Care for the World

There is so much of noise at Capenhapen, where the world leaders have assembled to take stock of saving the world; suddenly there is a great concern shown by all nations to salvage the earth before it perishes, and there is a tendency to start the age-old blame game, and very few honest nations daring to own up their own responsibility for making the world what it is today. In fact, the common persons on the road are quite oblivious about what is happening to the world; as one walks on the main roads of the city, one can come across men and women huddled together, burning old and worn-out tyres and enjoying the warmth they give, without realizing the harm it creates to them. Climate change, unfortunately, is not the concern of the most citizens of the world.

There are different theories which define the future of the earth, if conscientious effort is not made to salvage the earth from destruction. There are also a group of skeptics who believe that the harm created to the earth is irrevocable, and whatever we do may not much change the situation; if we make a conscientious effort, probably we may prevent further damage taking place, but that may not make the situation better for tomorrow. But there are also people on the other side of the camp, who claim that if the whole world make a concerted effort, we may be able to create a better climate, not only geological, but also psychological. And the very fact that most of the nations had come together to take cognizance of the situation is clear sign that it is the major responsibility owned by all.

The Indian prime minister Manmohan Singh had made an impressive and meaningful declaration of what the nation is going to do in black and white to make things better. Towards the end of his appeal to the world community, one like stuck me: the most affected by the climatic changes are the least responsible for them. India, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka had been facing the major backlashes of climatic changes, and it is beyond all doubt that the people who have misused the earth’s resources and morally polluted the earth, wish to hide themselves under the carpet. The hundreds of men and women who slowly lose their fields, homes due to rise in sea water, cyclonic waves creating havoc in coastal areas, tsunami’s threatening to wipe away human race from coastal regions… the South Asia has been a major victim, and the nations who are responsible feel it is not entirely their business to do something about it.

It is alright for the nations to thrash the things over the table, but it is time for each one in the world to ask himself/herself : what can I do, on my personal capacity, to help shape a better world for tomorrow? Our tomorrow depends on our today, and until every person is involved in this global mission, after about 20 years, we may not be there to discuss the issue, nor find more than half the human population. Probably the slogan that should go rounds today in all our social gatherings is : ACT NOW! We do not need to do great things to make the world a better place for our posterity; small things matter, and we do not need to wait for someone to start the ball rolling. We could start here and now.

What am I doing today which may help ‘heal the world, make it a better place’, to borrow a phrase from that famous song! The emission level is said to be increasing at alarming speed, and I make it a point to walk as much as possible, instead of adding to the carbon di oxide emission. Being conscious of energy consumption is another area, where I keep my eyes and ears open. If I can walk the stairs, I do not require to use the elevator; most often people have the wrong notion that if there are things, they should be used. The tragedy is that we often do not inform people about these things; I have hardly seen any of our coworkers walking the stairs; even the sweeper and newspaper man would automatically go in to take the lift. I wish all families and institutions make it a point to abstain from the use of electricity or motor vehicles periordically, and teach children to do the same. These are some of the things that all of us can do easily.

Divine Hospitality

I believe in the beautiful little Sanskrit sloka, which says, athito devo bhava, i.e. guests are like gods, and as and when possible try to show that in action. To make the strangers comfortable in our company is no mean feat; especially when the resources to really provide for the guests are limited, to cheer them up despite the scarcity is an art in itself; after all, what a stranger would expect in a new place is not the comfort of a cozy room, a royal banquet and men and women standing to serve them, but the comfort of a home away from home. Probably that is the real test of hospitality – when the stranger is able to feel at home, take liberty to stretch out and enjoy a cup of coffee or tea, and relax! Another allied test which I feel is equally important is, if the guest is able to sleep well! If someone is going to have nightmares in the middle of the night, probably there might have been amiss in the hospitality.

There are men and women when placed as hosts may go out of their way to make their guests comfortable; we also come across people who would keep a little distance, showing the guest room and getting rid of you with an artificial smile, and a formal “Good night”. One of the truths in the art of hospitality is that the sense of feeling comfortable does not remain with the material arrangements or the ambience which is created by the accessories, but in the human hearts which glow with warmth and genuine interest in the other. Just the presence of some people is enough to put us in a cozy ambience that we may not require anything else.

