A Jain Muni

(continuing with the trip to Madhya Pradesh, even though it was over more than ten days ago)

Amongst the sights that has stayed with me is this one, of a naked man. Striding along a public road in Bhopal. He had a handful of attendants preceding him and also following him, but in no way restricting him or attempting to shield him from view.

We were in our car, with our excellent driver Mahindra. I was sitting in front and exclaimed at once “Oh – ! Look!” to my sister and niece in the rear.

Mahindra said, in explanation, “Jain Muni.”

Well, yes. Of course that’s what he was. An ascetic belonging to the Jain religion. A man who voluntarily chooses to go without all worldly effects, including clothes.

According to our driver, wherever such a person chooses to spend the night, that place must become a temple. My mind was starting to boggle – “wow! Major liability to have one as a house guest” – but the practical reality is that a Muni will usually only travel from point to point, from one existing Jain temple to another.

As we passed him, I could have turned around to see the front view but … didn’t.

Why? I mean, the man was intentionally naked. Why not turn and look?

This may not seem like a very convincing reason, but: I wanted to preserve that pristine view. Of just his splendid bare back. Without having to see his face, his expression and his dangly bits. All of those elements would have resulted in some type of judgement (handsome or ugly, fierce or blank, weird or funny) – and I didn’t want that.

It really was a splendid back. He was a completely even ochre brown colour, with no blemishes or marks. Neither fat nor thin, lightly muscled. He was glistening, as if he’d been be oiled from head to foot, though that may have been sweat. He was medium tall, shaven clean and held his back absolutely straight, but in a relaxed, easy-going way. He was striding, not strolling, as if walking along a private path, alone in the world.

It was for me a remarkable sight. Yes, I know that the Kumbha Mela was in progress (not too far away) and that it’s a period when hundreds of Munis as well as naked ascetics of other persuasions, flock towards the rivers. There are therefore thousands of bare-skinned men, most often covered in ash, with matted coils of their hair piled up or straggling loose around their heads. There are also millions of photographs taken of them and published in the gawker press. To my eyes, they all look freakish, sublimely filthy and otherworldly. I’ve never especially been interested in them.

This man, however, did not look freakish. He just looked astoundingly naked and human and vulnerable and – yes, as usual I’m carrying on a little too much – also heroic.

He was impressive. He radiated positive energy as if lit from within. He was like a blinding light in the shape of a small brown man.