preface
Guru Chod was modern Thailand's pioneer yoga master. At the ripe old age of 88 years he was still teaching daily at his small conservatoire. Though students and patrons came from all walks of life, Guru Chod was nothing less than The Royal Guru, having taught Their Royal Highnesses the Queen and Princess of Thailand within the walls of the Chitralada Palace. He also instructed important members of the Buddhist clergy, but this too always remained confidential. Indeed, most who sought the guru help were of Thailand's highest social rung and typically arrived at the celebrated ashram in their chauffeur-driven Mercedes-Benzes. But he looked to all with equal vision...
Chod was born at the turn of the Twentieth Century in the Royal Siamese capital of Krungthep, modern-day Bangkok. His father was a kind of liege official to King Chulalongkorn (1868-1910). Thus was he given a favored posting on the Andaman Sea island of Phuket, an important Siamese trading port of the time. It was thus amid the tropical splendor of Phuket that Chod gained his earliest childhood memories.
Chod received an early British education, first in Penang and then in Bombay. He eventually studied at Trinity College, Cambridge. After graduation he worked many years as a reporter both in Europe and India. With the late 1930's came the imminent outbreak of war in Europe. This, combined with severe health problems, forced the bachelor journalist to the Himalayan foothills. There he lived throughout the war-years with Swami Sivananda on the banks of the Ganges. It was there that Chod gained initiation to the order of svāmins and undertook to master the science of yoga.
After the war he returned to Thailand and quickly established himself as a prominent national news editor, sometimes running two papers at once. He also took a sixteen-year-old girl for his wife and turned his house into a yoga institute. This was not done commercially, but in the spirit of social service. There was never any need to advertise either. "When a flower blossoms," his guru had told him, "it does not send out invitation cards. The bees come by themselves." Thus he normally conducted morning yoga sessions and went to the newsroom after lunch.
Only at the age of seventy-five did the Master retire altogether from journalism and establish his yoga conservatoire. The demand was enormous and he faced the challenge squarely. He displayed such unswerving stamina and force that the people around him were often astounded. "It's a good occupation for an old man," he said. "I like to be useful."
In fact, even well into his eighty-eighth year the again bachelor guru was surrounded by beautiful women: sparkling young college girls, ravishing airhostesses, fashion models, call girls and other sophisticated professional types. Yet road-tattered Western yoginīs came as well, aglow from extended journeys east, having heard along the way of a certain living legend. This is probably what kept him teaching so long.
"But everybody has to die," he often declared. And he certainly gave us all fair warning. True to prediction, on his 88th birthday he stretched out on the floor and merged with the white clouds.
[Note: For most recent edition see pdf file saint guru chod (1900-1988).]
