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A Street Puppy’s Guide to Indian Religious Wisdom
Okay, first things first, you have to acknowledge I am special. At least in the sense that I am a subversion of centuries of scientific understanding.
But before I describe my unique predicament, I wish to briefly express my thoughts on the topic of religion with you.
Did I say wish? Scrap that. It is a pressing inner need really – a need to express thoughts on the Hindu religion, thoughts that are thrusting themselves from within, demanding articulation. And which, I realise, is bizarrely unconnected to the situation I’m finding myself in.
First, those thoughts. The Hindu religion is India’s greatest strength and is superior to all other faiths of the world, asserts the zealous right-wing. No, it is the country’s lasting curse that promotes irrationality and oppression, argues the liberal left-wing. The right-wing calls those liberals, colonised and deracinated. The liberals call the right-wing, bigots and hate-mongers.
Who do you side with in this argument? What are your thoughts?
If you ask me, though there’s no way I can do it right now, I feel like letting out a big, lazy yawn to both the sides.
It’s not that I am areligious, I am a deeply religious person. I have, in fact, spent a good two decades of my last life studying this religion and its philosophy. And also practising and teaching it.
The argument doesn’t interest me because I see both sides to be appallingly clueless and ill-informed when it comes to the essential core of this religion.
What do I mean by that? Allow me to explain.
Oops! I’m jerked out of my reverie by the sudden movement of my mother.
Dear mom! If you don’t mind, can you please settle down in one place and let me think in peace?
In case you are wondering, let me tell you, being in a womb is not at all easy. Your limbs hit against a solid muscle wall whenever you try moving them. You are soaked in the red of your mother’s protective yet constraining uterus and the complete darkness around. And also, in a deep silence – except the rhythmic beating of your mother’s heart and the occasional muffled sounds of the world outside. The last thing you need at such a time is an annoyingly hyperactive mother as mine who seems to like flaunting her ability to move when I can’t, tossing me around quite a bit.
Where were we? Religion as the cause of societal polarisation, yes. To take a step back and get at the very root of the issue, have you ever wondered why mankind created this institution called religion? Was it a tool for human morality? Was imagining a big daddy or mummy up in the sky watching over us, a prerequisite for you and me to act morally? Or was it just a social tool that helped strangers come together and cooperate?
Perhaps it served and is serving those functions. However, all that, to be objective, is just the outer aspect of religion. A moral scaffolding human society was built on.
And when you take Hinduism, that moral scaffolding-part looks unbelievably complex. The religion has no single messiah to accept, no single religious scripture to follow and no clear, prescribed path to adopt. It just looks like an expansive mash-up composed of many eclectic, unrelated sects, each with its own, unique set of practices and beliefs.
But is it just that? Definitely not.
A colourful beaded necklace has a thread that runs through and unites all the beads, a thread that is barely visible to naked eye. Likewise, when it comes to Hinduism, underpinning all those varied, eclectic sects, there are some sublime philosophical traditions.
Surprisingly, not many Hindus are aware of or terribly interested in these. At least not from a practical viewpoint.
This book is about one of those philosophies. A philosophy expounded by illustrious seers and saints like Swami Vivekananda, Adhi Shankara and Ramana Maharishi. A philosophy embodied in the Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita and Brahma Sutra. The philosophy of Advaita.
In my last life, I remember being deeply saddened and pained at the way this religion is followed by the majority. In a quiet, secluded ashram at the outskirts of the large city I mentioned earlier, I remember devoting my life for seva. It was the ashram of a not-widely-known Advaitic Guru. He was not a man of words. I remember serving as his aid, learning and then teaching the philosophy to as many people as I can, till I was alive. And I also remember that it deeply touched and transformed many people’s hearts.
This sharing too, I guess, is a continuation of that. Who knows? Perhaps this is a promotion of sorts. Perhaps a life of a spiritual Guru is awaiting me on the outside.
Ah, at last. The red walls around me are contracting, but this time I welcome the movement. I know it. I am going to be born! I’m going out! I feel like dancing right now, but I keep still and be a good child for my mother’s sake.
I feel an intense surge of happiness in these last few moments of being a foetus. I eagerly look forward to this life. And to the chance of sharing this wisdom with as many people as I can.
I come out as a soiled red puddle. And feel the sun on my face for the first time. Obviously. My tiny eyes plop open and their hazy vision takes in the wispy clouds that are scattered across the sky.
My life story for this birth, my philosophical sharing can all wait for a few hours. Right now, I’m too busy enjoying the lazy warmth on my face and the luxury of the space around me.
I stretch my legs and smile to myself when they don’t hit a red muscle wall.
Ah, this is life!
*
Two Days Later
The birds are chirping their noisy morning melody. A fresh windy day. But nothing cheers me up. I feel like the other face of the weather that is mercifully absent today. Dark. Gloomy. My head is filled with angry storm clouds.There is an aching emptiness in my stomach and my heart. But only the former bothers me right now.
Dear mother and father, I can’t help but get angry with you. Where are you both? Is this the way you treat your child – someone who is possibly destined to become a Dalai Lama or something in the future? Or is my life supposed to begin like this – as an abandoned baby?
Anyway, where were we with our discussion? I was talking about the easy religion of habit vs the deeper philosophy of this religion. Now, let us get into that philosophy part.
Yes, I know. A just-born baby wanting to share philosophy even as it is in a good deal of physical pain and also desperately hungry! Bizarre and farfetched, surely! In response, I can only quote a famous psychologist for you – ‘A musician must make music, an artist must paint…if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself.’ And in extension, a philosopher, that is me, must philosophise. Especially if that’s the only sense of peace that is available for him. So, though my stomach, head and legs are all still hurting badly, please allow me to get into the first postulate of Advaita. If ritualism is just the starting point of religion, what does Advaita offer us in addition?
Wait. There’s a big shadow looming over me. And by big, I mean massive! Who is this big guy clad in a dirty white veshti? And why is he towering over me? Hey, if you don’t move away right now you biggie, I’ll chew your head off, I swear. Grr!
Just as I’m about to turn around, I feel a strong calloused hand wrap around my middle. I’m shocked. What is this? Am I in a land of giants? I am too stunned to even protest.
For an awful moment, I’m hanging upside down, the ground swaying beneath me and my world suddenly losing all sense of balance. And then everything is right again, and I settle into the hands of that big man.
‘Hello little one, where’s your mother?’ He looks around saying that. ‘Someone has hurt you really bad, huh? Don’t worry…don’t worry,’ he strokes my back softly with his other hand, a warm smile across his lips.
I watch everything in a trance-like state, intoxicated by the unexpected comfort I’m experiencing.
And then I catch a glimpse of my reflection in one particularly hideous car.
What?
No!
This isn’t for real!
I am dreaming. That must be it.
Me, dog? A dog?
No, no. No! I’m not a dog. I’m definitely not a dog. I know who I am. I am a human. For sure. Why am I caught up in a dog’s body? What kind of cosmic plan is this?
‘Bow!’ my anguish escapes as a puny bark as I open my mouth.
The big man turns his head down and smiles at me, stroking me softly again.
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