Going through the ancient city of Rome, with all her glory and grandeur, cannot be a mere tourist attraction for a person who looks for life in the midst of lifeless memorabilia of the past. The river Tiber that runs her course almost kissing the everlasting city of Vatican’s St Peter’s Basilica, and the numerous circus (read sports place) of the Roman kings, and the unforgettable catacombs – all these tell one story : story of humanity that lives about 18 centuries back, but whose memory can contribute a lot to the modern generation. Every stone that had gone into the making of these monuments, which today we treasure as opening up vistas in history and archeology, today bear witness to the fact, humanity is here to stay; I am no God to predict that no one can really destroy humanity, but once thing is for sure that the memory of humanity is deeply carved into the heart of the earth, and no season or reason can ever wipe these memories.
Romans have contributed so much to the flowering of human civilization about two millennia ago, and everywhere we go in Rome, we can see it, touch and feel it. We can feel in our bones how history flows into our lives, even when we are quite oblivious of it. Its currents flow high and low, touching the lives of all, people from all walks of life, even those who do not want to be counted part of the pages of history. While going through the catacombs of St Calisto, I was told by the Australian guide that sometimes the catacombs were places where all the underdogs of the society were buried: among those would be victims of infanticide, robbers, barbarians, slaves, hardcore criminals, and the list is virtually endless. All of them found place in the narrow corridors of the secret tombs, and were even remembered by their people; their names were carved on the slabs that sealed their tombs in symbols, and cryptic language. Today it may be hard for us to decipher their identities and know who they really were, except the period of their burial, and in some cases their names; and nothing else. Many of them are for us nameless, faceless individuals, who still belong to the history of our times.
Standing at the magnificent St Peter’s Basilica square for the Pope’s Angelus at 12 noon also gives the similar feeling. More than about ten thousand people thronged at the square, just for a darshan of the pontiff, and to receive his blessings. As he read out his message and greeted the congregation in five different languages, and waved his hands and imparted his blessings on them, what would be these people to him, but tiny dots, assembled far below his bungalow. While I tried to zoom in my digital still camera, it refused to go after a distance, and with the handicam, I could go a little further, but far short of capturing his face, and freeze them to know what he expresses about these crowds which assemble each day, with the hope of having a glance of the man who represents Christ. Nameless, faceless persons still matter to the leaders of the nations, to politicians, and to everyone who think he/she is an asset to this universe.
In fact, everyone who enters into this vast universe and thinks s/he is an indispensable part of the planet or the Milky Way is merely a spec in the ocean; our memories may soon be marred by the tides of time and space. But what part of us lives day after day, year after year, even several centuries after we are gone? Good works? It is hard to say that we may be remembered for our good works after years. We may be imagining too much, if we were to think so. I may then ask myself, what is the role and function of my life in this universe? If my life is but a spec in the vast ocean of time and space, how do I leave my footprints behind? There are people in the society, who move frantically from pillar to post, to find ways and means of leaving their footprints behind in the pages of history; though some succeed to do so, many fail miserably.
Today I would like to bring to my mind all the great men and women who have shaped the world we live in, and take my hats off for them, for making it truly livable. I would also like to remember those simple and ordinary people who in their own way contributed to the world that I behold today – the many people whose name I may not remember, or I might know them only as names and may not have seen them, and pay my humble tribute to them, in the name of the entire universe. Each of them is responsible for the kind of world we enjoy today; if not for them, the world would be quite different. Time holds me today in her hands, and it is my responsibility to make it a better place for those who would come after me to live and cherish every moment they may live in this world. I may be too ambitious if I were to hope to create a beautiful world, without pain and misery, sorrow and despair; that may exist only in the realm of dreams, but it is for me to keep the world as I live today. (Rome)
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