A disciple asked the Zen Master, “Master, when do you meditate?” The Master replied, “I meditate when I eat and when I sleep”. The confused disciple entreated, “We all eat and sleep – but that is not meditation?” The Master explained – “There is a difference. When you eat and sleep – your mind is full of other thoughts. But I only eat when I eat and only sleep when I sleep”. In a similar vein, Swami Vivekananda told one of his followers, “He who cannot cook well can never make a good sannyasin. Unless the mind is pure, the food can never be tasty”. But there is a difference.
Swami Vivekananda was the epitome of “practical Vedanta”. He was a monk but not an ascetic. His spirituality was rooted amidst the masses. His ideas are more relevant now than ever. But to comprehend his philosophy, it is important to understand Vivekananda the man. So, it is encouraging that more studies are emerging on the temporal aspects of his life, which is essential for a holistic assessment of the phenomenon that was Swamiji. Malati Mukherjee’s translation of Sankar (Mani Sankar Mukherji)’s Bengali work is an addition to that genre.
Like Vivekananda’s thoughts on life, religion and spirituality, his views about food and diet are complex. Presented out of context some of it may even seem to be riddled with contradiction. His culinary doctrine, if there was one, has to be appreciated as part of his evolution from Narendranath to Vivekananda. Sankar attempts to trace that journey through various accounts of his childhood, early sannyasi days, travels abroad culled out from myriad sources and Vivekananda’s own correspondence with his disciples and monastic brethren.
Vivekananda had very definitive ideas about the anthropology of food. He developed his theory by observing food habits around the world in the course of his overseas sojourns and studies of our own scriptures. He believed diet was as much a function of climate, geography and nature of work as it was of culture or religion.
Spirituality and diet
He, therefore, challenged conventional notions about correlation between spirituality and diet. While a “sattvic” vegetarian diet may be the best for those on a spiritual path, those engaged in physical labour may eat meat as a source of nutrition. Just saying ‘X’ and ‘Y’ are quite healthy and strong despite being vegetarian is not enough. Compare the entire race. To assert Ahimsa is the greatest dharma” but to impose it on all without studying the consequences can be ruinous for society. Thus you have some people “feeding sugar to ants while plotting to ruin their brother for money”. “God is not a fool”, he would say.
Vivekananda was firm in his conviction that the sattvic way of life is not for everyone. It is fine for a small proportion of the population to pursue a sattvic lifestyle. But for progress, he asserted, “we need the awakening and inspiration of rajasik energy” - otherwise the country will become “inert like trees and rocks”, which is really the lethargic gloom of ‘tamas’.
With regard to sannyasins, he would say that society thinks a man conquers all his senses as soon as he takes a monk’s vows. That he thought was both unfair and unrealistic. “Should we pass our lives constantly assessing the quality of the food we eat, or should we control our senses?” he asked. For the latter we need to be “discerning about the food we chose to eat” but cannot reduce “dharma to a pot of rice”. A monk needs nourishment to sustain his work for humanity. He can eat whatever he gets and will never lose his “caste” because of that. “Is God a nervous fool like you that the flow of His river of mercy would be dammed up by a piece of meat? If such be He, His value is not a pie!”, Swamiji once wrote to a disciple, apropos of criticisms by orthodox Brahmins about his eating meat in the West.
The book is laden with anecdotes and stories that often digress from the main message. Those who are not steeped into the lives of Sri Ramakrishna and Vivekananda may feel a bit lost in the procession of characters and subplots. Sankar has drawn his references from multiple sources. As a result there are some repetitions. His style of narration, essentially written for a Bengali audience, is not amenable to vanilla translation. Perhaps, a transcreation distilling the juice (or retrieving the “Maal” from the “Gol” of Golmaal - to use Sri Ramakrishna’s favourite expression) would have made it more accessible for the uninitiated reader.
Swamiji imbibed the love of cooking and joy of feeding others from his father. It was part of the milieu he grew up in. He was never apologetic about it. “People like me are the culmination of all aggregates. I can eat large quantities of food, or stay without eating at all, smoke or abstain completely. Yet, I also willingly experience the senses. Else, where is the value of abstention?” he asked.
Another commentator on Vivekananda wrote, “the joys of Prakriti are no less than the joys of sat and chit (being and consciousness). Prakriti unfolds itself in the amazing diversity of forms, colours, sounds..Like poetry, music, words, sounds and feelings” - food is another manifestation of Prakriti.
There are a thousand facets of Vivekananda. This book feasts upon a delectable part of his personality.
Swami Vivekananda – The Fasting, Feasting Monk
Sankar/ translated from original Bengali by Malati Mukherjee
Penguin
247 pages (paperback); ₹399
( Sandip Ghose is a business leader, a prolific commentator on current affairs and blogs on food and life)