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Across India,at almost 100 centres,youngsters like Singh are enrolling for Vipassana,a tough form of meditation said to have been practised by the Buddha. A Pali word meaning “to look in a special way”,Vipassana demands complete seclusion from the outside world for 10 days. People meditate for more than 10 hours daily,not talking or even looking at another human being except on the final day. “No phone calls are allowed,neither are newspapers or television,” says Apoorva Lochan,regional coordinator for school Vipassana courses in north India.

Everything at the Vipassana camps is free,from food to lodging. Various trusts operate centres in cities across the world under the aegis of principal Vipassana teacher S.N. Goenka. Inside,the rules are stringent. “The food is sattvik (vegetarian fare prepared without onion or garlic). One wakes up at 4 am and the last major meal is at 11am. But something about this austerity is appealing to youngsters,” says Lochan.

“Very few youngsters take up Vipassana when they’re completely happy. For the most part,a problem drives us there,either studies or work or a love affair gone haywire. We don’t want to upset our parents by talking about it and friends cannot offer much comfort. All we want is to get away,” says 25-year-old Anjali Soni,a voice and accent trainer at a recruitment firm in Chandigarh. Last summer,she entered a camp at Sohna,on the outskirts of Delhi,where peacocks roam the grounds around the meditation halls and cuckoo calls fill the air. “The first days were torture. There were two or three other girls my age at the camp,but they left very soon. The routine was probably too difficult for them,” she says.

The time table is common to every centre. Meditation begins at 4.30 am and continues for two hours. Breakfast is served at 6.30 am and meditation resumes from 8am to 11 am. “We rest for an hour after lunch and begin meditating at 2 pm. At 5 pm,we’re served tea and snacks and then we meditate from 6 pm to 7 pm. This is followed by a one-and-a-half-hour audio-visual discourse. By 9 pm,we leave for our rooms to sleep,” says Soni. Between 50 and 1,000 people meditate together at various camps across India; but essentially one is alone.

A girl says she held mental conversations with her friends to kill the loneliness,another used the meditation time to dwell on her broken love affair and a boy confessed that he would cry to sleep and contemplated quitting. “I’d heard that if one can get through to the third day,one can go the whole hog,so I persevered,” says Singh. At the meditation sessions,people are taken through three stages—from concentrating on breathing in the first three days to learning how to look within oneself from the fourth afternoon to the art of sharing goodwill on the final morning. “We channel our thoughts away from pessimism,training our minds to remain happy. My problem didn’t go away,but I found an inner strength to handle it,” says Soni. Almost all Vipassana practitioners echo the same words.

Prem Chauhan,secretary of the Vipassana Sadhana Sansthan,a trust that operates centres in the NCR,says,“Vipassana is generally taken up by middle-aged people and senior citizens. Youngsters have been attending the camps but it was in the last decade that their numbers began to increase.” Currently,more than two lakh tweens enter Vipassana camps every year across India,making up five per cent of the total number of meditators.

At the centres,you meet IITians,MBA and civil services aspirants,budding entrepreneurs,artists and even a DJ or two. “We are getting sucked into a rut,not knowing what we want in terms of life and career. But nobody can resolve my issues other than me and,for that,I need time-off with myself. At home,there are parents and siblings,duties and responsibilities. That’s why I call Vipassana a holiday with myself,” says Kaveri,22,a law student from Mumbai,who did a 10-day session last year. She came away “feeling lighter”. “Not only did I resolve my issues,there was also an unexpected bonus: I felt the urge to resume my classical music lessons after a three-year gap,” she says.

The first five days are the toughest,“but if you can get through these,you can take on anything in the world,” says Singh. Surprisingly,nobody recalls any physical anguish —even die-hard smoker Vikas Mohanpuri,28,from Delhi,who used to go through 30 cigarettes a day,says he didn’t feel the urge to light up even once at the camp,and Mohit Sharma,24,from Bikaner in Rajasthan,who wields two mobile phones and has 100 friends,went through two back-to-back sessions in April,spending 20 days all by himself.

There are more than 150 centres across the world,all located far away from cities. “In the domed Vipassana halls,the hubbub of urban activity is replaced by a comforting stillness. I wasn’t used to so much peace. It was disturbing,” laughs Sanky,a 22-year-old DJ from Pune.

Zen Buddhist teacher Shantum Seth calls it a positive phenomenon that’s set to spread further as Indian youngsters grapple with increased frustration,anger and envy. “It’s worthwhile for them to stop the treadmill and look at their own minds,” he says,adding that when he enrolled for Vipassana in the 1980s,he was among the very few young people in the group.

A weakening bond with parents and the pressures of ambition have stripped away traditional support structures for the youth. For many,even religion offers little solace. “Though I believe in God,I am not overtly religious. Rituals would make me uncomfortable. In Vipassana,there’s no external figure. It is only us,our thoughts and our minds,” says Shweta Anand,a Delhi-based mediaperson.

After the camp,one is expected to meditate every day,and Anand has done so. “I was 20 when I went for my first camp and up to my ears in family troubles. I’ve been to five camps since then and I’m living life to the fullest. I’m off for Vipassana when I can. It’s a feeling like nothing else,” she says.