The intimacy of a train is unparalleled.
A goodbye is said reluctantly. A man stacks the spotlessly white IRCTC pillows neatly. A grandma loudly regrets bringing a larger than necessary bag. A woman combs her hair. An uncle extends a chana filled hand to his neighbour, no more a stranger. A woman combs her daughter's hair. A child imitates the chaiwala. Chai garam chai garam chaiiii garam. The ticket collector comes by. He is a funny man, making comments on how mobile phones are destroying human relationships- all the while talking to people scrolling on their phones.
The irony of a train is unparalleled. I take out my diary and my pen. I sense the eyes of an entire compartment on me. Inevitably, I am asked “What do you do?”
What do I do?
What do I want to do?
Freedom is when answers to both these questions are the same. I decide to write down an answer that is valid for the next 15 days. What do I want to do here, now? I will not let the enormity or perceived finality of life be a tyrant. The fear of not having a certain answer will not stop me from having one.
What am I here to do? I am here to be part of a team. To create a loving field for people to find themselves in. To allow space for my soul to emerge in its truest shape. To laugh and to listen intently. I am here to remind myself that I am not a tourist on earth, to feel (more) at home on this planet. I am here to do meaningful work, a service to all the pain I carry within me. This is an ode to a transformation, slow and steady. I am here to remind people of their goodness.
I wish I could sit at my desk and reveal to you each moment of this journey. Till we can find the time to do that, here are pieces from my experience. Things I have learnt, things I have felt, things I have remembered. Perhaps they are comprehensible, perhaps you will struggle to make sense of them. Either way, try not to make this a purely cognitive exercise. I have bared my soul with as much honesty as it allowed me.
It’s day one. I have smiled at 23 people since morning. A person I admire tells me that I must go to places that are doing cutting edge work. I don’t want the cutting edge. I want soft wholeness.
What does it take to see a person?
To acknowledge their presence, to see their gifts, to honour their pain and admire their choice to not look away. Feel grateful that they have chosen to share this space with you. Imagine their success in creating a world both of you dream of. Allow their soul to show itself. Welcome that which is shy within them. See their insecurities, ancestors, wisdom and traditions. See a piece of yourself, smile at all of it. Give them undivided attention. express a desire to be there. Congratulations, you have met a person.
Principles of a circle:
Unless you make it warm, it’s cold.
Sit such that everyone can see everyone else.
No one sits outside.
Speak from the heart
It’s 3pm and we have spoken of the urgency and enormity of the climate crisis all day. I feel like an imposter. The right thing does not see convenience. Doing the right thing is definitely not a matter of ease.
Human wellbeing and ecological balance are the two most relevant and intricately connected things on this planet. We borrow our mortal bodies from the earth and return to it once we’ve lived our time. This borrowed time in between is cause for tremendous agony and hope.
It’s day 2 and we have said the word community 400 times. I sit down to think of what it truly means. I stand up to buy samosas. I remember a definition from a book. Community: deeply caring for each other’s fate.
A man passionately talks about a Ghotul. A tribal arrangement of living together. He urges us to find ourselves in other people. He talks of community as the ultimate privilege.
Societies that forget to eat, drink and dance together have an epidemic of loneliness. Joy does not come from just eating, it comes from eating together.
It’s day 3 and I am an alien. I smile at people. I cry in my room. Someone knocks at my door, I quickly mumble ‘there’s no one inside’ and then realize my mistake. My roommate tells me most earnestly that it’s okay to ask for support. Her own voice shakes. I hesitate. She says I am allowed to take up space. I shrink.
It’s day 4 and I am wondering what it takes to be a good activist. A true changemaker.
An answer is offered: learn how to be happy first.
I wonder if I deny myself joy. Perhaps I deny myself emotions that feel good because I am addicted to my sadness. It feels familiar. Fear feels familiar. I could spell shame the day I turned one.
There is a juicy fruit. This fruit has fallen upon my lap and it drips sweetness. I hold it in my palm, its divine scent reaching my nose, led by the coolest breeze. The fruit offers itself to me. It’s in my palm and I only need my hand to travel the distance to my mouth to taste its richness. But I am paralyzed. This fruit is ripe and plump, a piece of life. I resist its goodness, I restrict the breeze. Why? I suffer and I suffer. My mind is relentless and my heart hesitates.
This fruit in my hand is good, it represents all that is sacred in life. Then why do I fret? The soft flesh of my body asks to be fed and delighted, my bones ask for rest. Then why do I fret? I think of a poem by Thomas Merton, a wise man I think.
“Give yourself wine, give yourself bread. Sit. feast on your life.”
It’s day 5, we are in a forest and I am losing track of time. One foot in the river, another on rocks. In between holding ground and letting go, I am reminded of a word that comes difficult to me: trust.
On trust
The fabric of life is a five letter word. I make my intentions known to the universe and then I let go. The next best thing to trust after the universe is each other.
I must eat in the houses of other people. I must drink from the community taps. I must ask the whereabouts of my neighbors. In older times, suppose my house got damaged, I could rely on those in my neighborhood to come and help rebuild it. In exchange for a meal, a laugh, a promise of presence when things go bad for them. Now, in modern society, we have house insurance. Everything is slowly being replaced by things that can be bought by money. Immeasurable things like support and friendship now have a price put to them so that they can be made a commodity, a cheap substitute for the joy of feeling part of a whole just so they can be exchanged in the market. We are living a narrative of mistrust. To trust in people, then, is to rebel. I’ve always loved a good rebellion.
