What staying in an ashram taught me about atheism

New Indian Express

3 days ago

I belong to a religious minority in India – atheists. Only 3 per cent of Indians identify as atheists. There was no 'Moolshankar' moment for me. I grew up in a strict, conservative family and studied in an ashram. I was forced to meditate for three hours and pray for a few more. After years, I just gave up. I wasn't angry at God; I just lost his number. I hate the word atheist. It's such a harsh, metallic word – like 'dentist' or 'activist'. I prefer the term 'free-range believer', or 'agnostic with trust issues', or 'spiritually single, not ready to mingle'.
Over the last week, I have been living in a spiritual ashram after all these years. A place where chants blend with birds chirping. Mosquitoes are bad karma, and walking barefoot is the ultimate sadhana. I have been meeting lots of people here, a motley crew of honky-tonk spiritual freelancers you usually find in an ashram. There are the travellers – they've been to Peru, Bali, and Pushkar. Their bags carry herbal teas and trauma. They speak slowly, as if enlightenment depends on word count.
Then there are the settlers. They arrived 20 years ago to stay for the weekend. They now run cafes serving appam wraps and tantra pizza. They wear loose clothes, speak Sanskrit with a German accent, and refuse to use spoons. Others who have given up on family and are seeking refuge from the law of the land. They are vague about their origins, but up-to-date with the latest cryptocurrency strategies.
Life here begins early in the morning. I visit the temple and try to meditate for an hour. This is followed by Q&A sessions that are as exciting as corporate Monday morning meetings. The questions are about ending suffering; the answers say nothing is real. I then spent the next few hours trying to calm my mind or finish writing the project I came here to finish. Prayer sessions are like karaoke nights, and I stay away from the mic. Yoga is taught by a man who looks like Gandhi's friend but bends like Houdini. By the end of the day, I go to bed early, without alcohol swimming in my bloodstream. Don't get me wrong. I am not a yogi. If anything, I am a Bhogi – a reveller in worldly pleasures. But my demands are limited – Filter coffee, AC, western toilets, and 5G.
Being an atheist in an ashram taught me that there's a lot to borrow from religious practices like meditation, and the joys of a community. Surprisingly, I found that we aren't very different from each other. Neither side is too sure of themselves. I spoke to people chasing enlightenment for decades, who still are unsure of what's going on in the cosmos. As an atheist, I speak on behalf of rational thinking and science. But I am unsure of most of it. Believers seek enlightenment and sacrifice everything for it. Scientists chase answers to the big questions. To a neutral alien from Neptune, science and scientists could seem like an obsessed cult that believes in their own truth.
But most importantly, I found that both sides of the fence required their daily fix. Just as I cannot function without coffee in my system, a seeker feels restless till they have meditated. Like I structure my day around my gym, I found people extremely meticulous and finicky about their daily ablutions. I have shared cigarettes with babas who repaid me with blessings. Maybe we're not so different. We believe in something, are 90 per cent sure, and need coffee first thing in the morning.
(The writer's views are personal)