Ten Day Vipassana Meditation at Dhamma Ganga in Kolkata (aka Meditation Prison)

I had no idea what day of the week it was or even whether it had passed into December yet. All I knew was whether I had made it through Day Two, or Day Four, or Day Seven of the course. I was a weary bundle trudging from bell to bell. Every day was the same: roll out of bed at the last possible moment after the 4:30 a.m. wake-up bell, throw a skirt and sweatshirt over my pajamas, meditate, bell, walk in the courtyard, bell, meditate, bell, eat, walk, bell, meditate, bell, meditate, bell, meditate. The five-minute breaks were barely enough time to walk two times around the courtyard and run to the bathroom in my room. Meditating 10 hours a day is exhausting.

We were to observe noble silence until Day 10, which meant that until then, we weren’t supposed to communicate at all, not even with gestures. Out of pure necessity, I probably did that two or three times. We could talk to the Dhamma Server— the veteran student who had volunteered to shepherd us around and help facilitate our stay— and we could talk to the Teachers from noon to 1:00 p.m. and after the last meditation around 9:00 p.m. Even then, I wanted to keep my silence as much as possible. I avoided talking to the Dhamma Server unless it seemed absolutely necessary. We were also allowed to talk to the female staff person who was a spunky elf of a lady. She seemed to engage in some unnecessary talking that I tried not to respond to orally. Avoiding communication pretty much meant that people avoided eye contact with each other. It’s hard not to smile or make some sign of recognition if you look directly at someone. 

Sleeping and eating facilities are gender segregated, so the only time we saw the opposite sex was in the Dhamma Hall for meditation.

Dhamma Hall

The courtyards where we walked were also gender segregated and divided not only by a gate, but also green mesh. During breaks, we could see the bottom half of male legs doing their own walking rounds. 

The room and food were much better than I had expected. The room was very nice and as nice as any that I had paid for during my travels in India. All of the upstairs rooms were singles, and I felt lucky to get one.

(clockwise) top floor of the dormitory, my room, and the dorm building

And the food was actually delicious! Breakfast was my favorite— some kind of main course, one glass of warm milk, krakara, cornflakes, a small banana, chai, and sometimes a small fruit. Lunch was rice, chapati, dal, and one or two dishes of subje (vegetables), sometimes a dessert, and some sliced cucumbers. Dinner was called a tea break. Returning students weren’t allowed to eat anything at all for dinner but us new students were allowed one small banana, a glass of warm milk, and unlimited puffed rice (plain or masala flavored), which was really just like eating air.

We started out meditating at the Dhamma Hall but by Day 5, us new students were allocated a meditation cell (kind of like a closet) where we were allowed to meditate alone at certain set times— 1:00 p.m. and 3:30pm.

Meditation cell

Meditating alone was really hard. The social pressure or inspiration, depending on how you looked at it, of other meditators kept me awake and more focused, 

Private meditation cells

My favorite part of each day was the evening dharma talks. Guruji (S.N. Goenka) was equal parts sage and comedian with stories to elaborate on each spiritual point.

Since he had been a former businessman, he had an understanding and connection to the real world that contextualized what he was saying. I think it was also everyone else’s favorite part of the day because it was the only time everyone was early! Especially as the course went on, people would wait until the last possible moment to go into Dhamma Hall to sit for our meditation sessions. 

What I hadn’t realized about the meditation retreat was that it was structured as a progression. Every day introduced a new element to our practice. 

The first two and a half days were the hardest for me. On the second day I found a good seated position with my knees supported by pillows that seemed like it would be tolerable. And then on the third day I found the source of my aching neck and adjusted my arm position. Days 5 and 6 were the easiest days for me. I felt some vibrations/tingling/buzzing in my lips and fingertips and felt an ability to concentrate deeply. Unfortunately that didn’t last. Days 7 and 8 were excruciatingly difficult. I could barely start mentally sweeping my body when my mind would wander and I couldn’t remember what I was doing and where on my body I was. Plus by then, my body was painfully aching. The part that hurt the most was my shoulders and neck. A knot near the right side of my shoulder blade would flare up as soon as I sat in a meditation pose. 

