Neel's Brevity

Photo by David DINTSH on Unsplash

12th October, 1992

Neel finally got the appointment. 9 am for fifteen minutes tomorrow. It had taken him a week of waiting. And 15 minutes may be too short a time. But he was okay with it. He knew the art of brevity. That was what he was presenting to his guru anyway.

The ashram* was the most serene at dusk. A collective exhaling of the inmates from the day’s stringent and defined routine. Study, writing, yoga, volunteering, group discussions, and the best part of it all, the 90 minute lecture by the guru. All of these were done by the ashram-ites with intensity and devotion. Everyday. No Sundays or any off days. Work is play, the guru said. The Sun’s goodbyes always looked prettier, thought Neel. The snake-shaped pond coppered in its rays. And the birds came back to roost.

Neel walked towards the communal kitchen. Today, it had dished out a bland version of Dal Khitchdee; mashed rice and lentils. Neel added a bit of salt and walked over to the corner bench closer to the entrance. He didn’t want to speak to anyone this evening. A quick meal followed by a final review of his presentation tomorrow before getting the much needed sleep. He needed to be fresh and alert for his tete-a-tete with the Swami*.

“Why are you hiding out here?” Sean’s voice shook up Neel’s thought train. He turned around. Sean was all smiles and sat facing Neel.

“Hey Sean. Howya goin?”

“Not bad mate. Why are you cornered up? Is everything alright?”

He’s baiting, thought Neel. Neel knew Sean knew about the appointment tomorrow. He worked as an admin, not far from the Swami’s study.

“All good. Just a bit tired. Will be sleeping early.” Neel smiled weakly.

“Ah yes! You are meeting guru-ji tomorrow right?”

Neel looked right into Sean’s eyes and nodded.

“See ya tomorrow Sean. Good night.”, Neel got up and headed towards the sink.

The rumor mills must be working overtime. Neel pondered about this tendency. People in these conditions starve for some spice, some excitement, everyday. Lives focused on inner work, contemplation, mediation, scriptural study, are essentially starved of sensations. Neel sighed as he collected his thoughts back to the project he’d prepared for the guru’s review. He went through each point. He spoke them out aloud, in a low muffled voice. He looked at the typed sheet he would be handing out to the master. All the important words were in bold and some smaller lines had been highlighted. Content, he switched off the lights, 10 pm.

Neel was already sitting in the Swami’s study at 8:45 am. He felt alert, and up to the task. Facing the guru was always daunting. Speaking to him even more. Not that the guru was judgmental. He was known to listen without ever interrupting. But his solutions to student questions were like a magician explaining a trick. The questioner often felt stupid for asking it in the first place. But this was not a question answer session. This was a proposal.

At 8:55 the guru walked in. Neel immediately stood up and prostrated before the Swami, as was the custom. At 6 feet, 4 inches, a flowing white beard, the swami looked every inch the guru that his students looked up to for spiritual guidance. There was whiteness everywhere. His hair, the traditional attire, all glowed in white. And to add to the aura, his skin had a dark brown shine. The overall contrast felt as if he was emanating light. His fragrance filled up the room. Must be some exotic Ayurvedic* oils, Neel thought. The overall effect on Neel was calming. Neel’s tense frame relaxed, his pulse slowed down. But only a little.

In the deep baritone voice, the guru asked,

”Neela, sukham alle*?” They both came from Kerala and spoke their mother tongue, Malayalam, fluently. Neel had sensed some students’ envy when he and the guru sometimes conversed in their mother tongue. They even came from the same district. Just four decades apart.

For a few minutes they conversed in Malayalam. Then the guru paused. The silence was the sign. It is time, Neel thought.

“In your lectures, guru-ji*, you have always emphasized on speaking clearly. In our group discussions too you tell us to first frame our thoughts carefully and not not meander while speaking. Your writing is a reflection of that. I love that your sentences are short. And this is what I propose too. Brevity. I want to start a workshop in the Ashram. Twice a week. For an hour. I want us to learn this skill: to say more with less. Just like how you teach us the terse Upanishadic mantras which contain in them oceans of meaning.”

Neel paused. The guru nodded. He continued.

I am also inspired by George Orwell.”, Neel knew he needn’t introduce the authors to the guru.

“Particularly Orwell’s essay - Politics and the English Language. He has listed down several common errors or lazy writing which inhibits the construction of good prose.”

