How Gurukulam Learning Differs from Regular Education, Part 6

What I value most from my time at the gurukulam apart from the teachings which have held me in good stead in my life’s highs and lows are the relationships that I formed there. Usually we tend to make the best of friendships in school and college, or with those we grow up with; our relatives, cousins, neighbours. As adults it is really tough to strike that innocent chord and allow for the outpourings of deep affection for a stranger. Interestingly, a stay at the gurukulam radically changes this reality and all such false perceptions. An instant bond is formed, a community to call our own, irrespective of the individual issues and differences. All the while a lot of learning is done simply by interacting with our sahapāṭhīs. There is a lot of exposure to various minds, their questions help answer your own, and their behaviour, observed in close proximity influences your own. This is the actual satsanga as it is all guided by dharma.

There were joint families a few decades ago - and I have had the privilege of experiencing some of its largesse in my early years - big and hearty, they took care of individuals in times good and bad, not leaving anyone behind; an orphan, a widow, a mentally or physically challenged relative, a poor cousin, all found succour under its giant shade. Then came the nuclear family but there were always childhood friends and affectionate neighbours who stepped into this familial role, when the large family went missing. What with Hindus globe trotting and the diaspora increasing day by day, what with migrations happening day in and out even within India and people uprooting themselves from their known spaces like no one’s business, it is no surprise that we are seeing all sorts of psychological and mental issues crop up. Having lived in the West for almost a quarter of a century I know how lonely it can get there without people to call your own, those who accept you as you are and come to your aid without being asked. Someone to spend the lazy Wednesday afternoon with chatting about nothing in particular.

When one belongs to a religious group or a particular spiritual sampradāya this need is very well taken care of. I have been fortunate to find friends among the Arsha Vidya community (and Chinmaya Mission), people who have taken care of me in a myriad ways.  Along with them I also found mentors and gurus who have guided me in the right direction and helped me become who I am today. To all of them I bow my head in love and gratitude. I now have a global network of well-wishers whom I can safely call my own. I wish this for everyone who is in search of camaraderie. Find your people. Until the time you do can do with or without them. Being spiritual does not mean that we have to cut off all ties. Being detached or having vairāgyam is not about looking down on others or getting irritated with them or not wanting them in our lives. It simply means that I recognize the impermanence of it all and thus am not too invested in the person, place or thing as a source of permanent happiness. It means that I have reorganized my priorities and will populate my life with people who will help me along in my spiritual journey, i.e. I will be invested in a satsanga, not in relationships which are detrimental to my spiritual growth.

When I first reached AVG in the winter of 2012, Shankar ji (now Svāmī Shankarananda ji) asked me, “so you are here for mokṣa is it?”, and I was dumbfounded, what did he mean by that? It sounded a bit off too, seeing as I was coming in from the ‘regular’ world where we did not talk of mokṣa ever. Yes, I was keen on studying śāstra (for this inexplicable interest since a young age I thank my ancestors and my genes) but wanting mokṣa, what did it really mean? He stated it matter of factly and I simply smiled. Shankar ji then turned to Radhika ji (now Svāminī Aaptananda ji) and said, “perhaps she has adhikāritvam (qualifications needed to study and respect the śāstra as it ought to be) - or else why would Pūjya Svāmī jī take her into the course so late in the day”.  I could neither respond regarding mokṣa nor did I appreciate what he meant by adhikāritvam at that time.

Today if he were to ask me the same question regarding adhikāritvam, I would be much more humble and say it is by the grace of my ancestors, my parents, my gurus and the gods that I am here. And regarding mokṣa, I would not hesitate to answer a resounding, ‘yes’. śāstra tells us that mokṣa is in the here and now - that we can be free of insecurity and fear right here and now and that we need not continue as a hamster caught on a rotating wheel for lifetimes together. Such a path breaking knowledge system exists here (for those who want it and have trust in it), which can change the course of public discourse and transform many lives, yet has found no takers in schools and colleges! From Svāmī Vivekananda to Srī Aurobindo to Ramana Maharishi to Nisargadatta Maharaj to Amma, to all the various saints and sages of this land, they all have spoken of one and one thing only, the ultimate happiness that lies within that is waiting for us to re-discover it, to uncover it. That there is a system of knowledge which removes our ignorance of the Self, and shows us who we are in all our splendour, right here and right now. And all this is offered for free.

But there is no place for such knowledge in our academia. Nor in our educational institutions wherein we continue to superimpose our smallness on our grandness via competition, via envy and jealousy, by running a rat’s race, by internalizing the falsehood that is taught to us in the name of freedom and liberty; how are we to be free and independent if we are slaves to our wavering emotions and our vacillating feelings? How are we free if we are constantly caught up in the past regrets and future anxieties without ever being in the present?

A short class of 30 mins of yoga or prāṇāyāma calling it fancy names like ‘alternate nostril breathing for a steady mind’ will not cut it. We need a more detailed understanding of who we are and where we come from and where we are going. The purāṇas and itihāsas do a great job of this by exploring the various aspects of the varṇāśramadharma and puruṣārthas, so that we may make educated choices in our lives. This is enabled by focussing on mokṣa  and not so much on artha, kāma, dharma, which will happen naturally, as a by-product. A cognitive shift has to be made consciously from identifying with the body mind sense complex to one’s svarūpa which is sat cit ānanda. We need to know and to educate our youth too that we can make a conscious choice; to not resort to compulsive behaviour and that we can exercise our freedom to say ‘no’ when confronted with adharma.

