I can't believe so much got achieved in just 10 days

Contributor: Itika Singh

"I've been searching for words that can describe my Gramya Manthan experience. Coming home, my instant reply to anyone who asked. "How was it?", was "Great!". But this one word barely begins to scratch the surface. I thought a bit more and a word that suits better is "transformative". Then comes the part of taking the liberty of more words and actually describing what the experience was and that presents another conundrum- from where do I even start? I think one way of doing it is to say that the experience has three broad aspects to it- rural immersion, personal transformation, and human connection. Even though I have been through it, I still can't believe that mere 10 days were able to achieve all this. But then, I think about all the well-thought-out sessions, the concepts that were introduced, their timing and the amazing team members that were with us, and then it begins to feel like yeah, maybe, all of it really did happen. 

I went in with my focus solely on the rural immersion part. I had read the brief about how the program also focused on introspection but I mostly ignored it. The word empathy attracted me and I signed up for the sake of doing something new. I remember the first circle and how person after person seemed to mention the idea of self-exploration as an objective for the program. I could not relate with them and took heart in the 2 or 3 other people who mentioned exploring rural India as their aim. I don't think I was too present for the opening lecture by Jayesh Bhai because I didn't feel I was at the same level of feels as the rest. When the team asked which place we were coming from, I entertained no answer other than "Delhi". Looking back now, I can see that the love that so overflowed my heart by the last day was already flowing in the spaces that the team was creating for us.

I was glad that the ice-breaking session gave us something to do rather than think about or talk about. I don't even remember the people who were in my team now because back then all of the people were such abstract concepts and not at all the fully fleshed out human bags of love that I know now. Was there a time when I looked at Tusshar and wasn't instantly reminded of "Dulhey ka sehra suhana lagta hai?" Was there a time when I saw Chehak and didn't want to give him a hug? Something that Rahul said during the lunch that followed has stuck with me- he pointed out how all the activities were meant to make us vulnerable and how that is the key to making us be comfortable with each other. At the same time, I asked Ijaz what his favorite activity was and he replied that it was the act of working together and solving the clues that he found the most interesting. And with just these two comments, I understood that there was such brilliance in the group and that I had so much to learn from each and every person there. 

I have remarked this before, and it still seems remarkable to me that in just one day, this big group of people were comfortable with each other to tell some of the darkest parts about themselves and be so vulnerable. Something shifted in the air that night, something shifted in all of our hearts, it seemed, for we all came back different from that session. I remember Shipra who simply wanted to hug each and everyone that night. I didn't think much about the emotional and psychological space that was being created for us back then. 

It is only now that I've come back and noticed traces of awkwardness leeching into my conversations with my fellow participants that I realise how much of a difference that space made. It felt like we were in a circle of trust back then. In a lot of ways, we were detached from our normal lives. It feels like each of us left our own worlds for a while and offered all of our individual selves into creating a new world among those 35 people. That is why, perhaps, when new people were introduced in that world, be it Kishan bhai, Shashank or Khushali, we accepted them with open hearts, because that was the norm of that world. Now that we have come back to our respective lives, we have also come back to the worlds we left behind- the country is teetering on an edge, our conversations are interrupted by phone calls and messages, hanging out no longer means long walks around Safai Vidyalaya or GSS and I no longer go around saying Kemcho to every living soul in sight. I wish I could call myself wise and attribute to myself a foresight that would have seen this coming, but I didn't. However, I do understand how this has happened and I can appreciate that this is but natural. But I fervently hope that we carry some parts of GM within us. 

I am still learning how beautifully the program was designed and how beautifully it was balanced between self-exploration, and rural-immersion. The activities were ingenious and more effective than any lectures could have been. When we were shown that video about development, I was very comfortable on my moral high-ground judging the urban people trying to bring "development" to the tribal people. I had read all about it, after all. However, as soon as I entered Sukhpar and saw the cow dung filled streets, I was instantly cleaning it up in my head, lining the village roads with bricks and creating a "development and beautification" plan. That's as good an example of a reality check as it gets. I reminded myself of our discussions and the "strong invitations" to see the abundance instead of the poverty, and thankfully, soon enough I could do just that. When I got back from our first trip, I filled pages in my journal with the observations I had made. All of a sudden, I was able to appreciate the solutions that the villagers had come up with to their own peculiar problems. In my earlier trip to a village in Uttarakhand, I had observed a Dadi thrashing her knee with leaves that numbs the skin. Just like that, she has access to a large supply of pain relievers that had no side-effects, but back then, my observation was laced with pity for the poor lady who did not have access to modern medicine. I looked at Sukhpar differently-as the village kids took us to see the Rann, my expensive Skechers running shoes were of no help while their cheap rubber slippers were perfectly suited to walking in the mud and then being cleaned in the water. I remarked to Abhishek how as a kid in the city, I had only the concrete-covered, car-crowded compound of my society to roam freely while these kids claimed ownership of all the village, the Rann and the clear, blue sky. My host, 9-year old Pooja could go to the tiny shop in the middle of the night while my mother still worries if I'm out too late. What I saw over and over again was a need to find a point between the village and the city- the city is losing out immensely by forgetting the village, and when the rosy glasses come off, the villages have to be provided with the basic conveniences of the cities. 