One of the first lessons of the art of hospitality is the ability to take time off from one’s preoccupations, some of which may be urgent and unavoidable, in order to spend some quality time with the guest who might land up unannounced, and at an odd hour, which may not be suitable to our convenience. The time I am able to give for the unannounced guest is the sign that I care for him/her and value the person as s/he is. If I am not able to give even a little bit of my time for the guest, who might have sought hospitality with me, then the person would think twice before seeking hospitality the next time. However the person who is able to leave all personal preoccupations aside in order to BE with the guests gains more virtues for all generations.

Over the years, I have come across hosts of all sorts, some would keep the dividing line between host and guest markedly clear, and would not dare make the other person feel at home, and there had been others who would pamper you with so much of attention and care that you might feel that it is done in excess. But there is nothing called excess in hospitality, except in the case where one wants to just show off s/he is the best host in the whole world. The people in the villages are experts in the art of extending hospitality to friends and foes; their treatment of guests may not vary greatly to friends and strangers, which would show that humanity has not become insane yet.

Another aspect of the art of hospitality is the warmth with which we invite people to share our lives, not the extraordinary situations, but the daily meals, recreation, study or a quiet evening. If there are some who feel drawn to come to me, to spend some quiet moments, not so much to seek my good counsel or to advise me on an issue or problem, but just to be what s/he is, then I should feel proud to be a welcome host. If about half the humanity still believes in tit-for-tat, then I can expect the same kind of treatment I give to my guests as host from others. Ultimately if I can find a chord which vibrates with the other – the host and the guest – lifting their voices in unison, then we can say that the guests have soared to the heights of gods!

Pleasing Pleasantries

As we grow in age and wisdom, one of the most difficult truths for us to digest is that we are expected to dance according to the tunes of others; that ‘others’ may include anyone significant or insignificant, and they stand and stare at us at every unexpected corner of our life, and it is they who make our life quite miserable, if not unbearable. The funny side of this ‘drama’ is that we are expected to change our masks according to the kind of persons who expect and demand from us a particular kind of response, or a ‘performance’ to continue the analogy. Half our lives are spent changing the masks, coloring the glasses, and learning steps to please everyone around us. In the bargain, we fail to live life as it comes to us with a thousand hues and fragrance. When we realize what life is, it might be too late.

I don’t know from where we learn to cultivate the art of ‘pleasing’ everyone who matters in our society. As we join the primary school at the age of five, we begin to learn the rudiments of this art; when the teacher keeps an eye, we behave well, and as soon as the teacher moves to the other side, we begin to show our true color. So we learn to smile when the teacher turns to us, and frown at her back. We do the same at home too; and slowly we begin to say what pleases others. But you may ask me, is it wrong to please others? Of course, no. Sometimes it is possible our natural behavior or response may delight others, and that is a great gift. But if we begin to make people happy, going out of our way, bending our natural inborn qualities, that needs to be questioned.

But the paradox of the drama is that often we communicate to the people just the opposite message than the one we wish them to have about us. When a young lady refuses to meet a man she likes and loves at the railway station, as she embarks on a journey, just because she is afraid someone might catch her with the man, and spread rumors about her personality and character, that only shows that she is obsessed with her good name! But what is this ‘good name’ imply? The very people who may praise her for her serious dealings with men, will also soon accuse her for being so cold and indifferent towards human relationships. Ultimately we all need to learn the lesson that we cannot dance to the tune of others for too long.

While trying to please others, we may lose our peace and sanity, and live in a fool’s paradise, thinking that others have such a noble opinion about us; but the opinions of the people about me can change within moments. After all, how long can we live our lives for others? When we are confronted with the bitter reality, that all our efforts to please others is in vain, then we may begin to live our lives fully and wholly, irrespective of what others think and say about us. That is when we may have the real satisfaction of savoring life in its natural form. It is then that we may be able to see the blue sky and be absorbed by it; we may listen to the song of the bird and forget the worldly worries, the scent of the commonplace flower may take us to another world, far beyond human imagination.

