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Stretching from the Himalayas to the tropical spice gardens of its southern shores, the dry plains of Rajasthan to the jungle territories of its eastern border, India is a truly vast country. The diversity of India’s geography is reflected in the diversity of its many creeds. Ancient faiths like Buddhism and Hinduism rub shoulders with relative newcomers like Islam and Christianity. Then there are the many forms of spiritualism, which also thrive here. Scottish travel writer and historian William Dalrymple has been exploring India for over 25 years. And throughout his travels, he has asked believers to tell him their stories. From a Buddhist monk who renounced his vows to fight with the Indian army to a Jain nun who watched her closest friend ritually starve herself to death, the result is a glimpse into the lived religion of contemporary Indians. In this summary, you’ll learn how caste influences religious practices; why a blind boy took to the road and became a wandering minstrel; and how the Chinese invasion of Tibet shaped the life of a Buddhist monk. Chapter 1 - Jainism is a deeply ascetic creed. Jainism is one of the world’s oldest religions. Dating back to the third century BCE, it emerged in the Ganges basin – a vast valley connecting the Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal. This basin isn’t just the heartland of Jainism, though. It’s also the cradle of Hinduism and Buddhism. These three creeds have an entangled history. In fact, Buddhism and Jainism were partly reactions against Hinduism. Both Jains and Buddhists criticized the willingness of Brahmins, the highest Hindu caste, to slaughter animals for temple sacrifices. They also disliked this caste’s sense of social superiority. All three religions have significant traditions of asceticism, the rejection of worldly attachments, and the practice of self-discipline. For Jains, though, asceticism isn’t just one part of their faith – it’s a foundational commitment. In ancient India, Jain monks were famous for their refusal to wash. An early description of a Jain monk depicts him as being so dirty he looked as if he were wearing a “closely fitting suit of black armor.” Jain monks in contemporary India are allowed to wipe themselves with a wet towel, but bathing in running water and the use of soap are forbidden. Jains are equally strict when it comes to other ascetic practices. While Buddhist monks shave their heads, Jain monks pluck their hair out by the root. Similarly, while the former may ask strangers for food, a Jain monk must place his right arm over his shoulder. If passersby ignore this signal, he must go to bed hungry. The term “Jain” itself comes from Jina, a Sanskrit word meaning “liberator” or “spiritual conqueror.” According to the faith’s scripture, there have been 24 great Jinas – human teachers whose self-denial allowed them to achieve transcendent knowledge of the universe. As Jains see it, asceticism is the only path to salvation. This is why they scoff at Brahmins’ belief that purity rituals can suffice. In an ancient text, a Jain monk who is talking to a group of skeptical Brahmins argues that the only real sacrifice is the sacrifice of one’s own body. “Austerity,” the monk states, is a “sacrificial fire,” and his own life “is the place where the fire is kindled.” As we’ll see in the next chapter, modern Jains continue to live by this ancient monk’s words. Chapter 2 - The author learned about the beliefs of modern Jains from a nun in Karnataka. One of the earliest prominent converts to Jainism was the third-century BCE emperor Chandragupta Maurya. The faith showed him the vanity of his worldly success and the sinfulness of the actions that had brought him that success. In atonement, Maurya fasted himself to death. In the tenth century CE, a Jain general called Prince Bahubali built a 60-foot statue to commemorate Maury in Shravanabelagola, a hillside town in the state of Karnataka. Bahubali also renounced worldly ambition. He retreated into the jungle and spent a year in meditation while standing perfectly still. Eventually, vines grew around his feet and tied him to the spot. Jains consider him the first human to achieve moksha – “spiritual liberation” – and the statue is one of the holiest Jain sites in India. Every year, thousands of Jains embark on a pilgrimage to Shravanabelagola. It was during one of these pilgrimages that the author observed Prasannamati Mataji, a tiny, bald-headed nun in a white sari, climbing up the steps to the statue’s base. Before setting her bare feet on the stone steps, Mataji gently brushed the surface with a feather – a measure to ensure she didn’t harm or kill a single insect. The next day, Mataji explained her faith to the author. All attachments, she began, bring suffering, which is why Jains