Kumari Ellis

Kumari is a Mullumbimby based author. Her novel about her mystical experiences in India is an absorbing and enlightening tale. Join her on a great adventure into one of the world’s most exotic and intricate spiritual cultures.

“I have always loved to write and it was six years ago that I first sat down to write this story of my time in India. Initially I had two days every week when I was released for a few hours of mothering duty, and in that time I would brew chai, and sit down to write. It was surprisingly easy for me to slip back to the days of India and I found great solace in doing so. It has been a lengthy process and I believe with this first manuscript I have learnt so much about the writing process. Indeed about myself as it took me beyond the edge of comfort at times with revealing more about myself than I ever set out to share. It is a story that wants to be shared and I found that the more I could get out of my own way and simply be present, to show up to the empty page, the more it revealed.”

Please LIKE and SHARE Kumari’s FB Page
Send Kumari a Message

Facebook Page Posts

a beautiful video of Papaji......This video compilation put together for Gurupurnima 2018 includes the following interactions: Devotee: Feeling half cooked and leaving soon. Papaji: Cut the ... ... See MoreSee Less

2 months ago

Video image

Comment on Facebook

A gift from a true seeker
ByJohn Wade on February 13, 2018
Format: Paperback
What a wonderful ride I was taken on by this book. Kumari's descriptions of places across India are so accurate and highly emotive. Having visited India numerous times I had to resist cancelling everything and immediately buying a plane ticket to experience India flowing around me and through me once again. The book is gifted to us by a dedicated seeker of Truth. Tracing the Moon is an important affirmation for many "on the path". It affirms we are not the only one having the experience of doubts and the sometimes bumpy auto rickshaw ride from one moment of clear ecstasy to being swamped by our worldly uncontrolled mind in the next moment. Thank you Prem Kumari.
... See MoreSee Less

7 months ago

Maha Shivaratri - The Great Night of Lord Shiva

Shiva is the ultimate power, the Adiyogi. He is where we come from and in him, we will return. Also known as auspicious, propitious, gracious, benign, kind, benevolent, friendly, in whom all things lie, all pervading, embodiment of grace, Lord of the dance, the sacred void which is endless, pure energy.

During Maha Shivaratri, devotees stay awake all night chanting the name of Lord Shiva. This year it will be celebrated in South India on the night of the 13th of February while in North India on the night of the 14th of February.

There are a number of popular legends related to Maha Shivaratri.

It is believed that on this day, Lord Shiva married Parvati.
It is also believed that on this night, Lord Shiva performed the Tandava Dance (cosmic cycle of creation, preservation and dissolution).

Maha Shivaratri is celebrated as the day Lord Shiva saved the universe, when during the churning of the ocean He drunk the poison and held it in his throat becoming known as Neelkanth.

Another legend associated to Mahashivaratri is the Shiva Linga (also known as Lingodbhavamurthy). According to the story, Brahma and Vishnu searched hard to discover the Aadi (beginning) and the Antha (end) of Lord Shiva. On this auspicious night, Lord Shiva manifested himself in the form of linga to reveal that there is no beginning or end to His Being. This story is associated with the formation of the holy hill Arunachala.

Another legend related to Mahashivaratri is the descent of Holy River Ganga from the heavens, when Lord Shiva held out his thick matted hair and softened Ganga's journey to earth.

Another famous story is one of a hunter who unknowingly dropped bael leaves on a Shivalinga and attained Moksha. While hunting in the forest, Suswara the hunter shot a deer but could not return home as night fell on the forest. To spend the night, he climbed a bael tree. He kept awake the whole night because of hunger and thirst. He shed tears thinking about his wife and children who would starve without food. To divert his mind, he engaged himself in plucking bael leaves and dropping them. This happened on Maha Shivaratri. There was a Shiva Lingam under the tree and unknowingly, the hunter worshipped Lord Shiva throughout the night. Moreover, he had fasted all day and night. Thus he received salvation. This fable was narrated by, Bhishma, discoursing on Dharma whilst resting on the bed of arrows during the Kurukshetra war (Mahabharata).

Happy and Blessed Mahashivaratri
... See MoreSee Less

7 months ago

Here is a review Tracing the Moon recieved today...thank you Vivienne Pasters.... Beautiful, insightful and intimate

When I started reading Tracing the Moon I didn’t want to stop. As I found myself closer to the end, I didn’t want it to finish, for fear of the void it might leave inside me.

