{"id":5578,"date":"2024-02-07T03:03:10","date_gmt":"2024-02-07T08:03:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/?p=5578"},"modified":"2024-02-07T03:04:56","modified_gmt":"2024-02-07T08:04:56","slug":"free-will-faith-and-a-journey-to-india","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/philosophy\/free-will-faith-and-a-journey-to-india\/","title":{"rendered":"Free Will, Faith, and a Journey to India"},"content":{"rendered":"

Free Will<\/b><\/p>\n

Here\u2019s a question for you: can you point to anything in your life, any singular thing you\u2019ve done or accomplished, that is your own doing? The question, though at first glance a bit bizarre, stems from a stream of questions I have asked and continue to ask myself. The first of this stream is as follows: which of my actions, if any, can be separated from the rules of cause and effect, the principles of causality that underlie the physics of the universe? The second of these questions mirrors the first, though it is not quite the same: are my genetic code (nature) and upbringing (nurture) the only two influences of my character? The third question, the core question, the question that philosophers have asked for centuries and will ask for centuries to come, is a natural result of the first two: do I, do you, do any of us actually have control over our actions and ourselves? In other words, do I, do you, do any of us, have free will?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was 15, the full force of these questions hit me. The more I thought about them, the more my rationalistic mind struggled to come up with a good answer. It seemed everywhere I turned, the truth was simply there, ringing with cold clarity: your freedom is an illusion. Your identity is an illusion. Your life is an illusion. To solve such existential doubts, many turn to the comfort of religion. However, as a stubborn atheist who favored science and rationality over the written word of the Bible, I always felt that religion could not reveal the truths of mankind \u2013 that, in fact, religion prohibits those truths from revealing themselves. At 15, I couldn\u2019t imagine how someone could have faith in a God that has no proof of existence. By extension, I didn\u2019t understand how someone could have faith at all \u2013 an act that, by definition, requires one to believe in something they have no tangible reason to believe in. When, at 17, I began to explore dharmic traditions, I was constantly asking this question. As it turns out, so were the founders of said traditions. Within the folds of Hinduism, which encompasses six different schools of thought, hundreds of deities, and multitudes of offshooting philosophies, the debate over free will and faith has raged on since the beginning of time. Or, at the very least, since the beginning of the Bhagavad Gita.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Free Will in the Bhagavad Gita\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