I didn't think I would have too much of a problem getting a home for the night, though I was a little unsure. However, as the evening drew to a close, I was haunted by strange ideas- everyone else is going to get houses easily because they are oh, so, charming; everyone else must have had people offer them their houses; am I the only one without a house? I also got very self-conscious in my interactions with the villagers- I was no longer just a mere observer now, I wanted something from them. I felt like I was bringing an agenda to their doorstep. By the time 6.30 PM came around, no one had offered me a house and it hadn't even struck me that I was the one who had to do the asking. I was the last person standing outside Jeevan Kaka's house, on the verge of tears as I begged Abhishek and Ria not to force me to ask someone for my stay. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than not to have to ask for anyone's help- let me sleep at Jeevan Kaka's or even at the temple, I pleaded. I realised then that that was perhaps the first time where I had no other option but to seek help from someone. In Delhi, it is so easy for me to buy whatever I may need- be it food or water or shelter. Not needing help is a virtue in city life. The most I had asked of a stranger in Delhi was a call from their cell phone when I had forgotten mine at home. That too, because there wasn't a PCO in sight, or else I would have chosen to pay for that call rather than ask someone favor. In contrast, I was much more comfortable in giving. Just in Ahmedabad, in fact, I had paid an aunty selling strawberries for fruit that I didn't even want in the first place and didn't think anything of giving one of the boxes away to a pair of siblings in the street. Funnily enough, I think my aversion to receive comes from my mother's spirituality. She is a strong believer in the Karmic theory and the version that has been passed onto me advises you to settle your accounts before you depart. As such, it is okay to be owed but not okay to owe anyone anything. Added to this is my idea that I do not know how to thank people. I have had moments where I have wanted to thank someone from the bottom of my heart but all I could offer was a thank you and perhaps it is this inability that keeps me from receiving help in the first place. Seeing how easily Raji bai said yes to me staying the night at her house made me realise how much of a transactional approach I have taken to even human emotions. Maybe there is no great balance sheet that we need to settle in this lifetime, maybe all that matters is to share in the love, whether by giving or receiving. 

I can't quite believe how 24 years of beliefs and patterns were challenged in those 10 days. By the time we went back again to dear Sukhpar, I was among the loudest pleader for us to stay another night there. When we got that coveted night, I was perhaps the first to ask for a house to stay in, and this time not just for me but also for Anjali. I was immensely proud of myself that day, just as I was surprised. I remember the milestones that lead to this transformation. The first, of course, was me realising that I had this issue, though I in no way saw it as a problem yet. Then, was me slowly realising that perhaps I can receive kindness and let that be. Having lost my slippers, I was walking barefoot to the Conference Hall back in GSS when Chehak simply left his slippers on the road and walked away. I allowed myself to wear those slippers and walk on. Then came Divyangana sharing that she had trouble receiving too, and perhaps that made me realise that it indeed was a problem. But I had no way to address it. Somewhere in between, we watched Nero's Guests- it mingled with my insecurities and dark thoughts so potently that I left the hall in sobs and could barely hold my tears till I made it to bed. The next morning, my check-out in the circle reflected my state of mind- "I am Nero's guest," I said, "but do I fix myself or save Rome from burning?" I think it was the same night that Tejal conducted the wonderful guided meditation. Somewhere between winks of sleep, the sound of someone snoring, the running water and Tejal's musical voice, an answer came to me- let people in, let them help you, let their love save you and take that strength to save the world. I couldn't help giving Tejal a long hug after the session.

After the first surprise night stay in Sukhpar, a sense of excitement set in. I was happily content not knowing where a day would lead us- would it be back to another village or just a session? Day 5 stands out because I think that was the day we were given an opportunity to put in to practice what we'd been talking about so far. As part of Group C I tried to convince my team mates to play Blue and my heart soared every time Group B played blue. As part of the Purple team, I shunned food and was amazed at how easily I quoted ideas of our freedom struggle to argue for the methods that I thought we should employ. It was so interesting to see how the team's forms of organisation- as pointed out by Pawan- were quickly adopted even informally amongst ourselves- people raised hands to voice their opinions, we acknowledged the list of speakers and everyone gathered in rudimentary circles. My biggest take away that day was that though I know how to play the Blue quite naturally, I don't always know how to convince other people to do the same. I was impressed by Bhavesh's simple argument of adding up all possible scores when all I could say in my defense was, "Because we should!". 