This is such an intimate sharing, with beautiful descriptive chapters and photos, how could I not find some of myself in the lines.

I feel this is a pointer on my own path and I know I will be able to recover the feelings and emotions I felt by simply looking at the book on my shelf.

Thank you Kumari for sharing. Namaste
... See MoreSee Less

8 months ago

Comment on Facebook

Such a wonderful book. I too have read it twice and should be on everyones must read list. 🙏

In english only?


+ View previous comments

From Lucknow we flew south to Chennai. A four hour drive delivers us to the holy mountain Arunachala, where Ramana Maharishi spent most of his life. After the brimming streets of Lucknow the south feels calm and more serene. Recent heavy rains leave everywhere green and vibrant. We stay in the ashram, an oasis of silence. Ramana’s presence lives on. Only five days but time looses its hold. A diving inwards, sitting long hours as pujas are performed, lingams are washed and scrubbed, offered holy water, milk, honey, flowers and sandalwood perfume. The care and attention, the dedication and focus, the beauty, the devotion is the rhythm of the days. To walk slowly around His Samadhi, his tomb where his body was embalmed, whilst men and women sing verses in praise of Arunachala: back and forth the play of masculine and feminine in harmony. Meditation is almost effortless as a tangible silence leaves a quiet and profound bliss. Meals are served in the dinging room to rows of devotees sitting on the floor with a banana leaf before us. Men in dhotis and the Brahmin thread strung across bare chests serve from buckets of rice, dhal, samba, vegetables cooked with curry leaves tamarind and coconut milk. Butter milk from the ashram cows. And above it all presides the holy hill. “All that is required to realize the Self is to be still. What can be easier than that?’ It was a truly blessed few days and time lost all meaning. On our last evening Soma took me to a Durga temple in town that I had never been to before. Standing before the image of Durga I find tears flowing down my face. Filled with her darshan I fall at her feet in gratitude. The temple is calm and peaceful with a large banyan tree covering a courtyard. The night sky dilute from the light of the city but stars visible all the same. A woman with a small babe offers worship at the deities. She places the baby on the ground to rub red vibhuti and yellow sandal paste on the forehead of Ganesh, at the feet of Durga, murmuring mantras, head bowed, before picking up the baby again, her gold and red sari flowing around her. This is the heart of India. The endless worship, the continuity of God, temples housing Durga, Shiva, Ganesh, and Hanuman. All the Gods are honoured and alive. Returning home to the fabled lands of the Byron Shire where beauty astounds and the air is clean and the waters crystal clear there is a profound absence. The chaos of India is regulated by the pulse of worship, the sweet symphony of the divine, as temple bells ring out in the cool dawn air, prayers are sung in angelic voices, and heads bowed before the greater presence. Suburban living, with the endless requirements that life demands, as if time can be snatched from my hands, working with those in their last years and the suffering so often present as life removes so much before they fade out like the stars at dawn. Personal stories gain too much importance, as the expanded awareness of sitting long hours, immersed in silence requires greater dedication, vigilance, commitment to a practise, and endless compassion for us all. I sit before my Agni hotra flame, a small flame of peace. Recite mantra, take a few moments to pause, remember and simply rest in the presence that indeed is available anywhere. Simply keep quiet. Nature is my goddess here, as the river runs turquoise and the ocean in the last hues of day throws a pastel pink and the water churns with opals. There is so much to be grateful for in this precious life. Ramana says: “The self is here and now, and alone. The one obstacle is the mind; it must be got over whether in the home or in the forest. Your efforts can be made even now, whatever be the environment.’ Hari Om Tat Sat. ... See MoreSee Less

8 months ago

Comment on Facebook

Thanks for sharing your auspicious experience. I am very happy for you. Please tell me more.

Loving the book. Beloved India. Always calling me home.

Beautiful words so rich with humility and gratitude 🙏

Beautiful. Resonate with this. Beloved India. Arunachala Shiva. Ramana. Always in the Heart.

Beautiful description.this os so Índia. Such a blusa do watcb and be present um sol that! Ah this!!!! VERY moment!!!

So beautifully expressed.


