p.21-22 I remember that moment when my constructed, conditioned versions of ‘self’ started dissolving, the disguises started peeling off.

It was the last morning of the retreat, which also happened to be my forty0seventh birthday. The previous evening, I had been sitting on a bench facing the river and the hill on the other side of it. I could see the cave where George Harrison had once hung out with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. A quiet mist ascended from the water and I felt my eyes tearing. It may have been from sadness or joy, or both, or neither. The aquamarine water and the emerald green hill in the distance turned into Impressionist art in my blurred vision. I blinked a few time and saw a speck of tangerine in the distance. As it came closer, the object morphed into a monk.

Then, the bells started to chime. First one, and then many, in symphonic unison, little and big bells that hung at the entrances of temples all around, until they reached a crescendo, distant but also simultaneously vibrating within me.

I remembered what a qawwali singer at Ajmer Sharif had once told me: Music is always an offering in temples and churches and mausoleums.

‘This is why you find a bell at the entrance in places of worship. And this is why we sing in the dargah or in the gurudwara,’ he said, pausing to engage with his spittoon. ‘Even when a dacoit is about to attack someone, and he hears a temple bell, he will involuntarily stop in his tracks, even if only for a moment. This is kachcha jadoo, primordial magic.’ And back he went to his music, belting out more boisterous Allahoos.

It felt like I was in a timeless space. I could have been sitting there centuries ago, or at some point in the future. It didn’t really matter. Our version of the ‘self’ are all clay, mutable, and therefore capable of what psychologists call neuroplasticity: the human being’s inherent potential to transform into anything they wish to be. A rogue bandit can become a saint; a warrior king could become a Buddhist monk.

p. 75 Before women had access to therapy, they often turned to religion and gurus to help them navigate difficult families. My ma-in-law Hardevi battled the trauma of early widowhood and overbearing patriarchy by turning to god. But rather than sitting passively in front of a statue, she found her way to the non-ritualistic altar of Vedanta philosophy. she studied the Bhagvad Gita and translated it into Sindhi, patiently writing in the Arabic script, for she had attended school in pre-Partition Karachi.

Senior journalist and musician Namita Devidayal’s latest book, Tangerine: How to Read the Upanishads Without Giving Up Coffee is a memoir about her finding peace and tranquility and shedding unnecessary baggage. In short, it is the the self-help book that she avoids reading but wrote one herself. Honestly speaking, it is much more. It is deliciousness poured into words with generous sprinkling of wisdom and the elegant manner in which she straddles cultures while writing is superb. She makes visible that many of prefer to keep hidden. A sense of familiarity and ease to be who we are in this modern age. We live, borrow, and breathe many experiences — call them faith, call them culture, call them whatever you will — but many individuals prefer to either shush about different aspects of their life or not acknowledge it all. Spiritual sustenance being a very key part of Namita’s existence and that she does not shy away from discussing. It does create some awkward moments for her in social gatherings or even with her son when she wants to pursue her readings of the Upanishads and has many questions to ask, but given the times that we live in, people misinterpret her genuine queries and think that she has crossed over to the other side and is being irrational. She is not. She is interested. She wants to know. Hence, this book. It does not matter if you are an atheist or a believer, it is a book that you will devour and not forget in a hurry.

Tangerine is published by Westland Books. The exquisitely designedcover, with its peekaboo circles in the dust jacket highlighting the moonlit night sky and plenty of green vegetation has been designed by Saurabh Garge.

I interviewed Namita for TOI Bookmark. Here is the Spotify link:

19 Oct 2025