My father once described the Bhagavad Gita to me as \u201cThe Hindu Bible.\u201d While an oversimplification, this comparison can be helpful when thinking about its influence in Hinduism. The Gita is a part of the Hindu epic called <\/span>The Mahabharata, <\/span><\/i>the longest epic poem known to man. Its pages are filled with discussions between Prince Arjuna and his charioteer, Lord Krishna, who gives him advice on how to act in the Kurukshetra War. The text serves as a book of moral guidelines for not only Arjuna, but also for its readers.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Two concepts central to the Gita\u2019s teachings are the <\/span>Atma<\/span><\/i> and the <\/span>Brahman<\/span><\/i>. The <\/span>Atma<\/span><\/i> is, simply speaking, the \u2018Self\u2019 or the soul, while the <\/span>Brahman<\/span><\/i> is the universe as a whole. Among the different schools of Hinduism, there are a variety of interpretations that attempt to describe the relationship between the two. One interpretation is the phrase <\/span>Ayam \u0100tm\u0101 Brahma<\/span><\/i><\/a>. Its meaning is deceptively simple: <\/span>The Atman is the Brahman<\/span><\/i>. This ultimate unity between the self and the universe is only reachable through intense meditation. It leads to moksha<\/span> \u2014<\/span> liberation from the cycles of rebirth. One of the Gita\u2019s ultimate goals is to show us how we can achieve moksha<\/span>. <\/span><\/i>To do this, it must address the concept of free will. To understand this, one must read the Gita with rigorous concentration and dissect its teachings through sincere dialectic conversation. And that\u2019s just what my father did.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In stark contrast to my own childhood, my father grew up in a small silk village, Sualkuchi, nestled in the heart of Assam. He was born into a family with eight siblings, all squished together in one room. By day he was a mischievous student, flicking pencil lead onto the back of the girls in his classes and stealing fish in the market. By night, he was a philosopher, reading the Bhagavad Gita under the soft candlelight of his ancestral home, fervently debating over its hidden meaning with his father, Krishna Ram Das; the local tantric healer, Jagat Ghora; and the renowned Vedic scholars, Dayal Krishna Bora and Hem Bhai Bhaap. Their conversations raged through the night, their inexorable passion taking flight. Yet, though they recorded bits and pieces of what they talked about, they left much of it buried in their memories, forming rust and collecting dust. So when I decided to travel to India for five months during my gap year before college, I did what any curious 18-year-old would do: I blew off the dust, scraped off the rust, and tried to get to the bottom of what, exactly, they had discussed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Four decades after my father and my grandfather sat debating the Gita in their ancestral Sualkuchian home with a tantric healer and Vedic scholar by their side, a lot had changed in the small Indian village. For one, my grandfather had long since passed away, seized by esophageal cancer. His nine children had grown up, married, and had children of their own. The one-story house had turned into a three-story building, the candlelight into a light bulb. And there I was, as I was perhaps always determined to be, reading the Bhagavad Gita under the flickering luminescence of my ancestral home, fervently discussing its hidden meaning with my father, Bikul Das; the local Kamakhya-temple devotee, Pranjal Das; and a philosophy student, Rupam Das.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Through our conversations together, we struggled to come to one definition of \u2018free will.\u2019 I also struggled to understand \u2018free will\u2019 in the context of what my father talked about with Dayal Krishna Bora and Jagat Ghora. Confusion was the norm, misunderstandings arose at the slightest shift in perspective, and yet, we continued to search for the right vocabulary, so that we could properly explain these abstract concepts with clarity. In the end, our conversations illuminated a possible conclusion \u2013 a dim ray of light in the face of a heavily clouded problem. It lacked the certainty of enlightenment, it lacked the brightness of the Brahmanic energy, it lacked the clarity of moksha<\/span>. <\/span><\/i>Instead, it added another interpretation, one of thousands, to the interpersonal, intergenerational, and international conversation regarding free will.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Gita does not give one clear-cut answer to the question of free will, but rather prompts the reader to consider \u2018freedom\u2019 from a variety of angles. On the one hand, it states \u201cAll activities are carried out by the three modes of material nature. But in ignorance, the Atma, deluded by false identification with the body, thinks of itself as the doer\u201d (Bhagavad Gita 3.27). In this clear demarkage of free will, the Gita suggests determinism. The three modes of material nature, or the three \u2018gunas,\u2019 control us, not the Atma. Yet, in a seemingly contradictory phrase, the Gita writes, \u201cthe Atma can control the wandering mind through self-restraint\u201d (6.26) which suggests that the Atma can exert free will, because it can exert control. The Gita resolves this question, proclaiming that <\/span>\u201c<\/span>B<\/span>y transcending the three modes of material nature associated with the body, one becomes free from birth, death, old age, and misery, and attains immortality\u201d (14.20). According to our interpretation, if all activities are carried out by the three modes of material nature, implying determinism, a person only obtains free will once they transcend these modes. This logic applies to non-Hindus as well. As I see it, the Hindus simply relabel \u2018determinism\u2019 as \u2018karma,\u2019 \u2018liberation\u2019 as \u2018moksha,\u2019 and \u2018causes of being\u2019 as \u2018modes of nature.\u2019 Regardless of the vocabulary used, the principle is clear: free will exists only upon the attainment of moksha<\/span>. <\/span><\/i>However, few are able to achieve moksha within the span of their lives \u2013 it requires heavy meditation and practice. For the rest of us, then, how are we to live in a state devoid of free will? Jiva Upkara Tantra provides an answer.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Free Will in Jiva Upakara Tantra\u00a0\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