Luiz Ortiz


+ View previous comments

the holy hill of Arunachala...... ... See MoreSee Less

8 months ago

Comment on Facebook

Beverley-home! Some familiar faces 😊💖

Lucknow ... See MoreSee Less

9 months ago

... See MoreSee Less

9 months ago

Haridwar did not let us go easily. The full moon, and one of the most auspicious days to bathe in the Ganga brought crowds of pilgrims from near and far. By midday traffic came to a standstill. Eight lanes of buses trucks cars autorikshaws slowed to a halt as the city became gridlocked. Our bus caught somewhere in the fumes and commotion gave us another afternoon to sit by the Ganga. As the sun dipped low hundreds of lights were lit along her banks illuminating the water with dancing reflections as the air filled with pujas. As night fell our bus finally arrived and we drove the back road, a meandering up and down narrow road through the forest, with the moon shining amidst the trees as we chanted and sang. Rishikesh. Wild winds sweep through the guest house where we stay up on the hill, the Ganga as yet unseen. Awakening to her vision spread below us, hills surround and the immediate sense of the Himalayas brings a tingle to my bones. She is perhaps more beautiful here as she emerges emerald green from the mountains where she has tumbled and rushed. Feast- filled days, Ganga arti, pilgrims, even rafting on the river. Sitting by her banks watching her glide by as loudspeakers proclaim her praises. Bathing in her waters, prayers on my lips. Jai Ma. The call of the higher mountains heard but not answered this time. A brief few days and back to Haridwar for a night train to Lucknow. We arrive at the station to find our train is cancelled. Careful plans discarded and a bus is organised. Unknown at the time our train was cancelled due to a thick blanket of fog and pollution covering a large sway of northern India. As we drove through the night it became a miracle that we arrived anywhere safely. Visibility was zero. We lost the road several times ending up in eerie Felinin type scenes as a grainy light spilled on a world blanketed in grey. The road was appalling. One moment a highway then all of a sudden diverted to a single lane commotion. The ride took 18 hours and revealed the ugly underbelly of India. No more temples and pilgrims, rivers flowing free. Lines of trucks bolted together from sheets of iron, garishly painted. Blaring horns. Kids squatting by the road side last minute moving from the path of traffic. Piles of garbage, filth, the roadside dwellers under black sheets of plastic. Figures sleep on the roadside under a blanket. As dawn emerged to reveal pale shadows visibility lifted to about 10 meters. The worst pollution even by India’s standards. We arrive in Lucknow exhausted and sore. The air is turgid grainy and my lungs ache. I have a sadhu room, a single bed, a rooftop. Dawn, even with the sun hidden by smog, heralds bird song, sounds from the street. Music so familiar to me I weep. A vendor calls his wares, women sweep. Satang house is still maintained and the presence of my beloved Guruji is profound in its certainty. It is 20 years ago since he left his body. The energy is the same: never born, never dies. Reflecting the unchanging Self that is the heart of all creation. I retreat to my room. Dive inwards. We watch satsang DVD’s and visit Papaji’s house. His bedroom is a shrine to Him and the silence is thick. Ecstatic bliss just to sit in the living room, served tea and biscuits, with memories of so many years that I lived in this chaotic bustling city with the focus on satang, on beloved Papaji. The grace flows freely. I cannot describe the relationship of devotee to ones master, ones Guru. It simply has to be experienced. I am so deeply profoundly grateful. Lucknow teems with life. I love that I can speak enough Hindi to connect. After a rickshaw wallah cycles me back from the market I give him 100rupees…$2. His face erupts in smiles and he touches my feet in gratitude. The beggars outside the temple, the small kid with broken teeth and a tin for coins, I just want to feed them all. India and her people touch a place in me that reminds me I am home. ... See MoreSee Less

9 months ago

Comment on Facebook

We were walking the back road the other day....back through the forest at dusk after meditating in Muni Babas cave.....many monkeys and enormous amounts of elephant shit and silent tiger eyes watching from the trees

Such divine storytelling - i feel filled by all that you share. Thank you and safe travels <3

With this awesomely written account of your experience I can feel it, smell it, sense it, be right there! Thanks for sharing in such a profound reflection, love and blessings 💚💙💜

Thanks for taking us with you on your inner and outer journey Kumari

Oh how beautifully written <3 ... I can so totally feel immersed in your experience, right there with you. TQ for all you share. Jai Ma ! xx

Great script, am living it right now! Jaimini

Thank you .. beautifully written and received

Beautifully written, Much love.

Who wrote this beautiful piece?

Oh my good

Thanks. You take me there...

Thanks. Oh my good




+ View previous comments

some images of Haridwar...... ... See MoreSee Less

9 months ago

Load more Posts

Facebook Events

No Events listed on FB by this Member. --- Members Pls post Events through your FB Page (not Profile) to have them listed here.

Load more Posts