The sooner we realize the need to stop playing to the tune of others, the better it is for us, to really appreciate what life can offer to us. Millions of people who lived lives for others for several decades had not achieved anything more than an animal; such a life is not worth living. The moment I begin to live my life irrespective of others, my friends, relatives, my associates, I own my life as it unfolds before me, and there cannot be anyone coming between me and my life. It is between me and my life; it is very personal and sacred; I cannot allow anyone, however close they may be, to come between me and my life. It is then that I can drown all the masks I had been making all my years, and face life and reality with my naked eye, and present to the world my naked body, as I entered into the world.

Seeking Self

I am selfish, and let me not pretend that I am selfless, because it would not take more than a minute of dealing with me to realize how selfish I am, and I do not feel bad about it at all. In fact, this is one thing which is so very common to all of human race, big and small, young and old, men and women. Maybe selfishness is the trademark of humanity, and if you don’t believe in it, all that you need to do is to put the person in a situation where there is a need to struggle for survival. To fulfill one’s personal need is the primary concern of every person; the safeguard and protect one’s body, mind, spirit, and the security of one’s future, all form part of that search for one’s survival in the midst of decay and death, and how can I be exempted from this rule of life?

It may sound non-sense, but one has to constantly defend one’s position, even to the extent of justifying one’s wrongdoings and crimes, in order to strengthen his/her own survival. There are not too many takers for the new law of die-to-live rule of Jesus, and even most of his disciples may think twice to apply this golden rule to their personal lives. But that is how the world operates, and all those who would stand against the world may have to feel the wrath of untimely death or prolonged agony. But if that be the case, am I not constantly fighting with the world to protect my own skin, even if I had exhibited my meanness and hardcore selfishness through daily actions? To acknowledge one’s defeat and mistakes is sure to cast a shadow on every tomorrow, and affect my future days.

True awakening can take place in me only when I begin to become conscious of the rottenness that I have landed myself into, and feel an urgent necessity to get out of the rut. Until I get the stench filling my entire body and mind, I may not feel the necessity to own up what I truly am. In such a situation, I may not like anyone else to remind me what kind of person I am; in fact, when someone else might try to instruct me who I truly am, my spontaneous reaction may be to protect myself in public, even if I am ready to acknowledge my commissions and omissions in private. Transformation can take place only when the awakened mind can vouch to turn a new leaf.

But the world is blessed with more than its own share of people who are professional “naggers”, who can quicken the untimely death of normal, sane people, and such a kind of people are not easy to live with. We also come across people who can play the role of catalysts to quicken the process of awakening and the subsequent transformation, and the voice of such people can hardly be heard, because in their case, more than their lips, their hearts speak louder, and they can effect change in others through their very presence, and may not require to go after people to mend their ways. This only requires that the people who struggle to come to terms with their own ugly selves (in fact, all sane men and women go through this process at some time or other) should have enough time to go through the process.

Behind the virtue of patience with the people who struggle to turn a new leaf, is the greater virtue of compassion; it is this virtue which makes one to look at one’s own image in the other person, as if the other person becomes a mirror to become conscious of one’s own shortcomings. Compassion can smash the hardest hearts, melt the strongest metals, and there is nothing that cannot bend its brow before genuine act of compassion. It is a Godly gift, which cannot be bought or sold, but it has to germinate in our hearts, grow to maturity, and when it is in full bloom, there will be several birds of the air coming to take shelter in its shade! That may be a moment of celebration, when all can rejoice forgetting the narrow selfish boundaries, each one crisscrossing with the personal boundaries of others. That is indeed a moment to celebrate!

Calling convictions to account

I don't really know what had gone wrong with me that there had been a tenor of anger in me for the past few days; I seemed to get angry with anyone for no specific reason. It is not that I was not aware of what had been going on within me for the past few days, but it is not all that easy to put my finger into the exact reason. It is true there had been some of my very close friends who seemed to be rubbing me at the wrong side; the very people whom I thought would stand by me when I am down, turned out to be part of my problem. Just as I raised my voice when we spoke, they wondered what made me to behave in an unusual way (when have I behaved in an usual way? they sometimes ask me)!

