Micro Death

I stand on the platform of a suburb on the outskirts of Mumbai. Only school kids and laborers around, looking as out of place as I have looked most of my life. Only an auto ride separates me from the promised land. But there is some business still pending before I can kiss society goodbye. After a month of thorough planning, there are still loose ends left. Of course, one can never make a clean exit. As the fateful day approaches, your vision becomes narrower, distractions fall off your schedule automatically, only the essentials remain. Only three people left to call: Mom, manager and accountant.

Final emails sent, essential funds transferred and last goodbyes said, I entered the estate that was to be my Vipassana center for the next ten days, totally cut off from the outside world. It felt like a micro death. And going by how much I had to prepare for it, I think actual death will have to be met unprepared, not that it is known to make prior reservations anyway. I had been waiting for this for years, perhaps more than a decade. But ten days always seemed like a lot to pull off even for someone who is self-employed and seemingly places a lot of value on individual freedom. For a salaried person who lives on limited ‘casual leaves’ and has family responsibilities, it seems impossible. Yet, here we were. 20 odd people from across age groups and backgrounds, willingly dying to society for ten full days.

Not that there was any precedent for this practice in my family or close friends. It just seemed like the right; or at least, most right thing to do for a student of philosophy. All other intellectual pursuits we undertake are half-baked or fully doomed to fail. From improving our daily routine to watching what we eat to actually meditating. The half-ass attempts we do make end up being more disappointing than the actual mess our lives have become. Vipassana seemed like the military grade treatment my indiscipline needed.

Almost a decade into leaving my job and pursuing my passion has had its perks. But I don’t feel I am closer to any ultimate truth, if there is such a thing. Or at least a calm that ought to arise from not wanting to know any more. I am afraid that even after years, decades of writing, standup and fiercely independent pursuit this yearning will stay till the very end. I think about my death bed a lot. Partly because I am an only child in an already nuclear family. And largely because I have the time. Most people fill this time up with cricket, conflicts and grandkids. But with none of these things crowding my to-do list, there is a constant sense of finality I live with.

Maybe I have a soft corner for Buddhism. A faint hope that religion can still be redemptive. But of course, the whole thing falls apart if you don’t believe in karma and rebirth. The point was to go with an open mind. The course makes it abundantly clear that there are no rituals or religious elements involved. Only practice. Yes, that is exactly what we need. Hard core practice. Enough small talk, podcasts and procrastination. It was time to get real.

Whether you getting up from a particular side of the bed implies free will or not, whether the hunter-gatherer stage of constant battle for survival was a true state of bliss, whether the world is ruled by lizard people who don’t want you to do magic mushrooms are all but academic questions. If I am theoretically convinced about something, I just go for it without letting personal likes, dislikes and gut feelings get in the way. But the sheer paperwork I had to do to afford 10 days off the grid was monumental. Living without attachments and MoUs seems impossible in the modern world. I wasn’t expecting any miracles, just a detox of the mind. Just to be in the midst of some trees is a treat for a Mumbaikar living in the costliest yet ugliest homes in the world. The boarding school schedule Vipassana follows and the satvik food were a bonus.

You have heard many versions or have many preconceived notions about such camps but in a sentence, this micro death was as intense as it was boring. The first few days are spent worrying about what must be happening back home, at work and in the market in general. But these are tricks the mind plays to escape this Satvik prison. No one misses you. The world goes on and will go on after you are gone. There is solace to be found in that. That what you perceive as your life’s ongoing struggles can simply be approached as a game instead. With no toys and no internet the mind is forced to confront itself. Think of it as a system formatting. All the junk files and folders you thought you had deleted come up. You don’t even have to grapple with them, just observe them. It’s as if all they wanted was attention. With years of practice you would complete the entire backlog, all the pending homework from childhood to last week. And then; maybe, a calm horizon opens up in your mind with no pressing concerns about tomorrow or regrets about yesterday. Just the next meal perhaps. As ordinary as that sounds, it is the closest thing to divinity in a secular and sober context.

There may not be any dragons or fairies in our suburban lives. But we do live in fantasy all the time. An unhealthy fantasy of religious politicians, honest businessmen and humble celebrities. We live almost entirely in the virtual world, not than the real one where bridges are falling, children are being slaughtered and the rent is due. Matrix is around us, just not as slick as the movies. It is passive consumption but the emotions the mind experiences are real. More than governments and the military it is the copious consumption of media that has created a world where thousands of people can be bombed daily while we debate semantics. We only have a limited store of empathy and we’ve spent all of it on trash that can’t even be called entertainment. And there seems to be no way to stop. Even a 10-day forced cleanse seemed welcome

Of course, my vantage point of academic interest in this trial offer of death is very privileged. The rest of the batch was as slice of life as it gets. A retired uncle who has done this 7 times before, a musician who claimed this high lasts longer than weed, a government employee who had come because it was part of policy and a young man trying to get over a breakup. At any point, the national waiting list to get into one of these courses is in thousands. So there are enough and more people looking for answers beyond self-help books and superstitions. But against the total population this number is still microscopic. Most people just suffer life as it happens to them, hurting themselves and others along the way. Most of our pursuits are like repairing a car while it is moving, never thinking that you can stop by the curb and figure it out.