Neel was beginning to sweat a little.

“He listed four of them - dying metaphors, operators or verbal false limbs, pretentious diction, and meaningless words. He also goes on to show other kinds of writing oversights. I would like to go over this essay in this workshop. I think it would be a great toolbox we can use in our own writing. The first two weeks will be on this essay. We understand, absorb the skills Orwell points out to. We can use examples that he’s used initially. Then move on to other writings and use these tools and build on a few more. Finally, we can examine each other’s works as well”

“Yes. This is a good idea, Neel.” The guru cut in. He paused for a few seconds while Neel waited. “I do not recollect reading this particular essay of Orwell’s. Why don’t you share a complete written proposal? Include your week on week course structure. Let me have a look at it and let you know by Sunday. Okay Neel?”

“I have already prepared guruji.” Neel’s eyes were lit up. He quickly handed over his proposal to the guru.

“Oh! So you have really thought this through, haven’t you?” The guru smiled.

“Yes, guruji. I believe this skill will be beneficial to all of us.”

“Hmmm. It looks like it at the outset. Alright, I have another meeting now Neel. Leave this with me.”

And that was it. Neel stood up. Prostrated at the guru’s feet again and exited the guru’s bungalow. Not before he spotted Sean smiling at him from his side office.

14th September 2028

The ashram looked the same. Neel glanced over as he parked his car.

He walked down the parking lot towards the ashram hostel.

No, not quite the same. The parking lot to start with. That wasn’t there. And the hostel, Sreenivas, looks like a five star hotel now. A young man dressed in an ochre shirt and trousers greeted him. So, the uniforms changed too. The traditional attire, gone. Neel felt like he’d entered a resort. The guru’s ayurvedic perfume was now everywhere. And he was gone. Neel learned that last month. He had been long gone. Five years. Stroke.

He checked in to the hostel and they were kind enough to allot him the same room he had stayed in for five years as a student. But nothing remained of the old. The room had the same design - floor beds, floor desks; minimalist. But now it looked hollow. Something is missing, thought Neel. It felt like a spiritual resort - fake smiles and greetings of ‘Hari Om’. Or maybe it was just a case of him not belonging, thought Neel.

He hadn’t told anyone he was an alumni. He didn’t come across any of the older students or maybe he didn’t recognize them. And so he joined the guests on the tour of the Ashram. The community kitchen, the lecture halls, the water treatment plants, the fields and sports arenas, it just went on and on for two hours. By the end of it, it was lunch time. Neel was exhausted. From a tiny hamlet-like space to this corporate monstrosity, the ashram had come far. Or had it?

Back then this ashram was a unique place; dedicated towards the inner work of a select few. All inmates used to be interviewed by the Swami before admitting them here. But even during Neel’s time it had begun to change. The hostels got slightly more comfy, washing machines arrived, a TV for weekly movies and cricket matches, and the food started to taste a bit better. But this? Neel saw the concealed luxury and felt aghast. Branded pens and tablets everywhere, but only in silent mode. AI assistants in every room to monitor your vitals, set the temperature, help perfect your chanting or even pull up the guru’s works and commentary, for a fee of course.

After a sumptuous, nutritionally balanced lunch, as the placard on the food bench went on about, Neel headed back to his room. The rooms were all centrally temperature controlled. But they still hadn’t removed the old fan hook. He had noticed it when he visited the ashram last month for a day tour. He smiled as he sat down on the bed.

His work, a bastard, adopted and alive. He knew now. He was ready now. The decades of nomadic dust had finally settled where it began. He had practiced the hangman’s knot.

Photo by Matthew Inamdar on Unsplash

The ashram in 2028, had only one offline class. The rest were all recorded classes of the guru. No one else after him was deemed worthy to succeed. One class however was conducted by the Ashram senior students. It was attended by not just the inmates but people from the surrounding villages and even from the neighboring cities. Schools teachers, working professionals, students, all thronged this workshop.

It was titled - Brevity - the art of saying more with less. Designed by Swami Jay Swaroop. The guru.

*Ashram - Indian monastery

Swami - Can be used interchangeably with Guru (though guru is more generic)

Ayurvedic - Indian traditional system of medicine

Sukham alle - Are you doing well?

Ji - suffixed to names/title to indicate respect, especially toward an elder