‘The Cost of a Promised Afterlife’ by Priyamvada Mehra: Human cost of cult following

This searing memoir peels back the layers of piety, fear, freedom and deception in modern India. With unflinching honesty, Priyamvada Mehra recounts how her family was ensnared by a self-styled godman, Rampal, and his cult that had saint-poet Kabir as its core — a world that promised salvation but demanded unquestioned submission. Her narrative cuts through the veneer of devotion to reveal the nexus of creed, social power and politics, offering not only a personal story but also a sharp commentary on the societal structures that enable such control.

In a modest, lower middle class home, both her parents lived with polio. When Shalini, the mother, is diagnosed with a tumour, desperation drives the family to Rampal’s ashram called ‘Satlok’ — a supposed sanctuary promising divine healing. Trust in Rampal soon morphs into total surrender. As Shalini’s condition worsens, medical intervention, seen as an interference with the “divine plan”, is refused. Yearning for a miracle, the family loses sight of reason, and almost of life itself.

Priyamvada charts the contours of the Haryana-based cult, revealing the ashram life where Rampal’s guidance subtly hardens into unconditional authority. The followers greet one another with ‘Satsahib’, which translates as ‘True Lord’. Rampal’s world is defined in absolutes: “devotion to him or damnation”. As she observes, “…it was not merely switching deities… it was about something far more insidious: isolation… erosion of autonomy.”

Against this suffocating backdrop, the memoir traces the author’s journey from a child thrust into the cult to becoming an independent working woman carving out her own space.

Her escape is as much about reclaiming personal freedom as it is about confronting the patriarchal mindsets that allow such control to flourish. Yet, her search for freedom is tinged with paradox; in breaking one chain, she unwittingly fastens another:

“We often reach for the familiar, even when we are trying to escape it,” she muses, exposing the persistence of faith even in rebellion.

At the heart of the narrative are two resilient women — mother and daughter — each navigating fidelity and defiance in her own way: Shalini through her surrender, Priyamvada through courageous rebellion. Their parallel struggles illuminate the subtle negotiation between subservience and self-determination, revealing the human cost of such a cult following and the power of personal agency.

The book unfolds through a child’s gaze, enriched by the reflections of her adult self. While the author’s voice is tender and perceptive, allowing readers to feel the psychological grip of the ashram, the language remains simple yet deeply expressive. The mother’s scribbles add a poignant layer of intimacy, turning ‘The Cost of a Promised Afterlife’ into a dialogue between different realities.

The memoir is a piercing reflection on faith itself: its power to redeem, to devastate and to endure. While it exposes how blind belief can dismantle families and corrode relationships, the author resists dismissing faith as mere delusion. Instead, she lays bare its central paradox — the very force that enslaves can also sustain. In traversing the fragile balance between sanctification and dissent, she crafts a story of our times, reminding us that questioning belief does not weaken its hold, but deepens our reckoning with it.

— The reviewer teaches at GGDSD College, Chandigarh