On the question of purpose
I am slowly starting to see the irrelevance of the question: What is the purpose of life? Who knows? Who cares? Life is legitimized by participation. Human beings were not meant to understand the world, certainly not define it. No point in trying to look for lyrics for an instrumental song.
What is the purpose of life? Who knows?
My grandma answers it better when she says: Bhagwaan jaane. भगवान जाने. God knows.
Jo nahi pata usko bhagwaan maanke chalo. जो नहीं पता उसको भगवान मानके चलो
What you don’t understand, call God and keep moving.
On the multiplicity of truths:
ये ही सही है ये भी सही है This is the truth This is a truth
Science is one way of approaching truth. Art is another. On themes of life, all roads lead to the same crux: the magic of being alive.
Knowledge also cannot save us. That era is gone. Singing and dancing around the fire might.
When we speak of the climate crisis, a blame game is futile. It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, what’s the point in comparing the lengths of a chain in a prison?
When I talk of research and say words like science, data and evidence, I must remember that science is still a narrow cognitive project. It is funded by people with biases and performed by people whose hands tremble. I must remember that the exact opposite of a profound statement can still be equally profound. Instinct trust, science thrusts. I must remember that I am a drinker of wine, not an accountant of wine cups. I must learn to love the sea I am building a ship to sail through.
Random list of things I find funny:
Economics believes that humans create value.
How a clinic for plastic surgery in my neighbourhood is called 'Be You"
Language is invented googoogaga
That I must accept myself to improve myself.
Destroying private property is vandalism but destroying public property like forests is “growth”
We are all going to die hahaha
How Indians praise beautiful places in India saying “doesn’t seem like it’s India”
How some tribal communities do not have a word for ‘self-esteem’ because self is an amorphous idea, nor do they have a word for “teaching” because nothing is taught, yet everything is learnt.
The happiest people I know have made so much space for all parts of them to co-exist.
What we pray for is what we pray to~
Who do I worship? What do I respect?
I have noticed that we pray to the money gods and take from the Nature Gods. No wonder they're angry. No wonder they are unforgiving. We must pray to our step wells, to our trees, to our breeze. Why should we play their game? Who is us and who is them? My only allegiance is to life.
My gods are the sun, the moon, the fallen fruit nobody else yields authority. My prayer is a belief in the abundance that these Gods willingly grant. My bag is full of fruit.
How will I change the world when I can’t live with my mother?
Someone in the forest said to me: If you think you're enlightened, spend 10 days with your mother. It reminds me of an old song lyric, stuck in my brain: इंसान से भागे फिरते हो भगवान को क्या तुम पाओगे?
You run from human beings, how will you find God?
There is an instinct to hide within me. It is the same instinct that insists I be “good” before I can be a person. अच्छा नहीं, इंसान बनो. I tell my tired self that I need not be good. I do not have to be good. Mary Oliver also agrees. I do not have to be good.
The only way out is in
There is no running away. I carried my misery all the way to the mountains. The mountains only reflect what I hold within. I must have the courage to sit in silence with myself, listen to my heart, tell my brain to shut up and still be kind to everything I do not want to see and hear. Inner work is really a lifelong process. If I am to be healthy, I must go through with the inner work. No running.
I must believe in the victory of life
I asked someone "what does success look like to you?" He said "That's a useless question. Ask me instead what a good life looks like." I must not let a grand idea of success be a tyrant to the present moment. I place my faith in small successes. Today, I watered my plants successfully. Today, I write from the heart. I no more wish to carry the unnecessary tyranny of words like success, productivity, and career .
If you're alive, you might as well believe in the victory of life. If there is heaven somewhere, bring it down to earth.
तू ज़िन्दा है तो ज़िन्दगी की जीत में यकीन कर,
अगर कहीं है स्वर्ग तो उतार ला ज़मीन पर!
Heaven as a practice, not a promise
I must imagine a heaven and bring it down on earth. Everyday.
Visions of heaven
I have a vision of heaven. There’s live music, coconut water is abundant, there's endless fruit orchards. Grandmothers tell stories in front yards and the children run barefoot on soil. Everyone feeds each other and there is a fire to dance around. No one is above or beneath anything else. Nobody talks of freedom because it is already granted by life. We worship the trees and rain.
My role on earth
This is my task on earth. To carry song and dance within me. To carry love abundantly. This task is regardless of what I am doing. I promise to never see life merely as a source for suffering. That’s an occasional occurrence that I honour. To not succumb to circumstance. To be nothing but a source of joy. To hold myself till I know what trust means and believe in the victory of life. To return to the innate intelligence of this body and the wisdom of my ancestors. To see life only as a source of that which I seek. To continuously keep learning. To be present in the moment that passes me by.
One last thing
I am going to tell you that which you were born knowing. You are good, you are wonderful, you can trust your desires to tell you the path. You need not hide from yourself because you do not want to wake up to your power. You have been told you’re not good. You have been reminded in a million ways. The ones who told you are hurt themselves. Don’t believe them. They don’t know. Don't blame them. Hurt people hurt people.
All that you know and will ever need to know is in your heart, return to your own intelligence. You do not have to be good, you are only required to be a person, alive and trusting.
Alive and trusting.
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