Page 23 of The Love Thief
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Ananda!
“Oh, oh, aah, OH! Aahhhhhh, mmmmmmm, oh yes.”
These moans of pleasure slipped out of me as I fell into a state of transcendent ecstasy as four synchronized hands massaged fragrant sesame seed oil up, down, and around my limbs and torso.
I was in the midst of a sensory-rich ballet designed to heal and balance my out-of-whack doshas , a term I didn’t understand, nor did I need to.
I knew that it had been forever since I had experienced pure pleasure .
. . something I’d forgotten was even an option.
Maya had arranged for us to have Abyhanga Shirodhara treatments, which may sound like a form of torture, but is a sensuous, soul-stirring healing experience.
This was the Abyhanga part. A blissful massage to enliven all of my senses while also calming me into a state of being I had never visited before.
What came next was the Shirodhara treatment that has warm sesame oil drizzled back and forth across your forehead, specifically targeted to the third eye, in a rhythmic sequence designed to quiet mental chatter and encourage sound sleep.
The petite massage therapist gently asked me to turn over. Looking closely at my face, she felt my pulse, then nodded.
“Hmmm . . . your Vata, which is your dosha, is nestled too deeply in the mind,” she said. I wrinkled my forehead as I looked at her inquisitively.
“That can’t be good,” I mused. “What’s a dosha?”
The therapist smiled warmly. “It is the energy that circulates in your body.”
Wasn’t energy a good thing? She seemed to sense that I didn’t understand.
“You think too much. We need to get your Vata in balance.” She asked me to close my eyes as she began to drizzle oil slightly back and forth across my forehead.
Shirodhara was supposed to bring deep relaxation, inner calm, and peace.
Whatever state that was, I wanted more of it.
I melted into the table and quietly drifted off into a soft slumber.
After the treatment, I could feel myself yearning not just for a sense of equilibrium but for a return to my previous happy-go-lucky self.
My morning chats with Deepak were beginning to loosen the grip of my despair.
I noticed that my depression and sadness had become a bad habit, akin to wearing a favorite, ugly old bathrobe every day.
It wasn’t a good look, yet I felt stuck in its familiarity.
Deepak had described the metamorphosis a caterpillar goes through to become a butterfly and how the magic occurs through the development of imaginal cells. Was that what the Shirodhara treatment was for me? Was it perhaps the beginning of my transformation?
A few hours before, I had taken the scenic half-hour drive up a treelined mountain road to the luxurious Ananda in the Himalayas.
We entered the massive grounds through tall majestic gates, home to a former palace, now a very posh hotel and spa.
Located on the top of a mountain and surrounded by a verdant mix of pine, cedar, and palm trees, Ananda was surrounded by a fine mist hanging in the air, infusing the setting with a magical, mystical vibe.
Maya was waiting for me in the lobby, looking like a regal yogini.
Her dark hair secured in a messy bun atop her head, and wearing the sexiest peek-a-boo cutout leggings and matching tank top I’d ever seen, she wrapped me in a fragrant, joy-filled hug of indeterminable florals and spices.
The leggings were a woven crisscross pattern that ran a vertical path down her warm brown-skinned legs, pretty but perhaps a bit provocative as it wasn’t yet 10 A.M.
“Holly, we are going to have the best day ever!” Maya enthusiastically informed me. “The plan is first we take a yoga class, followed by a swim, then lunch on the veranda where I swear to you it will be safe for you to eat the world’s best salad, and then our spa treatments.”
On our way to yoga class, we walked on rich colorful tapestry carpets, marble floors, and hardwoods as we passed beautiful art-filled walls.
Maya filled me in on the history of Ananda.
Once the summer palace of a prince, it had been transformed into one of the world’s premier healing spa destinations.
Finally, Oprah and I had something in common: we’d both been pampered at India’s finest resort.
Given that my wrist was barely healed, I wasn’t sure how much of the class I could actually do, but I was determined to give it a try.
The first sequence was a round of Sun Salutations, where I quickly discovered that the downward facing dog was not this girl’s best friend.
