To the Beatles Ashram with the Beetles

It’s been a long trudge up to Rishikesh, the valley of saints, where the pop band, the Beatles, came to learn meditation in an ashram way back in 1968. Closed and abandoned for decades, the recently reopened Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram has today become something of a shrine to Beatles fans globally; and that’s exactly where we are headed. But will it be easy to find the so-called Beatles ashram, and what state is it in? 

Shapur: So Joy, we’re finally here, overlooking the Ram and Lakshman Jhula. The river looks just fantastic. Look at those eddies, the mini whirlpools and boils; it seems like it’s at its angry best. And we have the cars here too, the two Beetles, the classic and the latest one. Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?

Joy: Rishikesh certainly is a dreamy place, straight out of the pages of Hindu mythology. And it must have been even crazier in the ’60s, what with all the sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the hippies floating about. What a time it must have been with the ashrams teeming with people and all the flower power. But do you think there’s anything left of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram?

Shapur: Well, that’s what we’ve got to find out on our ‘magical mystery tour’, haven’t we?

Joy: . . . and we’ve got to decide which Beetle we like better. That is going to be tough.

Shapur: Always was difficult. I initially liked Paul, then John and now maybe George, especially for all his solo stuff. . .

Joy: No no, the Beetles not THE Beatles! The cars. Which is better, the flat four or in-line four, rear engined or front engined, air cooled or water cooled? Not the fab four.

Shapur: In the looks department, the old girl for sure; just look at those lines, that cherubic charm, and that cute grin. How else do you think it went from being a tyrant’s dream to an unlikely symbol of peace in the ’60s – the love bug. It was a revolution. The new car has none of that cuteness.

Joy: I quite like the new car. It has a nice blend of modern and retro. I particularly like the manner in which the front fenders and the rear merge into its slightly sportier profile. And I also like that it is wider and more spacious on the inside. Give me a modern-day car with all the bells and whistles technology can engineer any day. But are we just going to sit around here and conduct a clinic, or are we going to head out in these two white beauties and find where the Beatles wrote most of the White Album?

Shapur: Slight problem Joy. Yesterday’s rain knocked out some cell towers, so I’ve no idea where to start. Google maps is kaput. We might as well head back to that small market and ask for directions.

Joy: Well, luckily for you, I already did, at the chai stop down the road. And by the way, it isn’t called the Beatles ashram. It’s known as Chaurasi Kutia, named after its 84 meditation huts. In Hindi, Chaurasi is 84 and Kutia is huts. The ashram is now a part of the Rajaji National park, which is a tiger reserve.

Shapur: Oh, so the lyrics of ‘Bungalow Bill’ must have been true.

Joy: What?

Shapur: ‘The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill’, the song on the White Album – the one about the American guy from the ashram who goes off hunting tigers in the forest next door and always takes his mum along. Horrifying; we were still killing tigers in ’68!

Joy: Okay, so since I have the map scratched out on a piece of paper, I’ll lead. And try to keep up, I don’t want to have to keep stopping for you, your classic seems to be quite slow.

Shapur: Slow in comparison it is, but owner Samarth Luthra’s ’73 is in fine nick, and the air-cooled engine sounds brilliant with the big fan spinning away in the back. It will be quite good on these winding roads. And the car was designed by one Dr F Porsche.

The road that winds along the opposite bank of the Ganga – where the ashram is supposed to be – is a mix of good tarmac and broken sections. There’s plenty of gravel and slush and we keep getting a bit of rain. But the vistas are stunning, and in sections there’s a layer of mist over the river, because the water is so cold and the air is so warm. The old Beetle manages to keep up pretty well until the next photo op. 

Shapur: So Joy, surprised, this old girl runs pretty well?

It’s been a long trudge up to Rishikesh, the valley of saints, where the pop band, the Beatles, came to learn meditation in an ashram way back in 1968. Closed and abandoned for decades, the recently reopened Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram has today become something of a shrine to Beatles fans globally; and that’s exactly where we are headed. But will it be easy to find the so-called Beatles ashram, and what state is it in? 

Shapur: So Joy, we’re finally here, overlooking the Ram and Lakshman Jhula. The river looks just fantastic. Look at those eddies, the mini whirlpools and boils; it seems like it’s at its angry best. And we have the cars here too, the two Beetles, the classic and the latest one. Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?

Joy: Rishikesh certainly is a dreamy place, straight out of the pages of Hindu mythology. And it must have been even crazier in the ’60s, what with all the sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the hippies floating about. What a time it must have been with the ashrams teeming with people and all the flower power. But do you think there’s anything left of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram?

Shapur: Well, that’s what we’ve got to find out on our ‘magical mystery tour’, haven’t we?

Joy: . . . and we’ve got to decide which Beetle we like better. That is going to be tough.

Shapur: Always was difficult. I initially liked Paul, then John and now maybe George, especially for all his solo stuff. . .

Joy: No no, the Beetles not THE Beatles! The cars. Which is better, the flat four or in-line four, rear engined or front engined, air cooled or water cooled? Not the fab four.

Shapur: In the looks department, the old girl for sure; just look at those lines, that cherubic charm, and that cute grin. How else do you think it went from being a tyrant’s dream to an unlikely symbol of peace in the ’60s – the love bug. It was a revolution. The new car has none of that cuteness.