I was so happy to be able to go back to Sukhpar and spend some more time with those happy faces. At the same time, I struggled with comparing my experience with those of the others- Was someone else able to learn much more about caste than I was? Did someone else make a stronger connection than I did? Was I missing out in the fun that the others were having? Not just these, but I also struggled with the idea of service. I wondered what the net effect of our engagement would be- would anything we say or do last? Again, I was comforted by Abhishek telling us about an earlier participant who washed all the children's faces and cut their nails and whom Pooja still remembered. However, I still am not sure whether the way we talk about service. It almost felt like we came back and patted ourselves on the back for whatever little we did while the villagers had literally opened their hearts and homes to us and thought nothing of it. This is a thought that I continue to chew over in my head, along with all the other mental nourishment that I have harvested in this trip. 

I think the value that I least explored, personally, was the systems approach, while the values of questioning the transactional form of interactions or questioning the linearity of knowledge has settled in deep. I am also extremely grateful for the opportunity to become a better listener which is a personal goal of mine. I was helped by the "invitation" of observing the echoes and differences in my story and opinions and those of others. The plenty of other activities come to me as fond memories- I loved how easily we were able to do the exercise of everyone walking in tandem and reaching the finish line in the lawn at the same time- how easy it was to trust, how easy it was to lean on one another, how easy it was to communicate. It was then that I felt that we had come together in heads, hearts and minds. I like how we started seeking out each other to have long conversations, just as the team had their own Coffee Conversations. Back in the Manthan, I had a passing thought about the size of groups in which we had our different reflections. I can now see that more than the group, they were meant to make us think and hear those reflections for ourselves. 

Something I realised during GM was that I had come from a place of isolation. And now, all of a sudden, I was being exposed so deeply and widely to human connection. Amazing as it was, it triggered some of my worst insecurities and I was barely keeping it together by the time we came back to Ahmedabad. I had randomly signed up for a conversation with Saloni simply because I felt like I hadn't spoken to her at all. I was amazed by how easily she shared her story with me, giving me the confidence to share mine. Not only that, she was so forthcoming with her insecurities and that comforted me more than I realised. I felt like someone had taken off the lid of my emotional pressure cooker and let off all the steam. I felt so happy, so full and so strong on the final day, thanks to that one conversation. The fears, self-doubts and the dark days that plagued me in 2019 already feel so distant now. I really feel like I left some of my burdens back in Ahmedabad, to be washed away by all the love that was let out on the banks of the Sabarmati. 

I was proud of myself for not feeling despondent in the closing circle about letting go of all the beautiful people that I'd met. For some reason, I was not afraid of losing them. There is a quaint sort of confidence that says that those who have to stick, will stick and those who don't, may just cross paths sometime in the future. However, the next morning, as the rooms emptied one by one, I felt a little bit of the sadness that the rest of the group was feeling. Having come back, I have to remind myself every now and then of that feeling, of that quiet confidence. I am reminding myself to lead with love instead of my insecurities. 

In the first circle, the team's peculiar vocabulary had felt awkward in my ears- I had no bloody idea what was "alive" in me. I hadn't felt the intensity by which Gautami had pronounced that she loved us all. But, by the last circle, all of it felt so natural and the only thing I felt in my heart was love, a love that radiated strength to me. I, for one, know that I forever want to carry the love in my heart that I felt so strongly on the final day. The love that chased away all my doubts and insecurities from my heart by simply being so much that there was no room left for anything else. In my resolution, I said I wanted to carry the village with me and every now and then, I find myself wondering what I'd be doing had I been in Sukhpar. Though I know what I would rather be doing, I haven't yet found the courage to do it. I haven't yet found the courage to eat in a single plate, with no cutlery in front of my family. I haven't found the will to wash up after myself, haven't found the motivation to wake up at 5 in the morning- to be the person that I so naturally became in those 10 days. I feel like GM gave me a clean slate to be myself but now, being back at home, I have to conform to the patterns that I've lived by for so long. So I do not say Namastey to our guard bhaiyya, I often have my guard up when interacting with strangers rather than leading with love. Nevertheless, these are struggles that, at least, I have been made aware of because of GM, and for that I'm grateful. "