A Question Guru Once Posited And An Answer He Offered
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When I visited the gurukula on the outskirts of Bengaluru years ago, for the first time I bare witness to the remnants of the much-celebrated "bohemian" spirit of the 80s. Some of the gurukula's long-standing associates had dropped down from the city to attend the guru puja. Back then, Guru was ailing, and the autumnal weather didn’t seem to augur well for him. Guru had just returned from an hours-long exhaustive trudge to the foothill, where he paid a visit to the residences of the villagers. I explored the landscapes within the gurukula as I waited for him. When I finally entered his room, he was lying on the floor, as far as I remember. One of his close disciples gave an introduction about me, highlighting the fact that I was pursuing a bachelor's degree in economics.
Guru nodded with a smile. "Why are you studying economics?" He asked me. I didn’t have an answer, and I stayed quiet.
This was in 2015. More than a decade has passed, and I still don't have an answer. But one thing I know, economics forms an integral aspect of the enquiry pursued under the aegis of the philosophical institution — this, of course, is corroborated by the futuristic and overarching books written by Nataraja Guru himself.
Anyway, by dusk, the inmates were preparing porridge, while a few of us, away from the clamour of the utensils, huddled up at the entrance of a cabin-like hut ridden with creepers. I remember one of the gurukula associates in particular — for he was way too expressive and he was strumming his guitar to tunes from the 80s and 90s. It was at this gathering — rather, a jamming session — that I first heard the "dialectics", which was brought up when the discussion veered off track from songs to metaphysics. At that time, I didn’t even know its meaning, and had confused it with "dialects".
Then it was time for the daily evening session. After reciting a few prayers, Guru reclined to a chair, with his walking stick by his side, at the centre of the prayer hall, as the disciples and visitors formed an arc on the floor. This session was rather interactive. Guru was clearing doubts pertaining to philosophy. A question posited by a lady, who was sitting right in front of me, was rather blunt. In fact, I had once posited this exact same question to one of Guru's disciples.
"Guru, what is the truth?" The lady asked.
As always, Guru smiled. Instead of approaching this question, which baffled many a curious minds over generations, from a philosophical perspective, Guru simply pointed to the surroundings with a hand gesture. "This is all the truth," he said.
That discussion ended there. But the takeaway lingered for long — at least for me.
"Truth is that there is a consciousness." This was the answer that I received when I asked this same question to the disciple prior to the philosophy session.
But Guru's words, on the surface, seemed quite contradictory to this statement — for long, we have associated "consciousness" with internal spaces, and Guru's acknowledgement of the external world as well seemingly transcended logic.
Over a decade later, I think I have a bare understanding of what Guru meant — even though it was barely a passing remark — and why it is not essentially at variance with the "consciousness discourse".