like her give them up. This principle had led her to leave her family and give away all that she owned. For many years, she had wandered India’s roads, leading a life devoted to ahimsa, or “non-violence” and compassion toward all creatures. Twenty of these years had been spent with another nun called Prayogamati. When Prayogamati became seriously ill, she didn’t struggle against this illness. Instead, she followed Maurya’s example and embraced sallekhana – a voluntary fast ending in death. Unlike suicide, which Jains regard as a sin, sallekhana is not a death of despair. Rather, it is about embracing the passage into the next life. Mataji admired Prayogamati’s decision – her faith, after all, led her to see this as an act of spiritual liberation. But she was also heartbroken to lose her friend and companion. This attachment, she told the author, had been the hardest test to her faith. She still felt the pain; how could she not after sharing her life with Prayogamati for all those years? Chapter 3 - Kerala is one of the most socially oppressive states in India. Stretching along the southwestern tip of the Indian subcontinent, Kerala possesses some of the world’s most fertile soil and luscious vegetation. Often referred to as India’s “spice garden,” the state has been part of the global trade in spices like pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon, and vanilla for millennia. It was these spices that enticed Greek, Roman, Arab, and Jewish traders from the Mediterranean into the Indian Ocean. In the medieval period, Kerala was the terminus of a trade network connecting Venice, the Red Sea, and the Gulf of India. Later on, the Portuguese and British empires vied for control of this seemingly blessed tropical coastline. Kerala’s bucolic landscape and agricultural riches only tell one part of its story, however. The caste system in Kerala was long notorious not just for its rigid hierarchies but for the violence with which they were policed. In the early nineteenth century, a British traveler called Francis Buchanan noted that members of the highest castes – Brahmins and Nayyars – were within their rights to behead a lower-caste man if he dared to step foot on the same road as his social superiors. Buchanan also documented the detailed legal codes that governed every aspect of lower-caste Keralans’ behavior, including how they styled their hair. A century later, Nayyar landlords continued to execute lower-caste tenants for minor infractions such as failing to present sweets as tokens of their submission. Today, this kind of violence is much rarer, but members of the lower castes – known as Dalits – still face caste bigotry from Nayyars and Brahmins. Take it from Hari Das, a Keralan Dalit whom the author interviewed. A part-time laborer, Das digs wells for members of the higher castes. When these employers serve their Dalit worker’s lunch, they use extra-long ladles to pass them their food at a “safe” distance. Typically, they also use plantain leaves to prevent their hands from touching any utensil touched by a Dalit. Once the laborers are done, these utensils are thrown away. Dalits drawing water from the well they themselves dug, meanwhile, is strictly taboo. As we explore how Kerala’s social inequality interacts with religion in the next chapter, we’ll meet Hari Das again. This time, though, he won’t appear in the guise of a well-digger . . . Chapter 4 - Theyyam ceremonies allow Dalits to voice their complaints against upper-caste Keralans. When the author first met Hari Das, he wasn’t dressed as a day-laborer. Nor was he wearing the uniform of a prison warden, his other part-time occupation. Lying flat on a palm mat in a simple hut, Das wore nothing but a white lungi – a type of sarong knotted at the waist. A young boy stooped over him, applying bright makeup to his face and body. His torso was covered in yellow paint while his cheeks were smeared with pungent-smelling orange turmeric. Paisley patterns circled his eyes, with white rice-paste spots and thin red stripes completing the effect. This was the first stage of Das’s transformation into Vishnu, the Hindu god who would possess him during the theyyam ceremony for which he was preparing himself. Theyyams are religious ceremonies based around dance that explore social injustice. Unlike most religious rites in Kerala, they are not controlled by Brahmins. Instead, Dalit priests preside over theyyams, which take place in small shrines and sacred groves deep in the countryside. The term “theyyam” comes from the Sanskrit word daivam, meaning “god.” During the ceremony, Hindu gods incarnate themselves in the bodies of dancers. They choose Dalits like Hari Das rather than their social superiors for a simple reason: these gods, like the oppressed lower castes, are appalled at the injustices committed by the higher castes.