One thing for sure, I cannot go on like this for long; I may have to either stop behaving this way, or I may find myself in an asylum (I should be lucky not be chained!). My problem (when no one is there to own up this problem, it is proper that I own this up), if I can recollect well, has its origin when I began to question the convictions of one of my friends. Probably I was trying to touch the very nerve center of my friend, and therefore there was an explosion; it is possible that the explosion did not take place externally, but I felt it deep within me, and I was not prepared for it.

Convictions are the most precious thing I treasure deep within my heart, and very seldom would I dare to compromise with them, for whatever reason, though in the recent years I have become a bit more sober and compromising with them. But still, I feel that the convictions which I had been grooming all these years are my riches, and it is painful when someone questions me about them. But that is precisely what I was placing my fingers, when I questioned my friend about one of her convictions. Maybe I could not accept her conviction as one which I can easily agree to, and so I had to draw myself from the entire scene. That is where it all began.

I tried to show the anger I had on her to others, and at the end of the day, I felt that I had not spared anyone, and many of them were quite innocent. When I do not expect anyone to question my convictions, I found it hard to do the same with others. Is it a sign of my superiority feeling or that I cannot accept others too having convictions, grown out of life's sweet and sour moments. Over the years I have also learned good many lessons, which made me reconsider some of the convictions, which I could not give up under any circumstances. Ultimately, I realize, what is more important is not that I hold the convictions as the Gospel truth, but that I have become a truly human person!

It is hard for me to accept the kind of conviction she holds on to, and I am not going to give it up for my sake either; but one thing is for sure, I am not going to question it. It is the fruit of her life's experiences and it is for her to question them, and it is not my business to do that. I will have to grow in the humility which may remind me that I cannot make others to dance according to my tunes. I may not have the guts to acknowledge what has happened to me actually, but one thing for sure, next time when I hear someone expressing his/her conviction, I will think twice before questioning or refuting them!

The Pavement-Dweller

Every time I cross Allen Park, on my way to St Xavier's College, I cannot miss this young girl sitting on the pavement, sometimes begging, sometimes just sitting and whiling away her time. It is about three months since she is seen around Allen Park; she has as her possession, a worn out polythene bag, containing God knows what. Sometimes I had seen her walking with this bag in hand. I had also seen her merrily singing a song (probably in Hindi), and one tends to think she is out of her head, or else which young girl on earth would dare to live alone on a busy city street. I don't know how she manages to eat her meals and spend her night. Malnutrition had made her but a set of bones and skeleton. But her life too goes on.

She does not seem to disturb anyone, nor demand money from those busy men and women who walk the path incessantly, from morning till night. No one may come to know what made her to resort to Camac Street, one of the busiest city streets, with highlevel business centers, and connecting to the most important street of the city, the Park Street (aka Mother Teresa Sarani)! I dare not think of spending even a single night on a street alone; you cannot be sure what could happen to you - the flesh-monging men prawling around the city at night, the bribe-monging police men on their patrol, the beggars and drug-peddlers seeking some dark corners to experiment with syringes and alumnium foil...

But she does not seem to be bothered about any of these; as I walk past her at about 6 O'clock in the morning, I can see her going to occupy her own place on the pavement. Does she believe in the providence of God, who knows how to feed the birds of the air and clothe the lillies of the field? I feel guilty looking at her, and quite many times, before reaching the place where she sits, I cross to the other side of the road and feel happy I don't need to see the pitiful sight she lives in. But deep within I know something keeps pricking me! These days when it is quite cold at night and early in the morning, these girl is seen with hardly any warm clothes.

My educated and religiously oriented mind begins to question the designs of God - how can God be so cruel to let this girl, who cannot be more than 20 years old, seek asylum on a busy street, with no one to care for her! How can the world be so indifferent and hostile towards her? We all of us want to close our eyes from seeing the bitter reality, which is one of the fruits of human greed and self-centeredness. can we really blame God for what we have made to the world? One of the most horrifying sights in the recent days was, when I could notice her drying her only set of clothes after washing, and herself sitting on the floor with a cloth around her waist, and another cloth on her shoulders! This is reality, and she does not seem to blame anyone for this!

