Ranajit Guha started the subaltern studies group long ago in Switzerland. He and his cohorts curiously left out itinerant monks, Christian nuns and sadhus in general from his study of virtually every aspect of Indian life. I have been always interested in the life of what goes on behind the veil. Today being Good Friday and Holi, I thought of looking into a much maligned and misunderstood aspect of Indian society.

I am not here talking of god-men or gurus. I am talking of those young men and women who are leading quiet lives when they could have had great careers and most probably, excellent families. Yet they gave it all up and seek themselves.

What is of concern is that fewer people of merit are joining both Hindu and Christian monastic sects. The famous Naga sadhus now have very few ideologically motivated and intellectually brilliant candidates among them. Our nation faces a serious crisis today, something that no mainstream media-person will deal with unless there is some perversion involved. We forget that marriages do not lose their efficacy and beauty just because there are too many divorces these days. Neither should we neglect the monastic life just because plenty do not feel there is a God to begin with and most cannot be celibate. Also we must not confuse true monasticism with the fanatic polemics of zealots, either Hindu or Christian.

In a society glutted with sensuality and greed for wealth and the search for status, I present below a few lives which may goad you, my patient reader, to reflect on your own life.

The Ramakrishna Mission, Head Quarters Belur

There is a Swami I know personally. He is about 35 now. Cool guy. He was a regular at the Tantra (discotheque at the Park) and an IIT alumnus. He has an MBA and liked the finer things in life. Worked for TCS, Cognizant Technologies and then one day he tells me, he was having the time of his life at a work-place lunch when his life changed. Till then he never cared for God, religious lives and all that bunkum. There he was, there the grub was, and all the people everywhere. Those pretty girls, the smiling boss and the soft lights of the restaurant. He suddenly felt at one with all of them, mama mia; I feel I love all of these people here, he suddenly saw everything, everyone as One Being. The moment passed, and he was left a quieter man who woke the morrow morn. Nothing anymore appealed to him. Not sex, not money, nor learning. He thought he was getting depressed. Dutifully he visited a counselor. It was through the latter that my friend the Swami, got to know that he might have a vocation. Under advice, he visited the Ramakrishna Mission. Voila! He felt happy there. The ochre robes pulled him. Finally he got the courage to tell everyone about his desire to leave them all for good. Now he is a geek living happily there. Though he once in a while misses the dancing, but then he says, I am only human.

Monastery of Christ the King, behind St. Xavier’s College, Calcutta.

The Roman Catholic Church has a long history of retirement from the world. Over the centuries young people at the peak of their careers have been touched by the fire of Love. In the heart of Kolkata, there is a Carmelite monastery where even as I write; there are 12 women who live behind the grill. They follow a strict rule of silence and none has seen their faces recently. We know they exist by their regular tolling of the Church bell and their evening hymns from within the alcove of their Church. An Irish doctor had come to India about five years ago. By chance she went to Carmel and has now given up her career to live there as a nun. Make no mistake, they too want to have kids, to raise families and have brilliant careers. But something within them will not allow them to be content with the material world as we see it. The Carmel nuns have a drop-box where one can drop prayer petitions. They have no television, radio or internet. But the Mother-Superior knows if something goes wrong outside. There are too many prayer petitions then.

Baranagar Burning Place, by the Ganges, Calcutta.

The dead come and go and their families often start bickering about property even before they are fully burnt. The initial wails turn into angry accusations. This is life, tells me Shitangshu Kabasi. The man is just above six feet, has jet black hair and an intimidating beard. He can walk on his fingers; can teach you yoga which will surpass many well known masters. He lives in a garage nearby. The garage has been given to him for staying by a local man. Otherwise he would have carried on living in the open by the Ganges. Kabasi is mostly found in the crematorium meditating. His house is nearby though he never goes there. I now know him for over five years. Till date I have not seen him beg, ask for money (which if he gets, he gives to beggars immediately) or gossip. He had quit studying when he was sixteen and from then till date he just lives without encumbering the earth. He teaches free yoga to the local slum children. He smiles a lot and talks little. I ask him, have you ever though of marriage since you are not gay? He replies much in the same way one Christian Brother once told me, when I was an adolescent I told God to make me His, God listened. Period.

Make what you will of monks and true renunciates. As the family is important, they too are important as signs in our blighted lives that hope is still there for mankind.