Introduction

India is a land of incredible diversity - from the snow-capped Himalayas in the north to the lush tropical shores of the south, from the arid deserts of Rajasthan to the dense jungles of the east. This geographic variety is matched by an equally diverse tapestry of religious and spiritual traditions that have flourished in India for millennia.

In "Nine Lives," renowned travel writer and historian William Dalrymple takes readers on a fascinating journey through the spiritual landscape of contemporary India. Drawing on over 25 years of exploration in the subcontinent, Dalrymple brings to life the stories of nine remarkable individuals, each following a different religious or spiritual path.

Through intimate portraits of a Jain nun, a Buddhist monk, a Dalit ritual dancer, a Baul mystic singer, and others, Dalrymple offers a nuanced look at how ancient faiths and practices continue to thrive and evolve in modern India. He explores how caste, politics, and social change intersect with religious devotion in the lives of ordinary Indians. With empathy and insight, Dalrymple reveals the human struggles, doubts, and moments of transcendence experienced by his subjects as they navigate between tradition and modernity.

"Nine Lives" is not an academic study of Indian religions, but rather an intimate, ground-level view of lived spirituality in all its complexity. Through these nine stories, Dalrymple illuminates the astonishing diversity and vitality of India's sacred traditions, while also grappling with the paradoxes and challenges they face in a rapidly changing world.

The Nun's Tale: Prasannamati Mataji

Jainism: An Ancient Faith of Extreme Asceticism

Jainism is one of the oldest religions in the world, dating back to at least the 3rd century BCE in the Ganges basin of northern India. Along with Buddhism, Jainism emerged partly as a reaction against certain aspects of Hinduism, particularly the animal sacrifices conducted by Brahmin priests and the rigid caste hierarchies.

While asceticism plays a role in many Indian religions, for Jains it is absolutely central to their faith and practice. From its earliest days, Jainism has been known for the extreme austerities practiced by its monks and nuns. Ancient texts describe Jain ascetics as being so dirty from refusing to bathe that they appeared to be wearing black armor. Even today, Jain monks are forbidden from bathing in running water or using soap, though they may wipe themselves with a damp cloth.

Other ascetic practices include plucking out their hair by the roots rather than shaving, and strict rules around begging for food - a monk must stand with his right arm over his shoulder, and if no one offers food he must go hungry. The very name "Jain" comes from the Sanskrit word "Jina," meaning liberator or spiritual conqueror. Jain scripture teaches of 24 great Jinas who achieved transcendent knowledge through extreme self-denial.

For Jains, asceticism is seen as the only true path to spiritual liberation. They reject the idea that ritual purity alone can lead to salvation. As one ancient Jain text states, the only real sacrifice is the sacrifice of one's own body - austerity itself is the "sacrificial fire" in which the ascetic's life is offered.

The Nun's Journey

To learn about how these ancient Jain principles are lived out today, Dalrymple traveled to the pilgrimage site of Shravanabelagola in Karnataka. There he encountered Prasannamati Mataji, a tiny Jain nun in a white sari, her head completely shaved.

Before climbing the stone steps to the massive statue of Prince Bahubali, Mataji gently swept each step with a feather to avoid harming any insects. This illustrated the core Jain principle of ahimsa or non-violence toward all living creatures.

In conversation with Dalrymple, Mataji explained her spiritual journey. Like all Jains, she believes that attachments are the root of suffering, so she had given up her family and possessions to become a wandering nun. For decades she had traveled India's roads, devoting herself to a life of non-violence and compassion.

For 20 years, Mataji had a close companion in another nun named Prayogamati. When Prayogamati became gravely ill, she chose to follow the ancient Jain practice of sallekhana - a ritualized fast unto death. Unlike suicide, which Jains consider sinful, sallekhana is seen as a spiritually purifying embrace of the transition to the next life.

While Mataji admired her friend's spiritual resolve, she was also deeply pained by the loss. She admitted to Dalrymple that this attachment to her companion had been the greatest test of her faith. Even years later, she still felt the ache of separation. This poignant detail reveals the very human struggles that persist even for those who have renounced worldly attachments.

Through Mataji's story, we see how the austere principles of ancient Jainism continue to be practiced with great devotion in modern India. At the same time, we glimpse the internal conflicts faced by individuals striving to live up to such a demanding spiritual ideal.

The Dancer of Kannur: Hari Das

Kerala's Legacy of Social Oppression

Kerala, the lush tropical state on India's southwestern coast, has long been renowned for its natural beauty and agricultural bounty. For millennia, Kerala's spices like pepper, nutmeg, and cinnamon drew traders from across the ancient world, making it a key hub in global trade networks.