Joy: I quite like the new car. It has a nice blend of modern and retro. I particularly like the manner in which the front fenders and the rear merge into its slightly sportier profile. And I also like that it is wider and more spacious on the inside. Give me a modern-day car with all the bells and whistles technology can engineer any day. But are we just going to sit around here and conduct a clinic, or are we going to head out in these two white beauties and find where the Beatles wrote most of the White Album?

Shapur: Slight problem Joy. Yesterday’s rain knocked out some cell towers, so I’ve no idea where to start. Google maps is kaput. We might as well head back to that small market and ask for directions.

Joy: Well, luckily for you, I already did, at the chai stop down the road. And by the way, it isn’t called the Beatles ashram. It’s known as Chaurasi Kutia, named after its 84 meditation huts. In Hindi, Chaurasi is 84 and Kutia is huts. The ashram is now a part of the Rajaji National park, which is a tiger reserve.

Shapur: Oh, so the lyrics of ‘Bungalow Bill’ must have been true.

Joy: What?

Shapur: ‘The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill’, the song on the White Album – the one about the American guy from the ashram who goes off hunting tigers in the forest next door and always takes his mum along. Horrifying; we were still killing tigers in ’68!

Joy: Okay, so since I have the map scratched out on a piece of paper, I’ll lead. And try to keep up, I don’t want to have to keep stopping for you, your classic seems to be quite slow.

Shapur: Slow in comparison it is, but owner Samarth Luthra’s ’73 is in fine nick, and the air-cooled engine sounds brilliant with the big fan spinning away in the back. It will be quite good on these winding roads. And the car was designed by one Dr F Porsche.

The road that winds along the opposite bank of the Ganga – where the ashram is supposed to be – is a mix of good tarmac and broken sections. There’s plenty of gravel and slush and we keep getting a bit of rain. But the vistas are stunning, and in sections there’s a layer of mist over the river, because the water is so cold and the air is so warm. The old Beetle manages to keep up pretty well until the next photo op. 

Shapur: So Joy, surprised, this old girl runs pretty well?

It’s been a long trudge up to Rishikesh, the valley of saints, where the pop band, the Beatles, came to learn meditation in an ashram way back in 1968. Closed and abandoned for decades, the recently reopened Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram has today become something of a shrine to Beatles fans globally; and that’s exactly where we are headed. But will it be easy to find the so-called Beatles ashram, and what state is it in? 

Shapur: So Joy, we’re finally here, overlooking the Ram and Lakshman Jhula. The river looks just fantastic. Look at those eddies, the mini whirlpools and boils; it seems like it’s at its angry best. And we have the cars here too, the two Beetles, the classic and the latest one. Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?

Joy: Rishikesh certainly is a dreamy place, straight out of the pages of Hindu mythology. And it must have been even crazier in the ’60s, what with all the sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and the hippies floating about. What a time it must have been with the ashrams teeming with people and all the flower power. But do you think there’s anything left of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram?

Shapur: Well, that’s what we’ve got to find out on our ‘magical mystery tour’, haven’t we?

Joy: . . . and we’ve got to decide which Beetle we like better. That is going to be tough.

Shapur: Always was difficult. I initially liked Paul, then John and now maybe George, especially for all his solo stuff. . .

Joy: No no, the Beetles not THE Beatles! The cars. Which is better, the flat four or in-line four, rear engined or front engined, air cooled or water cooled? Not the fab four.

Shapur: In the looks department, the old girl for sure; just look at those lines, that cherubic charm, and that cute grin. How else do you think it went from being a tyrant’s dream to an unlikely symbol of peace in the ’60s – the love bug. It was a revolution. The new car has none of that cuteness.

Joy: I quite like the new car. It has a nice blend of modern and retro. I particularly like the manner in which the front fenders and the rear merge into its slightly sportier profile. And I also like that it is wider and more spacious on the inside. Give me a modern-day car with all the bells and whistles technology can engineer any day. But are we just going to sit around here and conduct a clinic, or are we going to head out in these two white beauties and find where the Beatles wrote most of the White Album?

Shapur: Slight problem Joy. Yesterday’s rain knocked out some cell towers, so I’ve no idea where to start. Google maps is kaput. We might as well head back to that small market and ask for directions.

Joy: Well, luckily for you, I already did, at the chai stop down the road. And by the way, it isn’t called the Beatles ashram. It’s known as Chaurasi Kutia, named after its 84 meditation huts. In Hindi, Chaurasi is 84 and Kutia is huts. The ashram is now a part of the Rajaji National park, which is a tiger reserve.

Shapur: Oh, so the lyrics of ‘Bungalow Bill’ must have been true.

Joy: What?

Shapur: ‘The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill’, the song on the White Album – the one about the American guy from the ashram who goes off hunting tigers in the forest next door and always takes his mum along. Horrifying; we were still killing tigers in ’68!

Joy: Okay, so since I have the map scratched out on a piece of paper, I’ll lead. And try to keep up, I don’t want to have to keep stopping for you, your classic seems to be quite slow.

Shapur: Slow in comparison it is, but owner Samarth Luthra’s ’73 is in fine nick, and the air-cooled engine sounds brilliant with the big fan spinning away in the back. It will be quite good on these winding roads. And the car was designed by one Dr F Porsche.

The road that winds along the opposite bank of the Ganga – where the ashram is supposed to be – is a mix of good tarmac and broken sections. There’s plenty of gravel and slush and we keep getting a bit of rain. But the vistas are stunning, and in sections there’s a layer of mist over the river, because the water is so cold and the air is so warm. The old Beetle manages to keep up pretty well until the next photo op. 

Shapur: So Joy, surprised, this old girl runs pretty well?