Being Hindu is utterly contemporary. The author negotiates with the complexities of Hindu philosophy and thought through the prism of everyday dilemmas, crises and politics, writes MAYURI MUKHERJEE
They say that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. But sometimes the cover holds valuable clues to what lies in the inside pages. The first indication of how Hindol Sengupta’s Being Hindu is not quite your regular fare on Hinduism religion or theological reading is that the cover isn’t saffron or red in colour, it has no pictures of naked sadhus with matted hair or ashened foreheads, and no, there’s not even a trishul on the front.
It almost makes you wonder if Sengupta even hired a professional marketing agent until, of course, you start reading the book and get to the first chapter on “How to write about Hindus” — which includes, among other things, a satirical gem on Hindu (and India) writings, inspired by the Binyavangä Wainaina’s famous cliché-shattering essay, How to write about Africa.
So, how is Sengupta’s book cover designedIJ For one, it’s blue, and it has a partial representation of lord Shiva (and no, you don’t get to see his trident). More importantly in this context, Sengupta’s book is an intensely personal project. Sure, he reaches out to scholars, thinkers and philosophers from different eras and disciplines and there are references galore to serious academic scholarship but his quest to understand what it really means to be Hindu is, at the end of the day, very much anchored in his own personal experiences as a practicing Hindu.
Sengupta opens his book with a prologue on what is possibly his earliest encounter with organised religion: Studying in a catholic school in Calcutta that’s run by Canadian missionaries. His experiences at school (later viewed in context with his experiences at the Ramakrishna Mission, where his parents take him), should resonate with the hundreds and thousands of ‘convent educated’ Hindus in India today. Indeed, his comments on how his teenage self understood the concepts of “sinner” and “believer” as explained at school struck a note with this reviewer — bringing back memories of that school assembly when we sang “Amazing Grace” and I wondered what on earth I had done to be described a wretch that needed to be savedIJ
It is familiar anecdotes such as these, apart from Sengupta’s easy and very readable prose, that makes Being Hindu a gripping page-turner of the sort that one would more easily associate with a whodunit or a murder mystery than a book on an ancient religion. The other big USP of Being Hindu is its utterly contemporary character. Through the book, as Sengupta negotiates with the complexities of Hindu philosophy and thought, he does so through the prism of everyday dilemmas, crises and politics. And so it is that there’s an entire chapter, for example, on Hindus and vegetarianism — which, of course, is of immediate interest given the so-called ‘beef politics’ of the day.
Similarly, the chapter titled “Who is the One True God” makes for an evocative read at a time when terror groups, claiming to bring the reign of ‘one true god’ to mankind, are butchering thousands every day. Of course, there’s nothing new about bloodshed in the name of religion — indeed, whole empires have risen and fallen for the sake of that one true God. Yet, as Sengupta asks, would the world have been a better place if the Hindu point of view — “that there is no one true God… and therefore, no false God… no unbelievers” — was better understood”IJ
Continue through this chapter, and Sengupta takes us into a fascinating discussion on what is possibly the greatest paradox of our times: Rising levels of depression and loneliness even as we live in a world that is increasingly inter-connected and inter-linked. He suggests that those of who struggle to hold a conversation at the dinner table even as we jab away at our smart phones or worry about losing our attention spans to read and relish a book or a long essay to the seemingly unsatiable desire of information and more information may have a thing or two to learn from the Hindu thoughts on mindfulness (which, in itself, is quickly becoming a multi-million dollar industry — somewhat like bottled water).
But perhaps the strongest, most relevant and impactful part of Sengupta’s book is his commentary on science and religion that, actually, comes up in several chapters. From the Indian-origin winner of the prestigious Fields Medal (commonly known as the ‘Maths Nobel’) who acknowledges the immense impact of his Sanskrit learning and the monk at Ramakrishna Mission who recently won the Infosys prize to the understanding the human interface with artificial intelligence and creating a new kind of start-up culture that seeks, nay focuses, on happiness and on the soul, the author traverses a vast field. And in doing so, he offers a much-needed pushback to the idea that Hinduism is an old and outdated belief system, laden with obscure rituals and much mumbo-jumbo.
It is hoped that in his future endeavours the author will look into some of these issues in greater detail and depth, and also perhaps explore the contemporary practice of Hinduism outside India — in countries like Nepal and Sri lanka, Mauritius and Suriname as well as Hindu influences in South East Asia.