Magic in the desert and New Year

I recently had a profound experience at the Learning Societies UnConference, a collaborative event initiated by Udaipur-based Shikshantar group and Swaraj University, and created by around 600 participants.

As some of you might know, Shikshantar and Swaraj are into alternative education but people, young and old, with diverse interests joined in to celebrate life at the unconference. So here’s what happened in seven days that will have a great resonance in my life ahead.

I arrived at Sardarshahr, the venue in north Rajasthan the evening before the unconference was to start. A friend was to arrive the next day and there were not many people around except a lot of young volunteers and organisers.

After parking my luggage I was sitting outside one of the buildings on the campus killing time with my mobile when two girls who were passing by stopped.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nothing”

“Why don’t you come with us, we are going to hang out and have dinner outside”.

I was wondering if this was for real. By the time we reached the dhaba, there were 20 of us, mostly strangers deciding to share food. And this I realised later is the spirit of unconference: “Nobody is an outsider. Everyone is welcome.”

The wall painting

Over the next six days, more people joined in, all welcomed with big warm hugs, laughter, dance and songs. The hugs especially were in abundance all through the event, the daily target being 20 hugs of 20 seconds each. And it was a safe place for everyone.

The unconference, as can be seen from its name, has no pre-planned agenda. Chaos is the theme to let creative energies emerge.

So every day after breakfast, we would gather in the open space, do a few warm up dances and then anyone could raise their hands and say what they want to do today, declare a venue and time for it.

Those interested could join any of these activities which included things as diverse as doing hip hop to discussing parenting, reversing biological age, learning stop motion animation, and even making music from every day things. There were no speakers and attendees roles as all of those who joined co-created these activities.

Those who did not want any of these could go on play Frisbee, volleyball or indulge with kids in the sand pits. Still others who found all this maddening were free to find or create their own spaces to muse about futility of doing anything.

So in those six days I ended up making dolls from pine leaves, learnt a few Kathak steps from a 10-year-old, upgraded my Bollywood dance moves, helped paint a wall, attended a session on NLP, tried learning cartwheeling from two young and domineering Italian girls (and failed), got a few helpful German phrases to use, and watched some amusing short movies.

Nights came alive with multiple bonfires where smaller groups either read poetry, did music, played dumb charades or carried on with intense discussions about menstruation or indigenous Indian traditions.

It was as if college days were back, minus the boring lectures. And yes going back to college in mid 30s is much more fun. Kids of course had more fun than us. They also promptly put up massage parlours and games at the flea market-cum-fair to earn the Tucs, a parallel currency tried at LSUC.

Little Tashvi giving kathak lessons to Yash. Yes we also did that at the Learning Societies Unconference. #sixdaysofbliss #dance #kathakpros #ungender

A video posted by manu moudgil (@manumudgil) on Dec 29, 2016 at 8:46am PST

On relationship front, we had speed dating, which I didn’t attend but heard was a failure as more guys turned up than girls (usual damn) and another session on finding a partner for long term which I attended and went well. Here the already committed gave some really useful advice and singles relayed confused sounds, as usual. My take away was: First know yourself, prioritise the values you can't compromise on, tell your close friends about the kind of person you are looking for and then spend some good, long time with the referred person.

Another warm session (with quilts) had us discussing unconditional love which had Sufi stories mixed with personal experiences and moans.

Yet another overwhelming session was on “family constellation” therapy, which is based on the premise that any issue with you is related to some event, may be five generations past, in your family. There was only this girl who had recently had a serious accident and me attending this one. We could not believe much of what facilitator said but at the end he got us both into an activity about “field of connection” which is the key element of this therapy. In this one person tells the other about his/her issue, draws a circle and lets the other in that circle. I could not believe the deep association I felt with this girl when she was standing in my circle of connection and it was gone the moment she stepped out. And when it was my turn to enter her circle, it was overpowering to the point of suffocation. I don’t know what it was, but it was not the mind, it was so much real.

Igor and Debora, world travellers from italy, playing Balkan music along with Indian Xylo players. Well thats what we did most of the time at Learning Societies Unconference, a week of spontaneity and pouring emotions. #music #learnings #communityliving

A video posted by manu moudgil (@manumudgil) on Dec 26, 2016 at 10:17am PST

There were so many other things that we did and bonded over. The most important thing for me was the realisation that there are so many possibilities of living with abundance. I consider myself to be lucky being without a usual 9 to 5 job, EMIs to pay and still sustaining. But this event told me there’s still a lot to shed… especially tears. Yes, I always considered myself dry eyed, and here I was crying copiously, many a times being moved by a simple statement or sharing.

That's Manish Jain on the left, dear friend Shibu & my Tirchi Topi self.

What was this world where we could be ourselves, sauntering around in night suits and unkempt looks without getting a second stare? Where we could sing, dance and act unhindered? It was utopia.

At one of the nights, Manish Jain, the founder of Shikshantar shared his Shamanic experiences from south America which says that the natural forces get activated between 12 to 6 at night, so whatever dreams you get around that time are messages from the other world. This meant that 15 people huddled into the room I was sharing with a friend and slept off with the question: "Why we are here? Why this unconference in the desert?" I could not get into the mode due to the snores of early sleepers. But one of them had a very clear message to share. What he saw was a thick forest where so much is concealed and then a desert where things are evident. Everything has to come out or is revealed by the moving sands. That's why we were there: To find our true selves. It’s difficult to be back from that place.

