Review of Narendra’s Landscapes of Wilderness: Meditation in the wild

An immersive experience of life among the adivasis of Bastar

Ramana Maharshi’s observation, “silence is also conversation”, quoted in Narendra’s Landscapes of Wilderness, seems to be the guiding spirit of this meditative discourse on life among the adivasis. “Abujhmad [Bastar] seemed like a vast ancient silence of centuries; of stillness and its speechlessness.” Narendra spent three decades with the adivasis in Abujhmad, and came away with many observations, which he has compiled in this book.

There is an undercurrent of interconnectedness between the 39 short chapters in the book, which explore the abiding relationships and an “alikeness of rhythms, flows and paces” between humans and nature. It is not an easy read, but will leave the reader feeling sad about the society we have morphed into. Narendra laments the rapid shrinking of open spaces and forests that the adivasis call home. Much before it gets lost forever, the author documents the adivasi narratives that are invariably indeterminate but captivating no less. In the present when people often choose what is economically beneficial over what is morally right, Landscapes of Wilderness helps the reader escape from bewildering social spaces to be with one’s inner svabhav (temperament or disposition).

So lyrical is the prose that one reads the words slowly, savouring them and rolling them over in the mind. But for it to happen, the mind should be first decongested to allow such thoughts to find space. “The Adivasis only live in nature, not with nature but like nature, because they find any other way too material and municipal to live with.” Adivasi conversations are sprinkled with metaphors that leave the listener with suggestive meanings. Word in itself has no meaning other than what it is intended to convey. When dealing in nature, should words remain fixed and authoritarian?

Given the extensive time spent amidst the wilderness, the author is nostalgic about the quality time spent amid the adivasis and may seem to be over-glorifying some of it. Yet, the wilderness has clues for many of the civilisational challenges that a modern lifestyle confronts on a daily basis. The institutional arrangement of ghotul as a step towards a conjugal relationship has been widely written and talked about, but there is still much to learn from it as relationship break-ups become common. “Staying amongst trees, animals, insects, soil and sky, she and he remain gentle and generous human beings. When life is simple and bare,” concludes Narendra, “conflicts and issues become superfluous.”

There is little denying that there is life beyond the global grid of politico-economic and knowledge systems to which lives of innumerable others are tied to. Narendra’s third book looks at how landscapes in wilderness nurture wisdom even when the community under reference has no more than 500 words in its vocabulary and cannot count beyond five. The author contends that the book’s intention is not to critique modernity but to capture the silence in wilderness.

The book takes the reader into unchartered territory that functions as a mirror to our internal landscapes. Written with concern and compassion, it is a thought-provoking book that will appeal to anyone who is interested to look beyond the physicality of what is often referred to as ‘wild’.

Landscapes of Wilderness; Narendra, HarperCollins, ₹399.