But beneath this idyllic surface lies a darker legacy of extreme social stratification and oppression. Historically, Kerala had one of the most rigid and violently enforced caste systems in India. In the early 19th century, British travelers recorded that upper caste Brahmins and Nayars could legally behead lower caste individuals merely for walking on the same road. Detailed codes governed every aspect of lower caste behavior, down to how they could style their hair.

Even a century later, Nayar landlords were known to execute lower caste tenants for minor infractions. While such extreme violence is rare today, caste discrimination persists in more subtle forms. Dalrymple introduces us to Hari Das, a Dalit (formerly called "untouchable") well-digger who experiences ongoing prejudice from his upper caste employers. When served food, it is passed to him with extra-long ladles to avoid "contamination." Utensils touched by Dalits are thrown away, and they are forbidden from drawing water from wells they themselves have dug.

This stark picture of Kerala's social divisions sets the stage for understanding the unique religious practices that have emerged as a form of resistance and self-expression among the oppressed.

Theyyam: Ritual Dance as Social Protest

When Dalrymple first encounters Hari Das, he is not in his usual role as a laborer, but undergoing an extraordinary transformation. Lying on a palm mat, Das is having intricate designs painted on his face and body in vivid yellows, oranges, and reds. This is the first stage in his metamorphosis into the god Vishnu for an upcoming theyyam ceremony.

Theyyam is a ritual dance-drama unique to northern Kerala that allows lower caste individuals to temporarily embody Hindu deities. Unlike most Hindu ceremonies controlled by Brahmin priests, theyyams are presided over by Dalit priests and performers. They typically enact stories of lower caste individuals who suffer unjust deaths at the hands of upper castes, only to be deified and return as incarnations of major Hindu gods.

During the ceremony, the gods are believed to literally possess the Dalit dancers. In this elevated state, the dancers can directly voice complaints against upper caste oppression. The gods choose to incarnate in Dalits precisely because they share their anger at social injustice.

Theyyam serves multiple functions for Kerala's Dalit communities. It allows them to create their own religious traditions and pantheon of deified heroes. It provides a sanctioned outlet for expressing grievances against the dominant castes. Perhaps most importantly, it offers a powerful source of solidarity, self-respect, and cultural pride.

Through the story of Hari Das, we see how an ancient ritual practice has been adapted to address ongoing social tensions. Theyyam demonstrates the creative ways in which marginalized groups can use spiritual practices as tools for preserving identity and advocating for justice.

The Monk's Tale: Tashi Passang

A Young Man's Path to Monastic Life

Tashi Passang was born in 1936 to a Tibetan family of yak herders. Like many Tibetans, they lived in houses during the harsh winters and spent summers in mountain pastures tending their herds. At 12, Passang joined his brothers in the family trade for the first time, assuming he too would become a yak farmer.

This plan was disrupted by Passang's great uncle, a Buddhist monk. Noting the boy's intelligence and literacy, he urged Passang to enter a monastery instead. While farming might bring worldly wealth, the uncle argued, only spiritual cultivation could provide lasting value. Moved by this argument, young Passang agreed to become a monk.

In the monastery, Passang learned the core Buddhist teaching that desire, greed, pride, and attachment are the roots of suffering. Moreover, the objects of worldly ambition are ultimately illusory - we can take nothing with us when we die, not even our physical bodies. To internalize these teachings, Passang engaged in intensive meditation, scripture memorization, and periods of isolation.

After three years of instruction, Passang was sent on a four-month solitary retreat in a mountain cave. At first, the isolation was miserable and frightening. But after two weeks, Passang experienced a profound shift. He felt his mind clear and his attachments fall away. For the first time, he grasped the emptiness of worldly pleasures and ambitions. This taste of inner peace convinced Passang to devote himself fully to the contemplative life.

From Monk to Soldier

Passang's spiritual aspirations were soon to be severely tested by political upheaval. In 1950, Communist China reasserted control over Tibet, which had enjoyed de facto independence since 1912. At first, the Chinese presence seemed distant to Passang. But rumors began to spread of the new regime's hostility toward Buddhism, including massacres at some monasteries.

Slowly, talk of armed resistance began to circulate even in Passang's monastery. This presented monks like him with an agonizing dilemma. Buddhism teaches absolute non-violence, considering the taking of any life a grave sin. Yet if they did not fight, it seemed their entire way of life and spiritual tradition might be destroyed.

