Swami Brahm Bodhi

I have boarded the plane that will take me from Boston, USA, to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, on my way to Bharat.

I left Bharat on 25 October 2025, beginning a journey that was to take me through parts of Europe, then England, and finally the United States. After completing my engagements in Europe and spending a rewarding stretch of time in England, I arrived in the USA on 5 December.

I had intended to remain there for a longer period. However, I soon realised that from 15 December to 15 January much of the country slips into a near-complete pause. Offices and universities close, academic life recedes, and campuses begin to awaken again only around the third week of January. In effect, the nation enters a collective holiday.

Thus, quite unexpectedly, I found myself in the midst of a forced leisure, with little structured work to pursue. I was informed that before 20 January none of my talks or programmes would materialise in the USA. Waiting for such a long interval seemed unreasonable. I therefore decided to return to India, and to revisit the United States later, with clearer planning and at a more suitable time.

My return to India was also necessitated by the need to ensure that the draft law I had sent to the Prime Minister’s Office, seeking early enactment by Parliament, received due attention. This draft law is an initiative intended to strengthen and empower Hinduism for centuries to come.

Yet, even within this relatively short stay in America—an active engagement of hardly twelve days—my time in the USA proved remarkably productive. In New York and the surrounding areas, I visited several temples and delivered a series of spiritual talks, coordinated by Sri Rahul Sur involving Sri BalaGuru, Sri Vikram and Sri Abhilash Tewari. From there, I travelled to Austin, Texas, for a three-day visit on invitation.

Austin—often spoken of today as the city of Elon Musk—was, for me, significant for a different reason. There, I had the privilege of addressing and guiding the Tattva Academy, run in association with the Chinmaya Mission by a group of devoted Indians, led by Sri Dinesh Rajshekharan and his wife, Tulsi. The academy is dedicated primarily to the children of the Indian diaspora, who grow up between two worlds and often struggle to find a language that binds them to their roots.

In Austin, I also spoke at the Shiva Durga Shakti Temple before a gathering of Indian families, on the theme of Mokshavidya and the paths to liberation. The temple’s priest, Pandit Krishna Pandey, is doing commendable work in drawing youth and families into regular and meaningful participation in temple life—an effort that quietly resists cultural drift without aggression or anxiety.

Another significant moment in Austin was a presentation on the condition of Indians in the United States and the vulnerabilities they face. Delivered by Mr Arun Kumar, who leads an advocacy group there, it was deeply eye-opening.

My stay in New York City was equally fruitful. My friend Sri Rahul Sur, who has been associated with the United Nations for quite long, played an instrumental role in arranging several meetings with leaders of the Indian diaspora, both in person and through virtual conferences. These interactions revealed a community that is outwardly successful, yet inwardly searching—for cohesion, for voice, and for a shared civilisational purpose.

Taken together, it was an unusually intense journey through Europe, England, and the United States. I had planned to include Africa in this itinerary, but that visit has now been deferred. I hope to undertake it separately before long.

With no option but to accept the enforced lull after mid-December, I chose to visit my niece in Boston. From there, I booked a ticket to Dubai, to visit the new temple near Abu Dhabi and to explore certain possibilities in the UAE. After a brief four-day stay in Dubai, I am scheduled to fly onward to Bengaluru.

Owing to the pace and pressure of these engagements, I have not yet been able to record my experiences in full. Still, whenever time permitted, I noted down and published fragments of my travelogue. These were written in snatches of time—between flights, meetings, and quiet late evenings—and they reflect immediacy rather than completeness. I intend to return to them, and to write more detailed pieces focused on particular journeys and on specific encounters with people in the UK, Europe, and the United States.

As readers may recall, on the very first morning of my arrival in New York, while looking out of the window of Sri Rahul Sur’s nineteenth-floor apartment at the box-shaped buildings of Manhattan—of varying sizes, colours, and heights—I had an unusual encounter with the Statue of Liberty. She appeared before me, spoke to me, and vanished into thin air before I could utter a word in reply.

Thereafter, I encountered her many times. She would appear suddenly, speak, and disappear again—often leaving me little opportunity to respond. I was in no haste to speak to her. I wished first to listen—to observe, to absorb, and to form a first-hand appraisal of the American civilisation in whose name she stood. Only after listening, I felt, does one earn the right to speak.

I did, however, respond to her on many occasions—and at times placed her in troubled reflection, and at other times quietened her.

I now wish to pen down those encounters with the Statue of Liberty—in the supposed land of liberty, the United States—as part of this unfolding travelogue.

I depart America with heartfelt gratitude to all those who hosted me and helped me advance my mission, even if only in part. This includes my first host Rahul and Meenaji at Manhatten, NY, Ashvin and Rakhi at Austin, and my last host, Dr Srinivas K. Rao, Ph.D., a renowned scientist residing in Glen Oaks, New York. Though I could not spend much time with Mrs and Mr Rao, I had a lively and engaging intellectual discussion with Dr Rao during the four-hour drive from New York to Boston, in his self-driven automatic Tesla. By calendar age he may be a senior citizen, but what the French philosopher Bergson called élan vital in him remains wholly unfaded. I also vividly recall the young Pranay Aggarwal’s eager efforts to connect me with many groups across the USA. Thanks also to Ankur Saloni, and the little Dhruva my hosts at Boston.

As I write this piece, I can hear the announcement by the cabin crew that the plane is preparing for take-off, and that we must fasten our seatbelts and shut down our electronic equipment. I look out of the window and find Ms Liberty hovering in the air, waving at me. I promise her that we shall meet again—before long—when I return to complete my mission, and to carry forward my conversations with her.