A gentle pause for the self at Atmantan…

I have never heard of the Crystal Hill before.
In fact, it is my first time at a wellness retreat, ever. Youth can be deluding like that, making you think ‘oh, I have time’ before I need to slow down. But time, very cosmically, catches up in more ways than one, and then you suddenly find yourself staring at the Sahyadri range while overlooking the pristine Mulshi river. Only to realise how badly the body needed to slow down. I’m looking at the giant Buddha statue at Atmantan, a sanctuary nestled on a 42-acre lush site, and a sense of calm takes over me. It’s not very far from home, a few hours from Mumbai and near Pune, insulated against the noise and commotion of the city. I must admit – no praise does justice to the magnanimous stature of the Sahyadri. Somebody said that if you ever want to feel small go see the mountains, and somebody was right.

Wellness =1, work =0

The air is cleaner, crisper and somehow also nourishing; I imagine my lungs doing a celebratory dance. The first order of business is to inspect the plantation garden, sniffing the Vicks (mint not the rub) Tulsi leaf and taking in all the leafy, rooted goodness, all before checking in, without a whisper of WiFi. I am angsty about missing messages, but it is time for lunch, and I think to myself ‘work will just have to wait.’ I’m not sure if you can term it as a micro radical act of defiance against the false sense of urgency that has plagued our profession but it’s a small win. ‘I’ll take it.’ We have all heard about the farm-to-table concept but the thaali in front of me, with kansa katoris housing small portions of dal and sabji is a rude shock. Yes, apparently that’s the amount the body needs to be at its optimum self. Fortunately, I’m still full from the McDonald’s breakfast burger I’ve had on the way. Of course, my feelings change over my 2-day stay, ranging from hangry pangs to acclimatised appetite, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

It’s almost time for my doctor’s appointment, a one-on-one consultation to go through concern points that I had highlighted during my registration. Stress, anxiety, restlessness and the whole corporate starter pack. And we do the same when suddenly it dawns, I might need something stronger than this. Or so I thought. As an acid reflux girlie, my dependency on the ever-dependable Eno is unhealthy. But thanks to my doctor and her digestive tablets, I am walking out, towards the Buddha statue again, without a chest burn.

Crystal view

I enter my room, and there’s a deluge of team alerts as soon as my phone finds connectivity, but I’m too taken by the view from my balcony to care about the pings. It’s picturesque with the bluest water I’ve seen in a hot minute. I pretend to do some work for the acquired guilt and then go back to admiring the lake view that has celebrities like Malaika Arora, Bhumi Pednekar, Shilpa Shetty and many others flocking to the retreat. I’m already beginning to see its appeal. Especially during the Meditation on Twin Hearts (MTH) at twilight, in a room filled with the golden hour sun; blessing the earth and basking in the energy. It continues further at the gorgeous dinner table, where the team is celebrating 10 years of Atmantan, with a floral arrangement that looks like it’s borrowed from the Gardens of Eden. We talk about health, habits and how one can sustain both, among other philosophies.

My mother, for as long as I can remember, has been an advocate for aasanas and pranayams for practically anything that could be wrong with the body. So, obviously I feel the urge to call her right after our morning yoga class the day after. A few stretches have somehow fixed my bad posture and my will to live. Breathing (intentionally), it turns out, is extremely underrated. So, I phone her but not before sitting down for breakfast. The view is obviously helping; in the way I absorb the light, the air and the energy. But the rationed food, as a big breakfast eater, is making me jittery. ‘I’m nothing If not committed,’ I think to myself and down another glass of flavoured water that came with a side of blueberries and sabudana khichdi. Along with other tonics prescribed by the doctor.

Is there such a thing as too many messages?

And now for the most important part of the ritual- the massages! I couldn’t have been giddier, for I have two of those in a day. It’s weirdly amazing what a dark, cold room can do to your frazzled nervous system, and when there are essential oils involved, it is almost always followed by an involuntary nap. And who am I to disturb the balance? So, I proceed to be swaddled with hot stones and towels, in the hands of professionals who clearly know what they’re doing. I break for lunch, without any grogginess and grumpiness over portions this time, and I go into another dark, cold room after for a traditional abhyanga massage. I step out a new person with new skin.

And I’m clearly destiny’s favourite child today because I step out to an evening that was clearly painted. I cross the Buddha statue for the nth time and make my way to the amphitheatre to take in the beauty. I sit for a bit, gazing at the monkey on the tree nearby, slowly murmuring a prayer. Sometimes you go seeking spirituality and other times like these, spirituality finds you.

The dinner is quiet and intentional, helping me gather my many thoughts and a certain glee that’s practically oozing out of my pores at this point. It doesn’t end there; the hot tub is prepped and prepared for my last night and getting in feels spiritual on another level, changing my brain chemistry as the dim lights in the washroom dance on the water with oil pockets, floating along with petals of roses, hibiscus and more.

I wake up the next morning feeling energetic and sore at the same time (maybe there’s a thing called too many massages), all ready to take off with more than just one takeaway.

(As originally published by Lifestyle Asia)