After much soul-searching, Passang made the difficult decision to renounce his monastic vows and join the armed Tibetan resistance. While Buddhist texts do allow violence in extreme circumstances to prevent greater harm, this is still considered a form of spiritual sacrifice. The individual who commits violence, even for a righteous cause, takes on negative karma.

The poorly equipped Tibetan rebels were quickly overwhelmed by China's modern army. Passang fled to India, joining the community of Tibetan exiles in Dharamsala under the Dalai Lama. In 1962, tensions between India and China created an opportunity. India recruited Tibetan refugees like Passang into a special mountain warfare unit, with the promise that they would help liberate Tibet.

This promise went unfulfilled. Instead, in 1971 Passang's unit was deployed to East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) to support the local independence movement against Pakistan. For Passang, this was spiritually devastating. He had killed men who posed no threat to Buddhism or Tibet. In his heart, he knew he had committed a terrible sin without justification.

Unable to leave the Indian army until 1986, Passang returned to Dharamsala after his discharge. He spent the rest of his life in prayer and meditation, seeking to atone for the violence he had committed. His poignant story illustrates the painful dilemmas faced by individuals when political forces collide with spiritual convictions.

The Maker of Idols: Srikanda Stpathy

In southern India, Dalrymple encounters Srikanda Stpathy, a master sculptor from a long line of idol makers. For over 700 years, Srikanda's family has crafted exquisite bronze statues of Hindu deities using ancient techniques passed down through generations.

Srikanda's workshop continues age-old traditions, with apprentices learning to shape wax models and create intricate molds before the molten bronze is poured. Every step of the process is steeped in ritual and symbolism. The sculptors must maintain ritual purity, and the statues are brought to life through elaborate consecration ceremonies.

Yet Srikanda also faces uniquely modern challenges. There is growing demand for mass-produced idols made with cheaper materials and methods. Additionally, his sons show little interest in continuing the family legacy, preferring to pursue more lucrative careers in engineering or business.

Through Srikanda's story, we see how an ancient artistic and spiritual tradition struggles to maintain relevance and economic viability in a rapidly modernizing India. It raises questions about the preservation of cultural heritage and the changing nature of religious practice in contemporary society.

The Singer of Epics: Mohan Bhopa

In the deserts of Rajasthan, Dalrymple meets Mohan Bhopa, one of the last hereditary singers of the Pabuji epic. This 4,000-line poem tells the story of a medieval Rajput hero-god and is traditionally performed over five consecutive nights.

Mohan and his wife are illiterate, yet they have memorized this vast epic and perform it accompanied by a stringed instrument and a painted scroll depicting scenes from the story. The epic serves not just as entertainment, but as a repository of cultural values, historical memory, and spiritual teachings for the local community.

However, this ancient tradition is under threat. Younger generations are losing interest in the epic, preferring modern forms of entertainment. The hereditary system of passing down the epic is breaking down as Mohan's children pursue other careers.

Mohan's tale highlights the challenges facing India's oral traditions and folk arts in the face of modernization and changing social structures. It prompts reflection on how ancient wisdom and cultural identity can be preserved in a rapidly changing world.

The Red Fairy: Lal Peri

In the holy city of Sehwan in Pakistan's Sindh province, Dalrymple encounters Lal Peri, a transgender Sufi devotee. Lal Peri belongs to a community of hijras (a recognized third gender in South Asian cultures) who serve as guardians and caretakers at the shrine of the great Sufi saint Lal Shahbaz Qalandar.

Lal Peri's life story is one of persecution, resilience, and ultimately finding acceptance and purpose through devotion to the saint. Born male but identifying as female from childhood, Lal Peri faced rejection from family and society before finding a home in Sehwan's hijra community.

The shrine of Lal Shahbaz Qalandar is known for its atmosphere of tolerance and inclusion, where people of all faiths and social backgrounds are welcome. This stands in stark contrast to the growing religious conservatism and sectarian tensions in much of Pakistan.

Through Lal Peri's story, Dalrymple explores themes of gender identity, social marginalization, and the inclusive aspects of Sufi spirituality. It offers a glimpse into a more tolerant face of Islam that is often overlooked in contemporary discourse.

The Daughters of Yellamma: Rani bai

In the southern state of Karnataka, Dalrymple meets Rani bai, a devadasi or temple prostitute dedicated to the goddess Yellamma. The devadasi system, officially outlawed but still practiced in some areas, involves young girls being "married" to the deity and then serving as sex workers.