Fortunately a bit later in the class, we moved into shavasana , a pose I easily excelled in.
I simply lay on my back, arms at my side, palms up, and breathed.
Above me was a domed ceiling with a stunning Mughal-influenced blue-and-white-tile mosaic. I could get used to this.
After yoga, we went to the pool and bobbed in the shallow end while I spewed out my horror story of Barry and the accident.
My crushed dreams of being a happily married mom.
The loss of my best friend and business.
All of it just came rushing out of me, and surprisingly I didn’t cry.
Not even once. Maya was a compassionate listener, and even though I barely knew her from our short time together at the ashram, I intuitively felt I could trust her.
When I came up for air, she said, “Here’s what I know for sure, Holly.
Karma is karma. That monster will be punished and whatever past karma brought him into your life, you are now complete and finished with.
While you may feel uncertain about your future, I know that amazing things are happening right now; things are lining up that will birth you into an unimaginable life of joy and fulfillment. ”
“But what and when, Maya? I am so scared that I will never be happy again.”
“Well, let’s focus on what we can do today, which is to go have a fabulous lunch and then a spa treatment that I promise will put you into a state of profound bliss,” Maya said. With that, we dried off and went to lunch.
After ordering, Maya shared with me her own tragic love story. Married off at twenty-five in a somewhat arranged union to the heir of another hotel family, Maya and Shekhar had known each other most of their lives.
“The first time I noticed him was at my cousin’s wedding.
I was about seven, and he was around ten, and it was love at first sight for me.
I can still see him in his turquoise blue-and-gold raw silk Bandhgala suit with brass buttons, looking like the handsome young prince he was.
I was wearing a pink chiffon big girl sari, and while we never actually spoke, we threw shy glances at each other all day,” Maya recalled with a wistful smile on her face.
“We didn’t attend the same schools and only occasionally saw each other at large events, and I admit I often fantasized about him as my possible Prince Charming.
“Over the years, Shekhar developed a reputation as the king of the local nightclub and party scene. Even though we didn’t run in the same social circles, I was always aware of him.
Handsome. Charismatic. Fun. I was more than delighted when the matchmaker, and our parents, decided to arrange an official meeting.
As per tradition, he came to our home with his family.
“We had a beautiful meal together, and then Shekhar and I sat in the garden the rest of the afternoon talking. It was a magical day, the conversation flowed effortlessly, and we laughed a lot.
“We decided to be ‘modern’ and told our parents that we wanted to date for a few months before deciding if we would marry. I have to admit to you I was ready to say yes that day,” Maya explained.
She told me their wedding was seven days of decadence, including more than a few Bollywood stars, supermodels, and global VIPs.
Her wedding planner said it was the most expensive wedding he had ever organized.
She explained what happened at each of the seven events, including one party that lasted until 6 A.M. and required that the dinner buffet be opened and fully serviced for ten hours.
“It was a spectacle, even by Indian standards. He arrived on a painted elephant to a crowd of more than three thousand. Our guests entered the grounds through a long, winding tunnel made entirely of imported flowers. If you saw the movie Crazy Rich Asians , that will give you some idea of just how elaborate my wedding was.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around a buffet to feed three thousand for ten hours . Just how rich was her family? I wondered.
“Holly, you were brought up with Disney’s idea of a princess.
On my wedding day, I was a mini-Maharani.
I wore more than a million dollars of antique jewelry with my red sari, which weighed a ton because of all the encrusted jewels.
And after the actual wedding ceremony, I was carried off in a litter by six strong and beautiful men and handed off to my new in-laws, as is the custom in India.
I now ‘belonged’ to my husband’s family. ”
“Wow, sounds like an amazing spectacle, Maya. What went wrong with the marriage?”
“My Prince Charming was a drug addict and an alcoholic. His family knew all along. They had sent him to a rehab center and thought he was healed, but he was a terrific actor and fooled everyone, pretending to be sober and all. His parents purposely selected me, thinking that I was such a good girl that once we had a few kids, he would mature and all would be well in the end. Since I didn’t know he had a problem, I didn’t think anything of it when we drank champagne on our honeymoon.