Private meditation building

As part of our ten days of noble silence, on the first day, we had to turn over our phones and all writing and reading materials. I had been nervous about the noble silence and thought that would be the most difficult part of the retreat. But noble silence was surprisingly enjoyable and easy. It turned out that I didn’t miss talking at all. 

Actually, when noble silence ended on Day 10, I was really sad. Not just sad, but also anxious. As I waited in line to claim my valuables, I felt a rising anxiety. All external stimuli had mostly been stopped. It’s easy to control reactions when there’s not much to react to other than some intense physical discomfort. But I guess the thought of all the messages and other potential inputs waiting for me panicked me. I saw everyone turn their phone on immediately and begin to chatter away excitedly to the other participants. I wasn’t sure if or when I wanted to turn on my phone. All I wanted to do was run and hide and not talk to anyone. Which I did. I scooped up my belongings and went back to my room and immediately started scribbling in my journal. It was like a pent up release of thoughts. I had missed my journal.  I had missed writing. I’ve been journaling ever since second grade, so I’ve always been able to talk to myself or escape to another world through my books. And I did cheat after a few days, and started scribbling a few notes. 

After I hid in my room a bit, I ventured out and had a nice conversation with the woman who had sat immediately in front of me in the Dhamma Hall and my anxiety eased. 

It did become clear to me as the day progressed how much energy it takes to communicate, to make one’s meaning clear, to try not to offend, and to be polite. And after one especially awkward conversation with my meditation and dining seat neighbor, I was reminded that getting out of conversations with people I’m not interested in talking to takes a lot of energy!

It’s funny how bonded with the other meditators I felt even though we hadn’t said a word to each other until that point. It was either because of proximity over time or having been through something difficult together and persevering. There were 3-5 women who dropped out— some after day 2, one even after day 6. The woman who sat immediately next to me in the dining hall left after the second day. For some reason, the organizers left her place setting out for the entirety of the course, the checkered napkin covering the plate and bowls just as she’d left it.

Dining Hall

To each of us it had appeared that everyone else was doing just fine, but once we were allowed to talk, we could finally share how difficult it had been for each of us. One of the women told me that one day she cried in her cell because she was in so much pain. I confessed that one day I hurt so much that once I got to my cell I leaned my head against the wall and fell asleep. I convinced that I would develop a permanent aversion to meditation if I made myself meditate at that moment. A part of me is convinced that the purpose of noble silence is to keep us from commiserating and complaining. And it did turn out that seeing each other’s perfectly straight backs during meditation sessions with the idea that it was somehow easier for everyone else kept us going. 

One of the days, I went to the midday question session to speak to the teachers. The male teacher asked me, “Why did you come here?” 

“To be more peaceful,” I said. 

I guess that answer sounded too contrived because he replied, “No, why did you come here?”

“I was curious.” I went on to explain that some of my friends had done it. I guess that seemed more genuine and from the heart because he nodded to my reply.

I was curious, but I don't think I had any idea of what I was getting myself into. The ten-day retreat was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Harder than any mountain I’ve climbed, physically and mentally.  Would I recommend it? Well, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? I definitely exercised a muscle enough that meditating seems much more reflexive and natural to me now. 

Postscript--

When I went to India, my friend Judit told me she had told a friend of hers that I was going to India and her friend had said something like, “What is she searching for? Everyone who goes to India is looking for something.” At the time, I laughed at Judit and said I wasn’t searching for anything, It was curiosity more than anything and a deep desire to see a vast country at a slow pace.  I did find something though, now that I have the perspective of almost ten months and a pandemic. I found a deep silence within myself. I became friends with silence in a way that I never was before.

On the banks of the Ganges, upon exiting our meditation retreat

On the last day, after we were allowed to leave the meditation center, some of my fellow meditators and I walked to the banks of the Ganges. It was just outside the doors of our meditation center. We felt so joyful to be out and free!