also be used to relax the nerves. Even sleep can be Yoga.”

Next on my printed schedule is Massage therapy. The treatment room has a no-fuss air. The only frill is on the apron of one of my two masseuses. I’m lying on a droni, a treatment table made out of a single log of heartwood in skimpy disposable underwear. A gas stove, a basin and a tub of oil are the sole voyeurs in this room. Two masseuses bend over me and in coordinated dance-like movements give me a synchronised massage called Abhayanga. As the masseuse rubs my body with medicated herbal oils over the next 45 minutes, she informs me that according to classical texts, this massage is to be undergone daily to halt the degenerative process of ageing. Drenched in oil, new knowledge and smelling like a forest, I’m forced to bathe after each treatment. There’s someone to clean my ears and scrub my back. “Can I wash my own toes?” I ask tentatively. Rubbed down with homemade salts, I come out of the bathroom relaxed and ready to take on the world.

What I actually take on is Pranayam. My shallow city breathing is exposed but I go at it wholeheartedly. And soon I’m doing Kapaalbhati, Naadishuddhi and Brahmari like a seasoned exponent and I don’t care whose watching anymore.

The activities of the morning behind me, I’ve worked up enough of an appetite for lunch. Colonel Krishnan joins me at the table facing the lotus pond and observes, “People come here with different kinds of ailments, gastric and emotional indigestions. But all problems can be treated with the multidimensional approach to health care that AyurvedaGram follows.” He is as fervent about the necessity of attending Meditation sessions for the mind as he is about drinking warm water at mealtimes for the body. “Warm water aids digestion,” he says. Full of philosophy and stories that never outstay their welcome, he’s a good person to chat up.

As I dig into wholesome vegetarian fare, a chef is hovering around, anxious to serve the fruit salad dessert on cue. I tell him that the white pumpkin soup is sensational. Before I can say “thoughtful man”, I find a piece of paper with the recipe written on it tucked into my file.

After lunch I wander off to the library. It is situated above the day rooms for casual visitors to AyurvedaGram. And I see a couple with their heads down. At first glance they appear to be meditating. But then I realise they are, um, more intimately engaged. I select a book on Yoga and they fade into the backdrop of earthy-red terracotta roofs, clear blue skies, timber houses and green herbal plants swirling around us.

“The herbal steam bath improves peripheral circulation,” I am told by my attentive physician when she visits my room to check that everything is alright. “It augments the elimination of impurities in the system through excretory and secretory outlets such as the sweat glands, the liver and the kidneys,” she tells me handing me my herbal tea. The minute she leaves I make for the loo, which is a fenced-in outdoor bathroom open to the sky. Nothing like flushing out the toxins while watching the grass grow.

The evening massage is Shirodhara. I make my way to the treatment and health centre, a classic house with a ridged roof that resembles the shape of snake boats popular in the region. En route I bump into CEO Sanjoy Mohanty. “Massage is an integral part of the therapy here and must not be viewed in isolation,” he cautions.
The massage takes 30 minutes. A continuous stream of herbal medicated oils flows steadily over my forehead. A voice intones from an oily plait, “Shirodhara will tune up your brain, improve your memory, prevent neurological ailments and insomnia.”

But it’s not all rejuvenation and no play. Some evenings after a good dose of de-tox, a lecture is arranged on Yoga or Ayurveda. On other occasions soothing Indian classical music is played in the Cultural Hall. Some evenings Kathakali dancers gyrate around us as we tuck into our gulab jamuns. Today I skip the Batman and Robin flick that’s being screened and run on the treadmill in the outdoor gym instead.

The light is dimming over this Ayurvedic village. I make my way for dinner through the herbal gardens, past the lit-up fountain. Seven-tiered stone lamps, snake boats and bullock carts gleam as I swish past. Each with an interesting story to recount. Of the woman who got relief from psoriasis. Of the man who lost 13 kg. Of the snake that was killed by the gutsy gardening maiden.

Next morning the time has come to say goodbye. I collect my discharge summary, which contains follow-up recommendations. I vow to continue with Yoga and exercise. To drink 2 litres of water daily and down some Chyawanprashavaleham before meals. I come away with herbal preparations, but more than that, I’ve come away with perspective. From possibly the first holiday of my life that’s left me healthy, not hung over.

About Ayurvedagram

Rated as one of the country’s top spas, AyurvedaGram is an Ayurvedic village. It has 12 acres of land in Whitefield, upon which entire dismantled antique buildings and structures from around Kerala have been relocated.
Always on call is the resident Ayurvedic physician. Also on the premises are therapists, a dispensary, Yoga and Meditation centre, residential cottages and a vegetarian restaurant — all under the personalised attention of trained staff. The treatment centre has separate sections and therapists for men and women. Each section has doctors’ consulting rooms, treatment rooms and steam baths. Sensitivity has been shown in the development of the project and the health care centre feels less like a hospital and more like a resort.

The visitors’ book is replete with comments such as “a nice Therapeutic and Curative Experience… Excellent Ambience and Courteous staff” and “A great experience… We found it easy to relax, reflect and rejuvenate here” (that was CK Prahlad, the management guru).

Treatments And Tariffs

When you arrive at AyurvedaGram Heritage Wellness Centre, you undergo a detailed examination by a resident medical doctor. On the basis of this, a specific treatment package is designed for you. The ailments for which treatment is offered include spondylitis, arthritis, ulcers, rheumatism, diabetes, back problems, cholesterol and gastric disorders, obesity and depression.

Standard treatment packages include Panchakarma detoxification, Stress Management, Weight Reduction, Yoga and Meditation, Rejuvenation, Spine and Joint Care, Lifestyle Disease Management and Old Age Care. These packages extend over 7/ 14/ 21 days, the details and prices of which are available on request.

Rejuvenation and Stress Management packages are available for the healthy. 24-hr stay tariff: Rs 3,550 (single) and Rs 6,050 (double). This includes the complete routine from consultation with the physician to massage, Yoga, steam bath, use of gym, vegetarian cuisine, etc.

Rejuvenating Ayurveda Experience: 2N/ 2D Package costs Rs 7,050 (single), Rs 11,900 (double); 7N/ 8D Package costs Rs 56,525 (single), Rs 93,065 (double).

Satvik Day Tour from 9 am to 4.30 pm, at a charge of Rs 1,460 per person, is available for those who want to simply spend a day at the AyurvedaGram.

The Therapists

Resident doctors as well as the therapists and masseuses have all been trained by Keraleeyam’s parent company, Kerala Ayurveda Pharmacy Ltd, which is the largest manufacturer and exporter of Ayurvedic medicines in Kerala. The company is a major force in health care with two Ayurveda hospitals and over 31 clinics spread nationwide — treating a variety of ailments using more than 350 pure herb formulations. It has one of the largest medicinal herb plantations in the country with a collection of more than 1,200 organically cultivated herbs including certain rare spices.

The treatment offered at AyurvedaGram is the culmination of over 100 years of hands-on experience in Ayurvedic healing. Besides the massage persons, therapists and physicians, there are resident Yogacharyas trained at Vivekananda Yoga Kendra who conduct personalised sessions on Yoga, Meditation and Pranayam.