Dr Roopali’s hilarious meditation mishaps on DifferentTruths.com reveal how modern distractions melt into Himalayan calm amid jalebis and Shiva’s gaze.

Have you ever tried meditating? I did.
It will remove your anxiety and calm you
as you drill deeper into yourself,
alienating all worldly concerns. They said.
Sit in the lotus pose.
Close your eyes.
Keep your spine straight and breathe.
 
Years of sitting around like a colonial memsahib
on chairs, sofas and toilet seats
made it impossible to reclaim my Indianness!
Sitting on a reed mat or squatting
was something from a long-forgotten, “shameful”, native past.
Perhaps Grandfather did.
No, no, no!
Great-grandfather lived in the village —
squatting in fields, lying on chatais,
Counting beads, sitting cross-legged like the Buddha!
 
So here I was,
sitting on a cushioned chair in a high-rise building
on the 26th floor,
trying to emulate sages in caves
up, up in the far reaches of the Himalayas.
Must take a selfie.
Those gym ladies took envy selfies
and pasted them — oops — posted them
on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn
and tagged reluctant obese receivers like me.
 
Here I was with my eyes closed
so that my inner eye would open.
My shallow breath is now to be converted to long ones.
I, who had been breathless looking at unattainable objects of desire,
found it difficult.
Life is all about the breath.
It’s the only indicator you are alive.
The moment you stop breathing
You have been deleted from the voters’ list.
They won’t give your quarrelling next of kin your rations, either.
Your pension will be stopped
And your folks will wish they had kept you on a ventilator
for a few months more,
and not announced your passing
till the EMIs on the house loan were clear.
 
So, the deep breath.
Long ones, then short ones
and extra short ones
and long, long ones.
Till you get breathless
and your rib cage is ready to push out
the passive smoke-filled lungs.
I forgot to mention the beginning.
I tried focusing on Lord Shiva.
That snake around his neck kept staring right back at me
and even winked.
I changed from a diya to a candle.
The flame wouldn’t stop its snake-like sway.
Then the song Jalebi Bai began to sway me.
That did it.
 
I was transported on an eagle back to Meerut,
and it’s Guptaji’s hot jalebis
and Hariya’s famous sweet artery-choking malai lassi.
I almost stopped breathing.
I pulled myself back to the diya.
This time, it didn’t dance too much.
The sugar spike from the jalebi and lassi wasn’t working either.
Shiva’s snake still peered at me.
Only this time, he was smiling benignly.
Then they came hopping, tripping, squealing —
those half-dressed pole dancers.
They slithered up the pole and down,
quite snake-like.
 
Now, I understood what Maneka and Urvashi were up to.
I tried switching to Shiva again.
He looked bluer than before.
His rippling thigh muscles began to distract me.
The snake seemed to be half asleep.
That raisin-filled Christmas plum cake, dripping rum,
made by a friend in jolly old Bangalore,
now arrived on a very English porcelain plate.
 
The heady memories and the wispy fragrance
The rum-soaked raisins made me salivate.
I gulped and whispered
Om Namoh Shivaya.
Om Namoh, Om Namoh Shivaya, Shivaya.
Namoh, Namoh.
 
This time, his thighs didn’t ripple
And the snake was fast asleep.
Everything was still.
I heard the sound of water flowing.
I looked at Neelkanth
as the river Ganga flowed right out of his matted hair
and washed over me.
 
A calm began to take hold of me
as all thoughts receded,
and I could hear my breath loud and clear.
My mind was dead. No thoughts.
A bright light behind my eyes
lit up a peace that passeth understanding
inside of me.

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Dr. Roopali Sircar Gaur

Dr. Roopali Sircar Gaur is a poet, travel writer, and social justice activist. A former professor of English Literature at Delhi University, and a creative writing professor at IGNOU, she is a widely published academic and creative writer. Her book Twice Colonised: Women in African Literature, is a seminal text on women’s socio-political empowerment. In 2020-21, she co-edited two poetry anthologies – In All the Spaces: Diverse Voices in Global Women’s Poetry, and Earth Fire Water Wind.