May 2026

Rishikesh has long been known as the “Yoga Capital of the World,” with countless yoga ashrams and monastic communities lining the banks of the Ganga. The name Rishikesh first appears in the Skanda Purana, a Sanskrit text dating from around the eighth century, where the region is described as a sacred hermitage of sages (rishis). Around the same period, Adi Shankaracharya is believed to have visited the area and established several temples, helping to strengthen Rishikesh’s importance as a center of pilgrimage and spiritual learning.

Yet Rishikesh is perhaps most famous as the place where the Ganga emerges from the Himalayan foothills and enters the plains of northern India, making it the first major pilgrimage center along the river’s course.

When I first arrived in Rishikesh in 1991, I knew little about the spiritual significance of the Ganga or the history of the town. I was simply a young backpacker searching for answers to a series of persistent questions: Who am I? What is the purpose of my life? What am I meant to do with it?

I felt a strong need to find answers to these questions before settling into a career and family life. Without some understanding of who I was and what I truly wanted, I felt it would be difficult to choose the right path, whether in work, relationships, or life itself.

Although I could not have explained it at the time, I felt an inner certainty that I needed to learn meditation and find a teacher who could guide me in that search. Looking back, I am not surprised that I found such a person in Rishikesh. It felt as though I had been quietly led there by unseen hands. All I needed to do was surrender to the opportunities that presented themselves along the way.

Back then, Rishikesh felt much quieter and more traditional, with life centered around long-established ashrams such as Sivananda Ashram (The Divine Life Society) , Dayananda Ashram, Paramarth Niketan, and Yoga Niketan.

The Divine Life Society in particular was home to several remarkable spiritual teachers, and I deeply enjoyed listening to their talks on Indian Philosophy. Among them were Swami Krishnananda and Swami Chidananda, both of whom were highly respected figures within the ashram community at the time.

For decades, Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Forest Academy has offered its renowned two-month Yoga Vedanta Course. The program provides a comprehensive introduction to Indian spiritual thought, covering the history of both Indian and Western philosophy as well as the study of major yogic and Vedantic scriptures, including the Bhagavad Gita, the Upanishads, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and the Narada Bhakti Sutras. This emphasis on both intellectual inquiry and spiritual practice has long made the academy a destination for serious students of yoga and Vedanta from around the world.

It was after one of Swamiji’s talks at Sivananda Ashram that I met a Dutch woman who told me about Vanamali Geeta Yoga Ashram in Tapovan. Unlike the larger and more established ashrams, Vanamali was a small spiritual community run by Mataji and her brother, Mohanji, who came from Kerala in South India.

From the moment I arrived, I was struck by the warmth of the place. Both Mataji and Mohanji had gentle smiles, and the ashram felt more like a family home than a spiritual institution. Upstairs was a small prayer room with a wooden statue of Krishna at its center. True to the name Vanamali, “the one adorned with garlands of five wild flowers,” the statue was always decorated with fresh flower garlands. Each morning, Mataji performed puja and chanted Sanskrit prayers, while in the evenings she and Mohanji led meditation and bhajans (devotional songs). The adjoining balcony overlooked the Ganga, offering what seemed to me one of the most beautiful views in Rishikesh.

It was at Vanamali Ashram that I first learned the yogic way of life. I learned how to meditate, practise yoga asanas, prepare wholesome vegetarian meals, and, perhaps most importantly, how to apply the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita in everyday life. I immersed myself in everything I could learn and, after nearly a year there, emerged feeling like a different person. I felt more connected to my inner Self and to the people around me, and I became aware of the life-long goals that would give my life a sense of purpose.

As I reflected on the question, “Who am I?”, I found the second chapter of the Bhagavad Gita particularly inspiring. One verse in particular was eye-opening for me:

It neither takes birth nor dies. It does not come into existence or cease to exist. It is unborn, eternal, changeless and primeval. It is not destroyed with the slaying of the body.

Bhagavad Gita Chapter 2, Verse 20

The verse refers to the true Self (Atman), which, according to the Gita, exists beyond the physical body and the constantly changing mind. Whether one accepts this teaching literally or symbolically, it encouraged me to look beyond the labels and identities by which I had always defined myself and to explore a deeper dimension of who I was.

Equally important was a growing awareness of the presence of Love within my heart. Through her teachings and example, Mataji nurtured a sense of devotion to the Divine and trust in the fundamental goodness that exists within people. More than three decades later, those lessons remain with me, continuing to shape the way I relate to myself, to others, and to life itself. 

Looking back, I am also reminded of how profoundly our lives can be shaped by the people we meet. Sometimes a chance encounter, a kind teacher, or a welcoming community can quietly alter the course of our journey, provided we are open to the possibility of change.

Yet learning spiritual teachings intellectually is the easy part. The greater challenge is putting them into practice day after day. Even after many years of study and practice, I still find myself working to embody those teachings in daily life. It is a lifelong journey with no final destination, but that is precisely what makes it so meaningful.

Fix your mind on Me, be devoted to Me, worship Me, and bow down to Me.     You will come to Me; I truly promise you this, for you are dear to Me. 

Bhagavad Gita Chapter 18, Verse 65 

After leaving the ashram, I returned many times over the years, including during our honeymoon and later to celebrate our son’s birthday. Mataji also visited us in Japan and even in Indonesia when we were living there. I was delighted that we were able to meet them again on this recent trip.

Although the ashram is no longer open to visitors, Mataji’s teachings continue to reach people through her talks on YouTube, and I hope she will resume her online gatherings in the future. More than three decades after I first walked through the gates of Vanamali Ashram, I remain deeply grateful for the guidance, friendship, and inspiration I found there.

In retrospect, I realize that my connection with Vanamali Ashram was never based on an exchange of services, but on a relationship of trust and goodwill. Visitors were free to contribute whatever donation they felt was appropriate, yet the value of what I received could never be measured in financial terms. The teachings, friendship, and sense of belonging I found there have stayed with me throughout my life, and for that I will always be grateful.