“Undertheneem”….the Spa Nimoli & Karma Lakelands 

Having been there earlier, I was not anticipating or looking forward to a different experience at the resort. It was just another chore accompanying close ones on a winter afternoon.

The first change to intrigue me was the miniature mud-brown hut-temple at the entrance of the spa. It was obvious someone had taken lots of loving care in creating the fawn-colored place-of-worship which seemed to emerge from the earth itself. Sitting within, on his stone throne, in the traditional, regal pose, blessing the universe, was the pristine marble-white figure of one of our deities, ShankarJi.

My pace had slowed and it was only when I moved another step forward that the tiny orange figure of Ganeshji, perched saucily by his side, came into view. 

It was entirely instinctive, and natural that I stopped to take in the details. 

For these were a few moments of quiet grace in an environment where time had ceased to matter. It was also perhaps, the start, of what was to mold the whole experience of that balmy, winter afternoon.

The walk through the small, organic vegetable garden was lazy and leisurely. The shiny green strawberries peeping through leaves were shimmering in the sunlight with just a hint of the promise of tangy sweetness that was to come. The sudden urge to wait and see them ripen to a juicy red, to taste them, made me smile. Glimpses of the tiny broccoli flowers, the cauliflowers and the growing cabbages could be seen through their foliage while the spinach leaves moved gently in the breeze.

Wooden and wrought-iron tables and chairs lay scattered in the lawn around the stately Neem tree holding up the wooden swing hanging from thick ropes. Engraved on a wooden tablet, written in a child’s sloping, kindergarten hand was the legend “Undertheneem”.

The wrought iron chairs were surprisingly comfortable and form-fitting as we sat down to lunch. The starter soup served in tiny cups had just that right amount of mild, black-pepper spiciness to whet our appetites. The fare, catered using the organic garden vegetables, was simple and delightful. Each dish, designed and prepared lovingly was a whole meal in itself.

As we sat there in the half-shade of the Neem, eating the sun-warmed food, the only sound was that of the wind and the wind-chimes. Every time a sudden gust of wind teasingly shook the hanging cylinders, there would be a flurry of the tinkling bell-sounds.

It was perhaps a prayer-offering also to the serene Buddha, who sat on his pedestal across the walk, stoic and silent, lost in eternal meditation. The mini-palm fronds at his sides brushed away any and all disturbances. A sense of quiet benediction seemed to flow from his raised palm.

The artistic, circular depiction in white and green hanging from a tree-branch looked as if it represented the round, unending universe holding within it the wide, spread out branches of the pepal tree. The root lookalikes trailed below swaying in the wind while the white-and-brown feather-ends twirled round-and-round with the walnut-colored bird-house in the background.

The serving of Hibiscus tea after the dessert used a careful selection of crockery that seemed indicative of, or imply, the thought that permeated the place and that whole afternoon. The transparent pot containing the mildly colored tea, the double-cavity glass cup for retaining warmth, and the three-in-one sand timer all added to the prevailing sense of timelessness.

It was an indolent, lazy afternoon, with time stretching away. The quiet, pervasive tranquility, the breeze, the chimes, all seeped in ever-so-quietly, unobtrusively, generating a feeling of wellness, smoothing the ragged edges to our beings and stripping away the noise and cacophony of urban-life.  

 We came away carrying within us a profound sense of having been healed.