For example I could have exercised my right to say no to more sleep and gotten up when Mio did. Mio you see was always up at 3.30am every morning, she would complete her ablutions and would wash her clothes, then climb up to the terrace to hang them to dry on the clothesline at around 4.30 am. I am not sure if this is because of the famed Japanese work ethic but it did give me a complex for sometime. I discovered this accidentally - for of course I was asleep at 3.30am most days. One night Vasanthi jī (now Brahmaleena Svāminī Vidyananda jī) and I decided to sleep on the terrace to enjoy the full moon. We slept late after a heart to heart and some chit-chat only to wake up to tinkling sounds of anklets and a figure in white gliding past. After the initial scare of assuming this to be a ghost we found ourselves face to face with Mio! It was then that I started noticing how diligent she was. She never missed any class, any pūjā, any talk, any group study, any sevā. And not only was she hardworking, she was also extremely respectful and friendly. When my mother came for a visit, Mio, although not a close friend, made sure that she wished ammā whenever she saw her, asked after her well-being, enquiring politely how amma liked the gurukulam and so on. So much so that amma assumed Mio was a dear friend. Mio has left a lasting impression on me ever since and I have tried to emulate her diligence and friendliness especially when in the gurukulam.

Then there was Yoko too. Yoko’s room was immaculate at any time of the day. Given how hectic our schedule was it was a miracle that she found time to keep her room so beautiful and neat. She would get up early in the morning and sweep and mop on all fours, wash her clothes, do pūjā at her altar in the room (which was so gorgeous) and only then step out. What I did learn from her was cleaning up the place that I reside in - daily. It is not that I have lived in mess before, just that house cleaning does not come naturally to Indians who have had maids all their lives and most of us do. After Yoko’s example, I have never shied away from lifting up a broom or a mop. And I have made sure that my altar is prettified wherever I am, even when travelling when I carry my ‘utsava’ devatās with me. I offer a flower or a fruit and light a candle if nothing else. What in fact took my breath away was Lakshmi ji’s room - usually we never entered each other’s rooms unless invited, also we had hardly any time to socialize - so this one time when I got a chance to peep into her room, Lakshmi ji was from Russia, it looked like she had just moved in. The room was sparse with absolutely nothing personal in it except for a plate and glass. A suitcase in a corner and a few books on the table. That was it. It was a huge learning curve for me that someone could live with so little even by gurukulam standards and still be so happy.  

During our evening walks around the gurukulam premises Gina and I would talk about various personal issues and how to look at problems anew now that we had this knowledge at hand. It was amazing to hear an American Jewish person speak of dharma, karma, punarjanma with absolute conviction. This strengthened my own beliefs in the bargain. Coming as it were at a time when I was still deeply mired in the western convent educated mores. Leandra, another American Jewish person whom I met in Rishikesh on Vasanta Pancami a decade ago, continues to be a friend I can go to for solace and support. We hit it off instantly, sampling parathas and street food, learning shlokas and mantras, discussing the sacred and the sensuous, apprising ourselves of Telugu culture and customs, and what not, since she had also been to Hyderabad.

Meanwhile Svāminī Sumatamananda jī (who was studying in the course as a student) would drop by in the evenings to check on me, Naval would help me pay my mobile bills online, Vibhuti would give me a head massage after a rough Sanskrit class, Radhika jī would warn me about certain unsavoury men and ask me to keep my distance,  she also shared Andhra pickles with me apart from coaching me in sanskr̩itam, Lakshya (Eloise, who was Dutch and Indonesian)  would take me shopping to Giri traders and celebrate my birthday in Coimbatore, all the while not missing her daily yoga practice, Nandana (now Brahmacāriṇī Nandana Chaitanya) would treat us all ever so often with ice cream and snacks from the city, Shriti jī (now Svāminī Tattvapriyananda jī) would secretly leave the previous day’s jasmine strand that had adorned the deity at my door, to my delight, Manasvini jī (now Svāminī Vimuktananda jī) would regale me with her bhakti ladden music, her stories from the Bhāgavatam, as she was from Vrindavan, and Julie jī (now Brahmacāriṇī Janani Chaitanya) would advise me on what texts and whom to listen to next. It was like being in a boarding school, yet with the freedom and independence of being an adult. Such shared experiences with those who have a common pursuit and goal are so precious.

Now of course not every foreigner who joined the gurukulam turned out to be a Medha Michika, a Lakshya, a Jonas Massetti or a Janani Chaitanya. Many went away even before the completion of the course, unable to handle the tight discipline that was expected of them to participate in this live experiment. Living in close proximity with so many people from different backgrounds, religions, ages, outlooks requires us to be hypersensitive on how we behave in public. One wrong move or word can be detrimental to the whole gurukulam. What one does in a family - adjust and accommodate - is what one does at a much higher scale in a gurukulam. There were those who could not appreciate this type of expectation and went away bitter or broken. There were also those who came with a specific agenda to disrupt the calm of the atmosphere, goaded either by personal egos or by a ‘foreign hand’ of which there is no dearth in India! Then there were those who wanted to learn the vision but refused to abide by the cultural norms - gorging on food with both hands, staying out late outside the gurukulam, speaking ill of the teachers, mocking rituals, questioning and interfering in Hindu practices, it was one big cauldron of boiling emotions on which one had to do tightrope walking daily. But in the end this type of living teaches us a lot. How to manage people, how to manage our emotions, how to navigate differences and how to eventually find peace and quiet within oneself.

Authored by Kavita Krishna Meegama. Published by Brhat.