Skip to main content


upon completing the thought-process of the divorce from my india love-affair and my feelings on religion and the meaning of life, I bought a new book- "Brida" by Paulo Coelho. In this book I read many things that were scarily close to my own ideas and thoughts.
A new-ager and "spiritually conscious" person might call this "synchronicity". In fact, Deepak Chopra has probably trademarked this term already and is making millions from it... :-)

"I know that we will never know the ultimate reason for our existence. We might know the how, where and when of being here, but the why will always be a question that remains unanswered. The main objective of the Great Architect of the Universe is known to Him alone, and to no-one else"

"Right now, ninety-nine percent of the people on this planet are, in their own way, struggling with that very question. Why are we here? Many think they have found the answer in religion or in materialism. Others despair and spend their lives and their money trying to grasp the meaning of it all. A few let the question go unanswered and live for the moment, regardless of the results of their consequences."

"Only the brave are aware that the only possible answer to the question is I DON'T KNOW. This might, at first, seem frightening, leaving us terribly vulnerable in our dealings with the world, with the things of the world and with our own sense of our existence. Once we have got over that initial fear, however, we gradually become accustomed to the only possible solution:


Having the courage to take the steps we always wanted to take is the only way of showing that we trust in God."

I do realize, however, that to follow one's dreams, one needs a certain level of economic standard and material wealth. If we do not have food, shelter and basic necessities, there is no time or space in the life of a human being to go and search for one's dreams. For me, my dreams were always situated in other, faraway countries, and had I not been enjoying the privilege of being from Sweden, with its social protections, my loving, supportive parents, and my freedom to travel to almost every country in this world due to our political neutrality- I had not been able to do it. A poor, caste-less Indian woman my age will never have the same opportunities as me.

I am one of the very few lucky ones in this world. I can follow my dreams. And I have ben doing so, incessantly, for many years. Lucky, Lucky Me...


  1. Thanks for describing one of the greatest insights i've had after being in India.

    'Having the courage to take the steps we always wanted to take is the only way of showing that we trust in God.'

    Trust on God inside equals the great creative force that underlies the universe or existence i think.

    An act of LOVE is God in disguise.

    Hopefully by following our dreams and fulfilling them we can contribute to the world and people in it who are less lucky then we are.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Linda meets a "real" sadhu on the banks of the Ganges

So it's early morning, before sunrise, in Varanasi. i'm staying at the Yogi lodge in goudalia, the old, smelly, labyrinth of Varanasi old city. my travel companion, Katja, is sleeping sweetly on her thin, stained mattress, bundled up with a trillion dusty blankets.
i'm hunting for a real Aghori baba.
I did my dissertation at uni about the Pashupatas- the really nasty, crazy renunciates, who follow Shiva. they eat dead flesh, they live at the burial grounds, they smear their bodies with ashes from the funeral pyre. they drink water from a human skull, and they behave in different funny, weird ways, to be like Shiva. they scare people and they give respect.
apparently, these sadhus only exist today in Nepal, in the Pasupatinath.
but, I had read and heard, that another, related tribe of sadhus, called "Aghoris", still could be found in Varanasi, close to the burning ghat, where human bodies were burning day and night.

So I was walking, early that morning, toward…

the "fake" aghori baba turns out to be "real"

ok. I wrote this blog a few years ago. the moment was one of December 2008- so a while back.
I was up early, sunrise, just me and the monkeys and the pilgrims and the babas and the chai-wallas...and i guess yeah, it's normal to be up at sunrise in Varanasi, despite the fog, despite the cold- or maybe precisely BECAUSE of these things. No point staying in bed. The monkeys wake us up anyway and it's goddamn freezing, so let's get a warm, energizing chai, and let's pray that we get out of this suffering called life- where it's cold, foggy, and the annoying monkeys steal our bananas.

So I was on the lookout for this type of dude. I had written my dissertation at uni (SOAS, amazing SOAS!) about these kind of babas, admittedly not existent anymore in India, but in Nepal, in the Pashupatinath, yes. I had been told by my Hinduism professor that yes, some of them did still exist in Benares, eating dead flesh, and doing their weird laughing. I love it! How weird and creepy…

getting drunk on absinthe in Bar Marsella

Also called the Green Fairy, from the French- La Fee Verte. Others called it the Green Goddess or the Green Muse.
But the Green Fairy isn't just another name for absinthe; it is a methaphor for artistic transformation and enlightenment. It opens up the mind to a freer state, a place where exploration of poetical pathways and new inspirational ideas can grow wildly. To the Parisian bohemians of late the 1800's, the Green Fairy was a guide into their artistic world, where new, groundbreaking art was created. Absinthe was to the artists of the time what smoking weed was for the hippies in the 60's; their "revolutionairy guide" and what they believed was the substance that "opened their minds".
Artists, poets and writers reached for a glass of the Green Fairy for inspiration to their creative works and during "the green hour", in the late afternoon, many glasses were consumed in Parisian bars and cafes- but not just that, apparently, s…

I finally went on that life-changing trip

I first came to Puglia in 2008, I think it must have been early October. I'd had an awesome time in Tuscany and Rome and Calabria and was arriving there by train, filled to the max with beautiful experiences and electric connections, not really expecting much else than just a half-boring yoga teacher training that I had signed up for, not really knowing what else to do with my life after finishing my degree in Indian Philosophy at SOAS, University of London. 

As the train cut through Basilicata and into Puglia, the amount of olive trees that swooshed past started to be shocking. After a while, I realised that it just wasn't going to end. Endless amount of them, large, proud, thick. Planted in perfect rows, with no sigh of the end, or the horizon. 

My eyes widened as I started to think I was hallucinating. Was I going insane?
It went on for hours. Endless olive trees. I felt as if there was a movie on repeat outside of the train window. 

As the train finally stopped in Bari, I wait…