In the last week of April, I called Mantreswarananda, secretary of publications of Ananda Marga. Could I visit Ananda Nagar in Purulia for a few days? “Not right now,” he said. “I will call you back after a few days.” He kept his word.
Purulia is a five-hour train ride—from the Howrah station in Kolkata. Situated on the Jharkhand border, it is a portrait of parched beauty, a rural haven of mud-and-thatch homes and abundant poultry. “Jharkhand is very close by,” said Tapan Mahato, who drove me from Purulia railway station to Ananda Nagar. “Most people travel to Jharkhand for their daily needs. Look at the number plates,” he said, pointing to the JH registration vehicles speeding on the highway.
It was equal parts trepidation and excitement as I approached the last leg of the journey to the Margis’ ashram. Some of the reports I had read called them a tantric cult who danced holding skulls and snakes. Some others dubbed them as inciters of violence, in reference to a blood feud it once had with the CPI(M).
Rector Master Narayanananda—the administrator of the Ananda Nagar—was a soft-spoken ascetic in orange robes, certainly not a figure that I had come to expect. He welcomed me into a clean yet spartan two-storey building. “This was the very first abode of the Margis, the address under which we were first registered. Our administrative headquarters is at Kolkata,” he said. The sect, he said, owned around 1,100 acres in the area, and had 50 lakh members in India and a significant following abroad. They run more than 180 centres across the world.
Ananda Marga (Path of Bliss) was founded in 1955 by Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar (later Anandamurti), a former railway accountant, for “self-realisation and service to humanity”. In 1959, he espoused PROUT (Progressive Utilisation Theory), a socio-economic theory, as an alternative to communism and capitalism. In 1962, he ordained the first monks of Ananda Marga (and the first nuns in 1966), for a mission to spread knowledge across the world. The Margis swear by tantric philosophy, rationalism and neo-humanism—an altruistic approach towards humans, animals and inanimate objects alike. They strive for spiritual proximity with the Parampurush (the Almighty) through social service. Progress was not possible until social equality was achieved for all, Sarkar argued.
The monks practise celibacy, and the adherents of the order avoid meat, tobacco, alcohol, tea, coffee or aerated drinks. They follow the rules of Yama and Niyama, and meditate twice a day. The tandava dance is part of their energy-boosting rituals.
Ananda Marga has always focused on universal good, untrammelled by dogma. Sarkar preached superiority of sama samaja tattva (social equality) over any ideology that stressed atma sukha tattva (selfish pleasure). Yet, violence dogged the group like a dark curse. In 1967, five Margis were murdered in Purulia. In 1971, Sarkar was jailed on charges of murdering Margi defectors. The organisation was banned during the Emergency, and in 1982, 16 Marga monks and a nun were burnt to death by a mob in Kolkata. In 1995, a foreign cargo plane flew over Purulia and dropped 700 AK-47 rifles and other weapons and ammunition.
What caused the violence? We would talk, promised Narayanananda, but there were some places we needed to visit first. In the course of half-an-hour’s journey through the heart of the Margi land, he pointed out schools, orphanages and shelters run for boys and girls—most of them hailing from nearby villages. The Margis run two high schools, 35 primary schools and four junior high schools in Ananda Nagar. “We believe that education, health and spirituality should be free for everyone.” Money came as donations, he said, but there was no centralised budget as such.
We stopped at Uma Nivas, a girls’ shelter, where there were 26 inmates, all in their early teens. Guided by a nun in saffron, they bowed low, touching Narayanananda’s feet in respect. Would you like to hear some bhajans, he asked me. In the twinkle of an eye, the girls conjured up a harmonium and broke into a haunting rendition of a Bangla Shiv bhajan composed by Sarkar. What raga was that anyway? “I couldn’t tell for sure,” said Narayanananda. “His works all have an element of fusion in them. Our founder has written over 5,000 songs, you know. Come, we will show you the boys’ home now.”
As we set out, I put the question to him again. Why all the hatred for the organisation? “The Communist Party, under Jyoti Basu, did not want us to grow. It was their campaign of misinformation against us that resulted in countless violent attacks against us. I have seen communists destroying houses and schools that we had set up in Ananda Nagar.”
What about the reports that the murders were mostly orchestrated by former Margis or political rivals to discredit the communist government in West Bengal? It was all a campaign of misinformation, he said.
Were the communists opposed to the philosophy of PROUT? It is an intriguing economic doctrine, the progressive utilisation theory. Strictly anti-capitalist and anti-communist, PROUT stands for a consumption-based economy, seeking to increase the purchasing power of the public. However, minimum essentials of life will be guaranteed to all. A limit would be placed on the property that a person could possess. Materialism is necessary, but only as a way for spiritual evolution.
“Look at it this way,” said Narayanananda. “The communist philosphy is predicated on equality in distribution. We, on the other hand, prefer a system of rational distribution, where the resources are divided according to the type of labour—physical, mental or spiritual. Take the case of spiritual labour. Fruits and roots are ideal for those involved in it. The ones performing physical and mental labour will have different requirements. If there is equal distribution for everyone, where is the incentive for someone to become, say, an engineer? There should be an additional distribution according to quality.”
The boys’ home was built like the girls’ home, though slightly larger. “Musician Shankar Mahadevan is helping us by providing music lessons to these children,” Narayanananda said proudly.
The residents lined up in a spacious hall and demonstrated the tandava dance, the music hitting a crescendo. No skulls or snakes? (In 2004, the Supreme Court had restricted public performances of the Margis’ tandava dance with skull or snakes in hand). “Many misconceptions are being spread,” said Narayanananda. “Tandava dance is derived directly from the teachings of Shiva. The skull and snakes depict our mortality. Anyone who performs tandava nritya every day will get assured physical and mental benefits.” So did he still dance with skulls and snakes? “It is not necessary for everyday performances,” he said.
What about the overseas Margis? “Overseas or domestic, all Margis follow the same rules and principles,” he said. “They usually arrive here for programmes like the Dharma Maha Sammelan, which we hold twice every year.” After decades of hostile press, are the Margis rebranding themselves? “Nothing of the sort. We have always been involved in social work, even during the time of the Communist government. But the media sought to highlight only the negative aspects. As always, we continue with our good work.”