But at least we know how we can create our own spaces now amidst all that madness around. And that’s the best gift to take to 2017.

I wish you can experience this blessing too.

See more videos and pics from the unconference at this facebook page 

Anupam Mishra: The Gandhian I know

Source: TED Talks

Anupam ji’s work can’t be measured in words, least of all by me. Here are some of my memories of him over a few years.

“I remember I need to work on that article of yours. Will do that when I get better,” Anupam ji said taking my hands in his. He had gone weak, was in a lot of pain but still took out the time to attend the inaugural day of India Rivers’ Week (IRW) last month. That he remembered a promise he had made five months back amidst all that he was going through surprised me. But then I reminded myself: “This is Anupam ji. Nothing can put him down.”

It was around six years back that a friend I lived with lent me Anupam ji’s famous work, Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab. I had already heard about him from another close friend several times. After reading just two pages, I decided I am never returning this book, a sacrilegious act among book lovers. As can be confirmed by anyone who has read this book, it offers several new insights into ways to perceive the world besides it being a go-to book on water conservation.

I shed tears of joy and felt inspired by the in-depth writing on water heritage built on the goodness of people. “Ache ache kaam karte jaana (moving on doing the good work)”, is a phrase from the book that resonates with many of his readers.

I was also charmed by the way he had put his thoughts to paper. “Can Hindi be written like this,” I had wondered thinking about all those insipid syllabus books, fiction and newspaper articles I had read till then. Of course, I went ahead and read more well-written Hindi books through recommendations, but the prose of Anupam ji is still the yardstick I measure any non-fiction with. Brajrattan Joshi, a Hindi professor at Bikaner, reaffirmed my belief later when he told me he has got Anupam ji’s books as part of the curriculum for college students on writing style.


After a couple of re-readings of Aaj bhi..., I was yearning to meet him. A call was made to his office at the Gandhi Peace Foundation (GPF). “Anupam,” he used to say after picking the phone instead of a usual “Hello”, establishing an instant connection. I dropped names of our common friends hoping to secure an appointment knowing little that such formalities were not needed. “I am busy today, would have kept some time if I had known you wished to come. Please do visit tomorrow and we will have lunch together. It is simple food but you will enjoy,” he said. It was all unexpected.

Going by his fame, I had imagined somebody with people running around him, at least a couple of computers on display and cell phones caroling frequently. But here was a man working without a cellphone or a computer, surrounded by letters people wrote to him. A couple of wooden almirahs adorned with old postcards and images of famous personalities from Gandhi ji to Sunita Narain, stood in his room. As we relished the food at the GPF canteen, he enquired about my interests and thoughts while sharing his insights.

He came out to drop me at the adjacent bus stop and amazed me with his compassion: “Just because you know me and our friends who work on water, doesn’t mean you have to do the same. Do what you feel like.” “How did he read my mind?,” I wondered. I had no intention at that time of writing on environment and wanted to focus on governance and the right to information. I was also getting sick of environmentalists telling me how important their work was and what I was doing was a waste of time. Though I ended up being an environment journalist, it took a gradual process of self-exploration, the importance of which Anupam ji knew. “Come again sometime. We will have another picnic,” he said while I was leaving.

Over the years, we met infrequently at his office or at events. His writings, talks, television interviews were another way of staying in touch. An endearing write up by his close friend Prabhash Joshi informs us of his younger years and what inspired him. Gandhi Marg, the bi-monthly periodical Anupam ji brought out, was another extension of his personality. It does exceptionally well to make Gandhian philosophy relevant for today’s world. I try to read one write-up from this magazine every morning as the pieces, selected and edited by him, give me the same feeling of oneness with the world as a session of meditation would.

Despite all the goodness he saw in people, Anupam ji was not the one who minced words while criticising something, as could be seen from his public addresses and articles. I also got a good dressing down three years ago when he got to know I was part of a research project studying the public perception of programmes of Doordarshan’s regional channels. Government welfare schemes were also a component of the study and Anupam ji, being a true Gandhian, believed that such support impacts the self-sufficiency of people. “The research subject is good but see to it that it does not end up supporting the government schemes,” he advised.

Five months back Anupam ji had called, after sourcing my number from a friend. He had read my write up on paddy farming in Punjab and was elated. “I have never read such a comprehensive piece on this issue. I would translate it myself, lying in bed while this disease passes by, and publish it in Gandhi Marg,” he had said. It was a big deal for me, as would have been for anyone else. No past appreciation or awards had such a deep resonance. I could not help boasting it to friends. His treatment for prostate cancer was almost over and we all were expecting him to continue to mentor us.

But by November this year, it became apparent that cancer had spread to other parts of the body. Everybody was feeling dismal but not Anupam ji. Despite all that pain, he displayed his trademark wisdom and wit while addressing IRW.

Anupam ji has moved on doing such good work and as this write up says, it will be hard to replace him. Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab remains a book I read whenever upset with the way things are in the world. It never fails to turn me into an optimist. May be it’s time to read it once again.

This piece was first published at India Water Portal