JAIPUR, India — I needed an escape, a vacation that would shake me out of my routine. So when the yoga center in New York where I'm learning to meditate organized a two-week yoga trip to India, I decided to go.

We flew to New Delhi and the next day traveled several hours by bus to Rajasthan, in northern India. The dilapidated cobblestone roads along the way led to still-narrower streets crowded with stores and one-room houses. Men, women and children squatted along the roadside, draped in vividly colored garments.

On a hill overlooking the village of Samode, we stayed in a former maharaja's palace that has been turned into a luxury hotel. Here at the Samode Palace, guests are made to feel like royalty, with staff offering help at every turn, beautiful courtyards, a pool with a view of the mountains and regally decorated rooms. For yoga, we met in a grand hall adorned with balconies and chandeliers. The walls were decorated with intricate colored tilework, and sunlight poured in.

Each morning, our group spent four hours practicing yoga, meditating and listening to lectures on philosophy. I was surprised to discover that these practices, unlike those back in many New York City gyms, were not physically difficult, but they were mentally and emotionally intense.

The goal of such practice, if there is a goal, is to become centered, to experience a level of consciousness called Samadhi or stillness, and to know yourself. No emotions, needs, fears and what-ifs. Just peace, to keep the mind clear and focused all day.

In the afternoons, Gagu, a local artist in Samode, volunteered to be our tour guide. He set me on the back of his scooter, while another guide took someone else from our group, and we sped by children, pigs and goats. Smiling children crowded around us on the street. I tossed them some chocolates and we stopped at a store, where for $6, we bought 200 notebooks, pens and more candy. Gagu took me to a school and we handed out the supplies, enough for every child there.

Yoga balances the energy of the body with the goal that regular practice enables us to be at rest, not haunted by thoughts and worries that keep us from knowing our true nature. Yoga teacher Mona Anand posed questions that resonated, such as: "Can you be a human being and not a human doing?"

This mindset was tested when we spent some time in big cities. Jaipur and Delhi were teeming with people, scooters, livestock, cars, rickshaws, lorries and bicycles. Traffic splayed out in all directions. I worried our bus would be in an accident as I watched cars break every traffic rule.

On my last day in India, I wanted to see Mahatma Gandhi's memorial. Others advised against it as being unsafe and warned me that "there was nothing to see." But the simplicity of the place turned out to be the very point.

A rickshaw driver brought me to Raj Ghat, where Gandhi was cremated in 1948 on a river bank in Delhi. I wandered across the flat grassy field to the plain black stone. I sat down, and I felt myself internalizing everything I'd seen and felt in India.

Until this trip, I had always thought of yoga as simple exercise. Now I was beginning to see it as the foundation for a simple, compassionate and joyful existence. I could see what a difference it made in keeping me calm, present and paying attention to the world. There is no better souvenir than that.