As a lifelong teetotaler, I have yet to find a human whose company is improved by drinking alcohol. Conversational lucidity, impulse control, propriety, and even basic motor skills are all wont to suffer under its influence. If consuming alcohol is held to boost sociability, evidently this effect does not extend to nearby non-drinkers. At its most seemingly innocuous, drink appears to unleash a spirit of relaxation bordering on frivolity. Yet when allowed to become dominant within an individual or a social gathering, the time for sound judgement and responsible decision-making is passed. Laying aside the supposed benefits of drinking, it is worth stating that not all human inhibitions ought to be lowered. We do ourselves no favors by temporarily impairing our rational faculties while giving uncouthness, lechery, wrath, and sentimentality freer play. 

‘Fanaticism!’ our more bibulous brethren might cry. ‘Surely you do not mean to condemn all drink in defiance of all ages past. Are not all things permitted in moderation?’ Poison, in moderation, remains poison, no matter how venerable its precedent. Of course, my point here is not to sit in censorious judgement of the world, but rather to reflect on the rejection of spirits within GurSikh tradition. At the heart of this rejection is a recognition of the considerable power alcohol possesses and the affirmation of a far higher good whose attainment the consumption of alcohol hinders. Let us then consider the underlying rationale and its consonance with the overall GurSikh worldview. 

It is noteworthy—if perhaps under-remarked upon for its sheer orthodoxy—that references to the act of drinking and the experience of intoxication recur frequently across Srī Gurū Granth Sāhib. Yet it is Nām Rasu and Amrit Bāṇī that Gurū Nanak exhorts us to imbibe if we would partake of the intoxication of the One’s eternal love (SGGS:360). Across the world’s religious traditions, it is not uncommon for the mystics to invoke the imagery of intoxication and the union of man and wife to speak of the highest states of spiritual experience. If the usage of the mystics acknowledges the power of these heightened activities, it is a far cry from a blanket endorsement of inebriation and carnal relations. Rather, the witness of the mystics ought to alert us to the true significance of these experiences and inspire us to seek their ultimate referent.

In the same Sabad, Gurū Nanak sets up a distinction between trading in Amrit (nectar) and the love of madi (wine), rhetorically asking how those who engage in the former could experience the latter. There is then more than a figurative connection between the two: dealing in the true intoxicant precludes caring for worldly spirits. Why might this be the case? At least three interrelated reasons come to mind. First, it may be that the consumption of worldly spirits dissipates one’s consciousness such that it is directly at cross-purposes with earning spiritual profit. Next, this is arguably a case of  volition’s education”, where experience of the actual obviates all desire for the ersatz. Finally, what appears choiceworthy in worldly intoxication may be more perfectly realized in its spiritual counterpart.

This final point bears further analysis because of the light it may shed on the phenomenon of addiction. Unlikely as it may seem, there are two notable commonalities uniting the tippler and the sage. In the first place, both perceive the unbearableness of ordinary consciousness. Secondly, both take action in the hope of alleviating their suffering. The crucial distinction lies in the quality of their respective strategies: the tippler seeks perfect oblivion where the sage seeks perfect awareness. Even if it is not escape but heightened connection to others that the tippler seeks, drinking copiously unleashes subterranean appetites—often of a rather selfish nature—rather than alleviating our fundamental perception of alienation from ourselves, our Maker, and all creation. 

In light of intoxication’s aforementioned power, it may provide some respite from the contingent fragmentariness of unregenerate consciousness. Yet because this alteration of consciousness is brought about by means of an external substance, one becomes dependent upon it for quieting the disorder within.  Incapable of addressing the underlying problem while simultaneously dulling our awareness of its gravity, it allows our condition to worsen while diminishing our capacity to address it. Aptly, Gurbāṇī often pairs madi with māiā (illusion, unreality), since the consumption of wine can induce soothing mental states that do not have their bearing in the reality of one’s true condition. Escapism into unreality is incompatible with the courage demanded of the GurSikh, and arguably, with human dignity more generally.

Perfect accountability to self, Maker, and creation in all things is the aim of the GurSikh. Moment-to-moment, the GurSikh must ask him or herself, ‘am I fully present to bear witness to the wondrous doing of the One who fashioned me, fully prepared to serve the cause of universal justice?’ GurSikhī is a lifelong vocation, and the GurSikh’s dastār (turban) is a public declaration of the sovereignty that arises when one is prepared to sacrifice everything one has for the sake of righteousness. Indulging in intoxicating beverages is antithetical to the GurSikh commitment to perfect accountability. Our most inveterately crapulous comrades might still assert that especially so demanding a life project would be well-served every now and again by periods of relaxation, perhaps facilitated by a glass of wine. 

Yet the GurSikh who has tasted of Amrit Bāṇī cannot be swayed by such siren song. She knows she will not ease her journey by adding to her load, and so strides resolutely forward, above temptation, both feet planted solidly on her Gurū’s path. She regrets nothing and marches on, clear in her objective and confident in her abilities. As she proceeds, she becomes aware of a song of “surpassing wonder”. It emanates from all around her, yet there are no instruments to be seen. ‘The jeweled melodies and their enchanted families have arrived to sing the Sabad.’ A smile dawns across her face: she only just realized that she, too, is singing and has been singing all along. 

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Nihal Singh