Is Spirituality a ‘Weird People’ Thing?
The aura of an esoteric life came crumbling down in front of their eyes. I could do nothing about it.
I don’t exactly remember when this was — it could be around 2001 or 2002, around the time I was beginning to shed childhood. It must have been summer, for I remember us all dressed in our summer school dress — the white frock. The one resembling a nun’s habit, yet for us, it managed to stand out as a fashion statement in contemporary school uniforms.
We are all sitting in the school auditorium, possibly post-lunch break, waiting to listen to some speaker. You know people visit schools to talk to children about all sorts of things, it doesn’t matter if the children are interested in listening to them or not. I remember the impatience of school-goers in the air. But, on this day something was different.
It was not one of those HelpAge India volunteers who gave a grim picture of old age — one that we were still unable to comprehend, or those men who sold fancy scissors to cut crepe papers in all kinds of shapes and designs. Today it was rather an ochre-robed monk from Ramakrishna Mission — in my very Christian church-aligned school! The uniqueness of the moment strikes me now. But that day, it was just another drab lecture by some adult on personality development. And just like most of my school education, I remember almost nothing of that or any other lectures from schooldays.
And that is why it strikes me as phenomenal when today, even two decades later, I can vividly recall just one moment from this particular lecture.
The monk asked us what we would like to become when we grow older. Another cliche in every kid’s life! Few obvious answers were mumbled from the audience members who were still awake enough and obediently listening to this man — doctor, engineer, pilot, teacher. The man looked at us gently and asked with a playful smile over his face,
“Anyone wants to become a monk?”
His audience erupted in laughter. You know children won’t laugh unless you have cracked a really good joke — they don’t understand the social obligations to be nice to you. He too laughed along and moved on with his lecture.
I don’t know why my mind chose to remember this specifically. But off late I have churned in wild agony questioning myself on why this was a joke? Why was this a joke to not just one or two amongst us, but to all — all the three or four hundred children gathered there, on that afternoon, listening to this monk?
Reminiscing on this event, my mind started making associations. And I stumbled upon so many similar incidents from my single puny life. Incidents where spirituality was either a funny joke or an incomprehensible concept to be diplomatically stepped aside, and not offend the practitioner.
Let me tell you about another one. I have lived for the last half-decade of my life at my Gurudev’s ashram, until recently when I moved back home. Gurudev’s ashram incidentally also serves as a weekend tourist destination. One fine Saturday morning, on my way to breakfast, I ran into an old acquaintance who was visiting with some of her friends for a relaxing day trip. She was quite surprised or dare I say a little taken aback to find one of her ilk living there. A friend of hers, the girl whose freshly done keratin spa hair shone from afar in the morning sunshine, said to me,
“What do you do here? I mean, what do people who live in the ashram do?”
It was a Saturday morning. The weekend had just started and Monday morning was still 40 hrs away. In that feathery mood, I replied with a visible chuckle,
“Oh, we sit in circles during the day chanting OMMM.” And readied me for the shared laughter that should have followed the (poor) joke.
Woe me, I was in for a rude surprise when everyone instead of crackling up in jest, nodded in agreement.
Their faces turned to me like curious learners eager to know more. I stared back at them trying to figure out how to undo what I had done. I figured that it would be a long explanation. One that will challenge their already existing notions and that is never a happy place to be in. About three years down the line I still find it difficult to digest that they had actually believed my (poor) joke to be true!
How? Like how!
None of them were happy to learn that we ashramites had as regular lives as them, dealing with excel sheets and project deadlines and that later in the day I was planning to head out to catch a movie at a mall. The aura of an esoteric life came crumbling down in front of their eyes. I could do nothing about it.
Through all this, I have over and again questioned myself that in the daily discourses of our society, why is spirituality looked upon as an alien entity? Why is spirituality always something that only other people do (read weird and impractical people)?
Why did I become a thing of curiosity no sooner did I begin wearing my spiritual choices on my sleeves? And, let me mention here that it is not the curiosity with which you gaze at the stars in the sky. It is rather the curiosity with which you stare at a madman by the street while your car is waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Most amazingly, I have, on more than one occasion, been subtly told that this is a loser’s lifestyle. I should get back to “real” life.
Whereas the truth is told, in our highly demanding lives if there is one thing that can help us to hold on to our sanity, it is spirituality. Now if only we could make it more mainstream-real for everyone to reap its benefits.