The bells of Kamakhya Mandir ring through the still air as Pranjal leads a group of us around the temple\u2019s center, muttering a mantra under his breath as we complete eleven circles. Our bare feet hit the floor, our hands hold baskets full of petals and sticks, and our eyes look around to the people milling about in silk <\/span>chador mekhelas<\/span><\/i> and <\/span>dhotis<\/span><\/i>, each muttering their own mantras, holding their own baskets, bare feet hitting the same floor. \u201cThere is a different energy at Kamakhya Mandir. Trust me, just trust me. You will feel it,\u201d Pranjal tells me. I search for the energy, but I can not manifest it. I am no Kamakhya devotee, I am no Hindu, I am no believer. I am agnostic. The eleven circles are just circles, the baskets just tools, the mantras just sounds. Yet after our ritual walk, Pranjal was satisfied. \u201cI told you,\u201d<\/span> he said calmly. \u201cKamakhya is here. She will protect you, as she is protecting me.\u201d Still, because of my lack of belief in tantra, the primary system of worship at Kamakhya, and my lack of connection with the mantras, the sacred mutterings of the tantra, I could not feel as protected as he. And maybe as a consequence, I was not.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There are many different types of tantra, as \u2018tantra\u2019 is simply a system of worship. My grandfather was particularly interested in Jiva Upakara Tantra. \u201cJiva\u201d means life, while \u201cUpakara\u201d means altruism. It makes sense then, that the central goal of the tantra is to restore life through altruistic acts. Jiva Upakara Tantra is an <\/span>orally transmitted confluence of dharmic thought; it is both a medical practice and a philosophy. Its metaphysical foundation lies in the idea of the \u201cAvatar Kosha,\u201d a latent sheath of our body-mind complex. The Avatar Kohsa arises in times of stress for both the individual and the society, restoring their intrinsic balance. It disappears after its job is done, selflessly performing the altruistic act, just as the name of the tantra implies.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

How does Jiva Upkara Tantra relate to free will? According to almost every sect of Hinduism, it is primarily through <\/span>meditation, yoga, and contemplation that one can transcend the material world and obtain free will. Jiva Upkara Tantra is no different, yet it is unique in how it imagines the process of this transcendence: as a scale. The scale is as follows:\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

    \n
  1. Dhriti (determination)<\/span><\/li>\n
  2. Iccha-shakti (willpower)<\/span><\/li>\n
  3. Moksha (liberation)\u00a0<\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

     <\/p>\n

    In this scale, determination leads to willpower, which leads to moksha. To jump from one stage to the next requires communal contemplation and meditation. In a process called <\/span>Vidhata Manthan,<\/span><\/i> a tantric healer leads a group of people through certain rituals and mantras meant to connect them all through their <\/span>vidhata<\/span><\/i> (communal energy). The community members start out with determination. As their determination strengthens through continued practice and mantra recitation, it becomes <\/span>iccha-shakti<\/span><\/i> (willpower). A few sages will attain free will through their liberation, moksha<\/span>, <\/span><\/i>after continued practice. It is important to note that willpower is distinct from free will. Willpower drives someone into action. Free will is the ultimate agency to choose which action to take. In Jiva Upakara Tantra, free will must be cultivated through willpower \u2013 it is not the baseline. Using the tantric rituals, however, it can, theoretically be obtained.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    Paired with Hindu textual evidence, this train of thought makes sense. The cultivation of determination and willpower as a combination of stepping stones that lead to free will is an effective model for how to live; there are immediate benefits to embarking on this journey, despite the possibility you might never actually reach a state of free will. Regardless, Jiva Upakara Tantra urges us to strive towards free will, though we live in a world where it is not given to us as a birthright. Still, I must ask, as I always do: how can we <\/span>earnestly<\/span><\/i> climb this ladder, <\/span>authentically<\/span><\/i> cultivate our willpower, and <\/span>willfully<\/span><\/i> chant mantras, when we know that we do not have a choice over whether or not we do these actions in the first place? As it turns out, it took a chance encounter with an eccentric professor from Maharashtra to explain the only answer that ever satisfied my existential doubts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

     <\/p>\n

    Faith instead of Free Will<\/b><\/p>\n

    Standing in <\/span>a silk <\/span>chador mekhela<\/span><\/i> at an IIT-Guwahati academic conference,<\/span> I greeted a short man with a balding head and inquisitive smirk.<\/span> I was in front of a posterboard riddled with technical terms I did not wholly understand, yet was trying my best to explain their meaning to him. However, because of my American accent, the man<\/span> could not understand me. Instead of trying harder to communicate, he slid his gaze to my cousin next to me, and proceeded to offer his critique of the vocabulary I used. A weird man, I thought. An hour later, I stood on a podium, eyes fixed on his balding head. I realized, now, who he was: a professor, and an important one. Standing before him, I recited technical terms I did understand. I explained Jiva Upakara Tantra and its implications in science to the best of my abilities. I did well, or well enough, excusing a few shakes in the voice and nervous stumbles over words. Upon completion, the professor approached me. He had a cup of tea in his hand, and he invited me to have some too.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    \u201cYou gave quite an impressive presentation.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

