It is Sunday morning and Poonam Madan, 36, an air hostess with British Airways, has a date with God. Cut to Shri Ram Sharnam, one of the many satsang centres in Delhi, where thousands gather every Sunday to chant and pray. Madan, a regular here, sings bhajans with delirious devotion. "I realise I am blessed," she says, tears of joy trickling down her face as the satsang draws to an end.

DELIRIOUS DEVOTION: The dancing devotees at Delhi's ISKCON temple during the shringar aarti (top); an Osho group in meditation

From fashion experts to stock brokers, from professionals to housewives, spirituality is drawing many. Earlier, satsang (literally, the company of the good) was a holier-than-thou activity associated only with the tired, the retired and the disillusioned. In its finest interpretation, Hinduism also has been more of a personal, individual tryst with God, not necessarily a faith based on prayer congregation. But now, religious places, meditation centres and ashrams of various religious orders attract a large number of people, many of them young professionals who refuse to swap their satsang dates for swanky parties.

Among the thousands who fill up satsang halls every week, there is no ignoring the young women with tinted hair, glitter nailpolish and small, beaded bags. Some are in trendy kurtis, others in jeans. Look around and there are enough young men as well, fresh and vibrant in crisp kurta-pyjamas, happily switching off their cell phones so that nothing interrupts their weekly tryst with God. The young look more humble here than they do in any other setting. There is an absence of arrogance and frivolousness that is associated with the GenNext. But it is the 30-plus who stand out. The rough and tumble of life have left discernible marks. Their hands are folded in prayer, there is a smile on their lips but a sense of loss lingers in their eyes. They want a spiritual balm to rethink their position in relationships, jobs and society on the whole.

Spirituality, soul, sanctity. These S-words are now being openly and passionately used. "I felt a strong pull towards satsang after a personal crisis," says Kirpal Mathur, 38, associate professor, National Institute of Fashion Technology, Delhi, who attends the Radha Soami satsang. "I feel most alive during those two hours," she adds. Advocate Jatinder Cheema, 33, also swears by his appointments with God. Cheema attends the Satya Sai Baba satsang every Sunday evening. He has 5,000 others for company. "Satsang is just a mechanism in the quest to realise the God within. Words cannot describe the joy I experience," says Cheema.

It is as if there is a resurgence of the bhakti movement. With shades of renaissance. This devotion does not come packaged with ritualism-here people do not blindly follow the puja and prasad traditions that were earlier associated with religious faith. Instead, there is a fresh wave of inner questioning. Peace is a definite part of the larger search for semblance and synergy with reality. The culture market sparkles with clear reflections. In music shops, the CDs and cassettes of the Gayatri mantra and other divine chants and bhajans have sold in record numbers, overtaking some of the biggest musical blockbusters. Television channels devoted to religion like Sanskar and Aastha have very high early-morning TRPs, sustaining their existence.

SOUL PURPOSE: For these youngsters, the satsangs at ISKCON and Shri Ram Sharnam (below) are not just prayer sessions but the means to momentary nirvana

Whatever the religious loyalties of these noveau seekers of spirituality, they are united by one goal. It is variously described as peace of mind, joy, higher consciousness, personal transformation, karmayoga, self-esteem or at its most banal, reincarnation. As the satsangis sway to a hitherto unknown ecstasy, experiencing both the strength and vulnerability of group catharsis, most of them claim that their lives have changed forever. "It is love. It is longing for your beloved," says a blushing Priya Shivdasani, a 29-year-old who quit her profession as a lawyer to seek "meaning". Shivdasani has found it in her love for the New-Age guru Sri Sri Ravi Shankar.

Many seekers believe in the idea of an unquestioning faith in a living master. Gurus, swamis or mentors, as they are called, are not all Himalayan masters brought up only on divine diets of selfless love, peace and godliness. Some obviously believe in subtle strategies to increase the number of devotees. Others symbolise the modern synergy of science with the sacred. Suave Vedantin Jaya Row of Mumbai's Vedanta Vision is one among them. Clad in a white cotton sari, a cell phone in hand, Row looks every inch a contemporary corporate guru. Born in a family with strong spiritual leanings, she studied microbiology and business management and was working as a marketing manager with a corporate house when she decided to become a full-time Vedantin. "In this age of scientific enquiry and contemplation, the youth needs convincing answers to their questions," she says, adding, "Once you reason with them, they are hooked." Row insists that she does not want to "market" her interpretations of Vedanta, but is quite open to the idea of interacting with the media.

On the other hand, Swami Vishwamitra Mahajan who leads the Shri Ram Sharnam satsang would rather be left alone. A decade ago, Mahajan was an ocularmicrobiologist at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, Delhi, one of the few such specialists in Asia, till he had the "call". "It is divine will that introduces them early to a spiritual life," he says of the young seekers who throng to meet him. "There are many ophthalmologists but the world also needs those who can help people open the inner eye to the divinity within," he says, his face glowing with a bliss that is rarely seen.

An eye-opening experience is exactly how many define their sacred journey as. Some have come seeking peace pills after a personal crisis, others looking for purpose in a life mangled by crazy competitiveness and declining trust in others. "There is greed for name, fame and money spurred by ego, so one has to deal with disillusionment," says Cheema. He explains that having lost his parents at a young age, it is this spiritual connection that has helped him find a balance in life. Dipti Makhija, 17, of Ahmedabad, was drawn to spirituality after a car accident. After her left foot was amputated, the traumatised girl was taken to a Chinmaya Mission satsang by her mother. "I have overcome my suicidal phases and have found hope again," says Makhija, a Class XII student, who now walks with a crutch.

It is not, however, only a bad case of the blues that creates a satsangi. Meenakshi Soni's spiritual connection is, literally, umbilical. "My mother used to come here when she was pregnant and I believe my spiritual quest is preordained in some ways," says the 29-year-old full-time sevak at Ram Sharnam, who gave up everything-her job, disco dances and material pursuits-to devote herself fully to the sect.

Indians have always been spiritual but it is interesting to see how spirituality acquires a different meaning for different generations. Exploring religion through prayer and meditation seems to have become a thought-provoking ideology for the new generation. Most of these young people say they have learnt to integrate their personal and professional lives with their spiritual calling. But some chart out a new path. Like Cheema who stumbled upon social work. "We form teams within our satsang group to clean hospital wards, clear garbage dumps in villages in Delhi and teach the local people to keep their surroundings tidy," he says. Service to humanity is a popular doctrine of these satsang groups. The young members sweep and mop the satsang centres, distribute religious literature, serve drinking water, guard footwear and help the old members find comfortable seating at the bhajans. Karma is no longer a given. And fate is no longer a name given to a ceaseless chain of intertwined causes. Service and sacrifice are something to be "done" and revelled in.

Humbling experiences apart, as Yogesh Mehndiratta, a 33-year-old acoustic engineer and satsang regular, points out, the lilting bhajans are also a major draw for many seekers. "The music is spellbinding," he says, adding that satsang groups attract some of the best bhakti singers. The effect of songs sung to the accompaniment of traditional instruments is instant and enthralling. At Delhi's iskcon temple, after the shringar aarti begins at 7 a.m, people start dancing to drum beats and manjiras with infectious abandon.

If you are a believer almost every path leads to God. For a satsangi, the very act of congregation fosters spiritualism. For the sceptic who has not tried it, satsang could be another promise of nirvana.