Rani bai's story reveals the complex interplay of religious tradition, poverty, and exploitation. Dedicated to the goddess as a child due to family poverty, Rani bai initially embraced her role with religious fervor. Over time, however, she became disillusioned with the exploitation inherent in the system.

Now middle-aged, Rani bai works to prevent other girls from entering the devadasi system while still maintaining her spiritual connection to Yellamma. Her tale raises difficult questions about the line between sacred tradition and social injustice, and how individuals navigate this tension.

The Song of the Blind Minstrel: Kanai Das Baul

In West Bengal, Dalrymple encounters Kanai Das Baul, a blind wandering minstrel belonging to the Baul tradition. The Bauls are mystic singers whose ecstatic songs blend elements of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sufi Islam into a unique spiritual philosophy.

Kanai's life story is one of tragedy transformed through music and spirituality. Blinded as an infant and orphaned as a teen, he found purpose and community by joining the Bauls. Their teachings that God is found within the human heart rather than in temples or scriptures resonated deeply with Kanai.

Now Kanai travels from village to village, singing songs that mock religious orthodoxy, praise universal brotherhood, and guide listeners toward inner divinity. His tale illustrates how marginalized individuals can find empowerment and transcendence through alternative spiritual paths.

The Lady Twilight: Manisha Ma Bhairavi

In the holy city of Tarapith, Dalrymple meets Manisha Ma Bhairavi, a tantric adept devoted to the fierce goddess Tara. Tantra is an esoteric spiritual tradition that embraces practices often considered taboo, believing that liberation can be found by transmuting rather than renouncing worldly desires.

Manisha Ma's path to becoming a tantric practitioner was unconventional. Widowed young, she defied social norms by refusing to live a life of austere widowhood. Instead, she was drawn to Tarapith's cremation grounds, where she began practicing intense spiritual disciplines under the guidance of a tantric guru.

Now a respected teacher herself, Manisha Ma uses her position to challenge patriarchal norms and empower other women. Her story offers insight into how some Indian women have used heterodox spiritual traditions as a means of asserting independence and agency in a male-dominated society.

Conclusion: The Vitality and Diversity of Indian Spirituality

As we conclude our journey through the spiritual landscape of modern India, several key themes emerge:

  1. Continuity and Change: Throughout the book, we see how ancient traditions continue to thrive in contemporary India, often adapting to address modern social and economic realities. The theyyam rituals of Kerala, for instance, have become a means of asserting Dalit identity and protesting caste oppression.

  2. Diversity and Syncretism: India's spiritual tapestry is incredibly diverse, encompassing not only major world religions but also countless local and regional traditions. Moreover, there is often significant blending between different faiths, as seen in the syncretic practices of the Baul singers.

  3. Individual Agency: While religious traditions shape people's lives, individuals also actively shape their spiritual paths. We see this in the choices made by figures like Tashi Passang, the monk who became a soldier, or Rani bai, the devadasi working to reform the system she was born into.

  4. Marginalization and Empowerment: Many of the stories highlight how spiritual practices can provide a sense of purpose and community for marginalized individuals, whether it's Lal Peri finding acceptance as a transgender Sufi devotee or Kanai Das finding his voice as a blind Baul singer.

  5. Tension Between Tradition and Modernity: Nearly all the subjects grapple with the challenges posed by modernization, from the idol-maker Srikanda Stpathy facing competition from mass-produced statues to the epic singer Mohan Bhopa seeing younger generations lose interest in his art.

  6. The Human Face of Faith: Above all, Dalrymple's portraits reveal the deeply personal nature of spiritual belief and practice. Behind every tradition and ritual are individuals with their own struggles, doubts, and moments of transcendence.

"Nine Lives" paints a vivid picture of the incredible vitality and diversity of spiritual life in modern India. It shows how ancient traditions continue to evolve and adapt, providing meaning and identity for millions in a rapidly changing world. At the same time, it doesn't shy away from the contradictions and challenges faced by these traditions in contemporary society.

The book's approach - focusing on individual stories rather than abstract theology - allows readers to connect with the human experiences behind various spiritual paths. This humanizing perspective fosters greater understanding and empathy across cultural and religious divides.

Ultimately, "Nine Lives" leaves us with a deeper appreciation for the complexity of India's spiritual landscape. It challenges simplistic notions about religion in the modern world, showing how faith remains a dynamic and relevant force in people's lives. As India continues to modernize and globalize, the stories in this book remind us of the enduring power of spiritual traditions to shape individual lives and collective identities.

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