A Monk’s Sojourn with a Sage

In 1996, a 25-year old doctoral student at an institute of higher learning in Delhi resigned from his academic program to become a Buddhist monk. He had in the preceding year, befriended several people who were treading alternative life-paths. Through them he had  become acquainted with ideals larger and more enticing than the careerist aspirations he had hitherto held. A combination of factors combined to lead him on the monastic path: an inclination towards a life of austerity and simplicity, a desire to explore spiritual realms and to seek out answers to what constituted the righteous life. However, several of his new-found friends were Gandhian activists, and though he opted to become a Buddhist monk in his personal search for meaning, he had come to be deeply influenced by Gandhian ideas.

So, after being ordained a monk, he did not immediately opt for the cloistered life of a monastery, but decided to work more actively for some time in a social sphere while keeping his monastic vows. (Contrary to popular conception, entry into the life of a Buddhist monk is not the culmination of some period of study, but the commencement of one).

Through a Gandhian activist friend, he learned that Shri Sunderlal Bahuguna’s ashram in Silyara could benefit from the presence and involvement of someone like him; he in turn might benefit from the quiet, meditative environment in the Himalayas. While there, he would have opportunity to teach schoolchildren and look after the ashram library which was in disarray, and otherwise engage meaningfully with the surrounding village populace.

He packed his few belongings in a backpack and set out for Silyara, with his Gandhian friend to lead him there. On the way there, they stopped by at Sunderlal Bahuguna ji’s abode: a tin shack named “Ganga Himalaya Kuti” at the Tehri Dam site, next the bridge entering Tehri town, where Sunderlal ji had been residing and which was the nerve-centre of the protests against the construction of the Tehri Dam.

The Ganga Himalaya Kuti was a simple shack made with tin that Bahugunaji had purchased for a bargain at an auction. But as the epicentre of the anti-dam campaign, it had a significance altogether incommensurate with its modest nondescript appearance. It witnessed a constant flow of visitors: activists, researchers, villagers, NGO functionaries, spies, plain-clothed policemen, even the occasional curious tourist or pilgrim stopping by to get their darshan of the sage they had heard resided there!

When the monk and his friend reached Ganga Himalaya Kuti, Bahugunaji had just started one of his long protest fasts; during these fasts he also maintained a vow of silence, breaking the silence only for a few minutes during the evening prayer meetings to address the assembled audience.  While in silence, Bahugunaji spent the day meditating, planning, conferring with associates (through brief written notes), and churning out articles on environmental issues close to his heart. He would often pen more than one article each day, looking at issues from various fresh angles, exhorting responsibility, and calling for action with an indomitable spirit.

The Kuti had only two rooms in it: A tiny cell-like room occupied by Bahugunaji, and a larger office-cum-hall that also had a stack of mattresses piled in one corner that were laid out at night to turn the space into a dormitory. The monk and his friend had intended to stop at the Kuti only for a couple of hours at most, before proceeding to the ashram at Silyara. But since Bahugunaji had just embarked on an indefinite protest fast, there was frenetic activity at the Kuti as the anti-dam campaign gathered further steam. The monk’s friend was also one of Bahugunaji’s close associates, so he suggested that they stay at the Kuti for a day or two and assist with the work of the anti-dam movement.

The monk noticed a small portable typewriter lying neglected in one corner of the office-cum-hall, and desiring to be of help, offered to type out the articles that Bahugunaji used to otherwise write out in a neat long-hand before sending them to various press/syndication agencies. The monk had spent many childhood days playing with the several typewriters in his editor grandfather’s household, and was an adept typist, so he began to type out the articles that Bahuguna ji churned out each day. Bahugunaji was delighted to have his thoughtful output crisply typed out, and gradually more and more of the office work fell on the shoulders of the young monk who performed all his duties enthusiastically and efficiently.

The days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months. The monk had become an indispensable part of the establishment at the Kuti. Being a monk in robes, he came to be called Bhikshu ji by everyone around. Every afternoon he cooked and ate his single meal of the day, a substantial and rich khichdi. Every night he rolled out a mattress in a corner of the office-turned-dormitory and made it his bed.

There was a lot for the Bhikshu to observe and learn from while at the Kuti. He imbibed the ideals of simplicity and social commitment that he observed being lived out in the lives of Bahugunaji and his associates. Here were people who, transcending the banality of everyday lives, had committed themselves to the wellbeing of the planet and made it a matter of daily personal concern. From them he learnt what activism was: A preoccupation and a proactiveness for concerns of social/public good beyond one’s own private aches and ills. He understood that “if you aren’t an activist, you are an inactivist”!

While Sunderlal Bahuguna ji was the public face of the movement against destructive development, the person holding various strands together behind the scenes was his wife Vimla Bahuguna. She had been groomed at Laxmi Ashram Kausani, under the tutelage of Sarla Behn, and thus was already committed to living by Gandhian ideals of simplicity and social activism when she got married to Sunderlal ji. Together, they constituted a formidable force, furthering the legacy of Gandhi and Vinoba, not merely by advocacy, but by embodying those ideals in the way they lived their lives on a daily basis.

Eventually the Bhikshu stayed at the Kuti for a whole year, and indeed never went to the Silyara Ashram at all. After a year there, he felt called to pursue his scriptural studies in greater earnest and so moved to Sarnath, Varanasi, for a few years. Many years later he even took leave of his monastic life, and returned to lay life, marrying and building a family of his own. Yet he continued to tread an alternative life path. He settled down in a village in Karnataka and built a mud house for his family. He continued to live a life of simplicity and social commitment. And the many lessons he had imbibed during his sojourn with the sage in Tehri never left him.

I know all this because I was that Bhikshu.

Vinish Gupta

Sirsi, Karnataka

February, 2022

gupta.vinish@gmail.com