    Well, this was interesting. Considering his earlier rather offensive decision to not speak with me but rather with my cousin, his criticism of my word choice, and his know-it-all smirk, I had not thought he would be one to offer a compliment. Yet he did, and with an open smile, he began to tell me of his background. A psychotherapist with a background in genetics research and a scholar from Maharashtra, the professor now ran his own program of distributing cows to the local people in his village. He opened up, and with it came a stream of knowledge on tantra, Hinduism, religion, people, therapy, <\/span>life.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

    \u201cTantra is a highly secretive practice, but it is not black magic. I respect tantrics, because they live a devoted life. Actually, everyone is a tantric, even if they do not know it,\u201d he asserted with a firm nod of his head.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    I argued back. I certainly am no tantric. I do not believe in anything \u2013 everything can be questioned, nothing, absolutely nothing, is certain.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    Once again, he disagreed, insisting, \u201cEveryone is a tantric at heart, and if they are not, they must become one. The principle of the tantrics is devotion, <\/span>bhakti<\/span><\/i>. <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i> to a deity, <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i> to their rituals, <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i> to a belief. Without such a <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i>, we are lost, we are aimless, we know nothing but pain. I am a Vaishnative, so my <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i> is to Vishnu. Your <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i> might be to Shiva, or Lakshmi, or Jesus, or the earth. Everyone has a different <\/span>bhakti<\/span><\/i>. The tantrics have theirs. Those who do not have devotion, they suffer endlessly. In a way, they are the ones who are blind, though they think they can see. Trust me, I\u2019ve seen it in my patients over and over. It\u2019s the truth.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    This thought troubled me, just as it always had. In a world of uncertainty, of chaos, of harm, where free will either does not exist, or is extremely hard to obtain, how can we commit ourselves to any one belief? When all thoughts and theories seem to crumple under the mere kiss of wind, when the faint touch of a dull knife is able to slice them open at any moment? In the face of determinism, how can we be determined to shape our mind and our life, if in the end, we truly have no control over the outcome at all?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    The little man looked up into my eyes. \u201cThose who do not have their own tantra, those who are not devoted to anything, they must find it.\u201d And with that little remark left ringing in my mind louder than the bells of Kamakhya, our conversation ended.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    Nestled in my ancestral home in Sualkuchi, Assam, I once again pored over notes from the discussions of my father, his father, and their philosopher friends. I learned of terms I had never heard before, of people long gone and thoughts long dead, yet reborn once again as I read through their hastily written yet detailed accounts. I sat connected in time and space to the voices of my ancestors, which my father had spent his life working so painstakingly to preserve. These voices emerged in science and in art, in festivals and in work, in temples, in prayer, in meditation, ultimately forming one grand song that I could neither ignore nor fear but was rather forced to hear, undoubtedly loud and unapologetically clear. Faith. Devotion. <\/span>Bhakti<\/span><\/i>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

    Here\u2019s the truth: I am devoted, though I often feel I am not. I am devoted to my family and to my friends. I am devoted to preserving their voices and songs. I am devoted to carrying their legacy forward, to living as though what I did mattered, because it does – to them, even if not to the universe at large. I am devoted to seeking the truth, even if it will only ever be true to me. Why I am devoted, I do not know. But maybe, just maybe, my devotion comes from something greater than myself. Maybe, if I could just let myself, I would realize, I do know how to believe in something greater than myself<\/span>. <\/span><\/i>Maybe, I came to see, maybe the professor was right. Maybe faith is the only force that can set you, me, them \u2013 all of us \u2013 finally free. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Free Will Here\u2019s a question for you: can you point to anything in your life, any singular thing you\u2019ve done or accomplished, that is your own doing? The question, though at first glance a bit bizarre, stems from a stream of questions I have asked and continue to ask myself. The first of this stream […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":710,"featured_media":5579,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[19,552],"tags":[553],"class_list":{"0":"post-5578","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-philosophy","8":"category-religion","9":"tag-hinduism","10":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5578","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/710"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5578"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5578\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5579"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5578"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5578"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/students.bowdoin.edu\/bowdoin-review\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5578"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}