There is nothing to lose. Time is passing by anyway. No amount of fame, luxury and wealth are going to be enough. And before you know it, it’ll be time to go. In all the LinkedIn-Can-Do-Tech-Bro-Gusto we have forgotten that reflection is also an option. Maybe you won’t end up at the top of the ladder. But when it’s time to clean out your desk, at least you’ll know what your own thoughts are and what damage you’ve caused to yourself and the world around you. Eventually you will get bored of both scarcity and abundance. A conscious existence is way more rewarding than a decadent one.

On the tenth day of your micro death you are supposed to break your vow of silence to prepare to re-enter the outside world. I was so used to the silence by now that I wasn’t looking forward to talking again. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a big fan of talking. Most of what we utter is avoidable and the things we really need to say are never met with the courage they require. You also get your mobile back by mid-day on the tenth day and then it is over. All the noise of the world is now back in your mind. The remote location, the greenery, the satvik food, all come to naught. One look at Twitter after a week of peace and I actually got palpitations, so toxic is our discourse and even general banter.

I had one interview and two big shows scheduled as soon as I got out. While I got through these, it took me more than a month to perform on stage in full form again. I guess the angst needed to impose your opinion on a crowd of strangers needs the toxicity of city life to bleed back into your veins. Whether you see this as adaptation or the meditative state as weakness is but a matter of perception.

The closest I have come to a combination of the two is when I spent the second lockdown in the hills with no return ticket. But I wouldn’t wish another lockdown on the world just so that I can take a break without the courage of letting go. I could get used to the Vipassana life though. Brushing my teeth with the setting sun, having finished my dinner of murmure and chai. No one to impress, no videos to be released, no tickets to be sold. But this is a bubble, a simulation, an imposition. The biggest giveaway is that genders are segregated. If half the population of the world is the biggest obstacle between your esteemed self and nirvana then any spiritual goals you aspire to are not even close to practical.

If every mental state is only a point on a spectrum of neurosis, perhaps what people claim to be enlightenment or nirvana is also an extreme form of psychosis, the ultimate denial of death. Not through distractions or building monuments in your name but by claiming death doesn’t even exist because life itself is an illusion.

But why then does a lingering feeling of an ideal world exist? If there is something akin to a higher/universal plain of consciousness should it not be more accessible to more people? ‘Human beings are flawed creatures’ — is an oft repeated but seldom questioned statement. Does it not imply that there is a template of perfection or righteousness out there somewhere to which we don’t live up. Even if we give up on the bigger picture of higher consciousness, very few people are satisfied by their own actions and conduct. Most people know they can be better, the rest are narcissists.

And if this much touted higher plane does exist, it doesn’t lend itself very well to daily pedestrian life does it? From crossing a busy street to negotiating a business deal to the meticulous yet mundane tasks that make up every day life. A person tripping on ‘egoless awareness’ is a liability, to society, to himself, he does not even exist. My take is that people who do reach a rarefied (let’s not say higher) state never broadcast it. If all needs have dissolved, the need to preach would be long gone. If all desires have vanished, the desire to change the world; even for the better, does not arise. They simply blend into the elements when the time comes like all life has for eons. In the Buddhist tradition, Buddhas chose to come back to the earthly realm till every last soul has been freed of the tyranny of cyclical births and deaths. But that remains a matter of faith. It is a great story but one that you can only finish yourself.

I guess everyone is looking for a sense of completion in their life’s story. The uninitiated do it through rituals and procreation. The worldly-wise do it through social and financial milestones. And those who have studied too much for their own good chase it through philosophy. Who ends up experiencing more happiness in life; or death, could be the topic of a worthy dissertation. But once you’ve read JD, you can’t go back. And once you’ve read UG, you can’t move forward either. I am struggling just like the rest of you. Just that I have better words to express my struggle. In fact, I have made that very struggle my vocation.

To be born in an era/circumstance where being kind is an actual option is by itself such a huge stroke of luck. Almost all of human history has been murder and deceit. Kings did it through war, civilians did it through petty crime, domestic abuse and casteism. Mellower emotions have always been reserved for one’s own genepool. Anything beyond has been met with distrust, profiteering and outright violence. Most people haven’t even had a fair chance of leading a peaceful life. Maybe that is where true kindness begins, in realizing that even those who are not kind themselves are deserving of consideration. And by doing that you negate your sense of superiority — where selfishness and selflessness finally blend into one.

• Punit Pania