|
OFF-BEAT Salvation, At A Price M-biz rules. That's Moksha, not mobile businesses. Weary of the monotony of urban lives and frustrated with allopathic cures that don't work, people are turning to new age spiritual fads. And a clutch of savvy entrepreneurs are beatifically laughing their way to the bank. By Abir Pal, E. Kumar Sharma and Nitya Varadarajan
I'm exhausted. my mind is empty and I go about my fairly highly-skilled task with a monotony that would do Aibo proud. Over the past month I've grown to understand what Japanese salarymen mean when they speak about death due to overwork. They have a term for it, Karoshi. And so, I plod on. Up at five. The morning run that the doctor ordered. No redeye to catch today. A quick glance at the papers. Drop the kids at school. The one hour drive in to work. The first cup of coffee at work. The first meeting of the day. A client call. The second meeting of the day and the first crisis of the day. Skiplunch..... ''You look like you need a break. Take the rest of the week off,'' says the boss at around half past seven in the evening. Coming from anyone else that might have sounded like a hint that one was being laid off. But I knew my boss; he liked to tell people they no longer worked for him, and the company (he was the company) by calling them into his room, giving them a cheque for three months' salary and a cigar for good measure, shaking their hand, and showing them the door. ''Now's your chance to attend an Art of Living programme,'' says Antony from the cubicle to my right. ''It'll rejuvenate you.''
''Check our Reiki,'' exhorts Akbar from the cubicle to my left (there, now the minorities should be happy). ''It'll give you a fresh perspective on life and work.'' On a whim, I decide to do it all. I'd seen enough ads in the papers for them. Reiki, Feng Shui, Aromatherapy, Pranic healing, Vipassana, oxygen bars... how on earth do people make money from these things. Well, I propose to find that out too. It is Monday. I have four days all to myself. Fine, the wife will no doubt find enough chores that need to be done around the house if she knows I have four days to kill, but, surely, there must be a way out. I call home. ''I'm sending the driver home,'' I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. ''Could you send back some clothes with him; I'll be travelling for the next four days.'' The wife doesn't complain; she is used to it. And my trusted secretary takes care of the rest. Tickets, hotel rooms, cars to pick me up and take me around. For around, I propose to go. Tripping On Tuesday It's a little over 10.30 on a muggy Mumbai morning, and I think I've escaped the worst of the peak hour rush. Finding a Reiki instructor isn't difficult; a quick glance at yesterday's afternoon papers has given me enough to do for the day. Gulroop Bala, a 49-year-old housewife teaches Reiki and crystal therapy from her 600 square feet apartment in central Mumbai. She isn't teaching anything when I meet her, but tells me that she's got a two-day Heal Your Life workshop scheduled for the weekend. The cost of the 'cosmic attainment' that Bala promises? Rs 900. That's at the entry level; she also offers a 21-day advanced programme in Reiki that comes with a price tag of Rs 10,000. In the six years that she has been practicing, she's taught Reiki to at least 700 people. ''In good months I earn in excess of Rs 15,000,'' says the softspoken Bala.
Back in the car, I instruct the driver to head towards Tardeo. I haven't made a cold call in over 18 years, but decide to call on the editor of a magazine that propagates holistic living I came across in Bala's Reiki-den-cum-living-quarters, Life Positive. Then I pull out my trusted Palm and chew on some statistics Bala let drop in the course of her talk. If there are really 50 lakh people who've completed the first stage of Reiki (that enables them to teach others), and if even 10 per cent of them were to offer their services to people suffering from stress, migraine, ulcers, or just about anything allopathy doesn't really have an immediate cure for, charging Rs 500 an hour for 15 hours of work each month, the size of the Reiki industry in India works out to a staggering Rs 375 crore a month or Rs 4,500 crore a year. Suma Varughese-that's the managing editor-does agree to meet with me, but just for a few minutes. We talk shoes, ships, and my sudden interest in new age stress busters which, the lady tells me, is not strange at all. ''All over the world, stressful lives, and a disenchantment with allopathy is making people move to these new age techniques. And the fact that these are endorsed by celebrities, Indian as well as international, makes them hip.'' Life Positive itself is a beneficiary: in six years, it has seen its circulation increase from 6,000 to 66,000. Today, the magazine generates a healthy advertising revenue of Rs 7.5 lakhs a month. It's time for lunch, and I'm tired, so I decide to make one final stop and then head for the hotel. Lunch, shower, and nap, should see me fit to take the evening flight to Chennai. Right now, though, I'm headed for Breach Candy where Moksha, a new-age health club is positioning itself as ''a wellness destination for the body and mind''. I'm impressed with what I see-the club is located in an old-style cottage, apart from the usual health club paraphernalia, it boasts an oxygen bar, mineral bath, aromatherapy facilities, and a yoga centre-but not enough to relocate to Mumbai. I can understand why someone would want to pay Rs 60,000 for a year's membership; so can Pritish Nandy, former journalist and adventure sports freak who hit upon the idea for this club, spotting the shift towards new age philosophies the world over. ''Today, health and well-being are sexy. Moksha combines the facilities of a traditional health club with the best the new age has to offer. It is also the ideal place to meet up and socialise with friends." Now, lead me to lunch. 1 | 2 |
Issue Contents Write to us Subscription Syndication INDIA TODAY | INDIA TODAY PLUS | COMPUTERS TODAY |
TEENS TODAY
© Living Media India Ltd |