I am not sure if I ever will be able to reach out to her in any way, and assure her that the world cares for her, and that I too am responsible for her plight; I may not have the guts to do anything for her, nor do I really have any "connections" to get her a fair deal from the world and humanity. But my insensitivity and that of those living such cosy and comfortable life cannot close our eyes from the stark reality taking shape each morning and evening. I only know that if not today or tomorrow, at least one day before I reach the grave I may have the guts to reach out to a person struggling with life, and give my hand!

Return to Nature

Technology of medicine has improved so much today that it is very difficult to find a 'normal' person. Even the people who go to the doctor, come home with a host of ailments, which they had never thought of! What is so tragic is that being so very healthy and normal is also considered a major ailment, if not wholly physical, but psychological. There are tests for every imaginable thing, and it is so very easy for the doctors to prescribe half a dozen tests, in order to decipher what could have gone wrong; but gone are the days when the physicians would hold the hand of the patients and would be able to diagnose the disease. But that age seems to have gone.

Unfortunately health care has become a thriving business, where every vulnerable person is a serious casualty; the innocent and illiterate are the most vulnerable groups, who could be taken for a royal ride for the greedy physicians. It is no wonder that many senior people do not like to visit physicians, because of the fear that they would find some ailment or other, and prescribe tests and medicine, which may run into a thousand rupees. I wonder what sort of medicine my grand parents resorted to, and they all lived happily without running to the physicicans to extend their life span.

My maternal grand mother lived beyond 80 years, and I was not sure if she suffered from any major sickness; she never went to get her eyes checked, though after she reached the age of 70, her eye sight weakened, and still she was happy with the poor eye sight, and died so. But today we are forced to make regular medical checkups with physicians from a relatively young age. I tend to believe that this is an epoch of ailments, and according to medical fraternity, there is not a single normal person, and they are included in the list. But the way health care technology is forging ahead that it is bound to wreck the weak and the otherwise healthy.

I had been having slight pain on my left shoulder for quite sometime now, and when I consulted an orthopaedic, he asked me to take an X-ray of the shoulder, and do two blood tests, including one on the sugar. He said that he would be able to decipher what could be the possible problem with my shoulder, only after seeing the X-ray and the blood reports. The consultation fees (rupees 300 for about 5 minutes), and the other tests have cost a lot, and when I go to him again to show the reports, he would again charge me for consultation. I wonder what a poor man or woman would do in such a situation? How many people in today's world can afford such a kind of treatment?

Country medicine is an art which is neglected and forgotten; herbal medicine has long been considered a superstition, and physicians with high-flown degrees do not consider the herbal medicine as a healthy and positive practice. But it is time that we go back to our traditional medical practices; we need to get our grand parents who knew how to find an affordable and even free of cost medicare facilities, which can keep us hale and hearty for many years. There is nothing missing in nature's bounty, which cannot bring healing to any kind of disease or ailment, even if it is the worst kind of diseases the humanity has encountered. All that we need to do is to return to nature, and she will not let us down, for sure!

Mini-Miracles

I had not been a firm believer in miracles, until recently! Perhaps the last two words might have made you think what could have changed my mind! Of late, I had been encountering small miracles, for which I have no explanation. I cannot claim that these miracles had a spectacular effect on me, or the people around me, but they have in one sense changed the way I look at myself, the reality around me, the human society with whom I constantly rub shoulders, and the power beyond me! What happens quite frequently these days may be termed by a skeptic as ‘pleasant surprises’, but for me they are mini-miracles, which point me to a power beyond human reach, and yet so close to us!

Maybe it would be clearer if I narrate what happened this evening. I had a wrist watch (a Japan made, Casio brand), which is available on the footpaths of the city for rupees 60. But the one I have, has a story: When I was asked to carry a camera bag to India from Rome in Italy, as I checked the contents in the bag, I found the watch sans strap. It looked good to me, and so after reaching home, I got it repaired, got a strap, paying the amount for which I could have bought a new one; but I knew it was used by one of the Jesuit companions many years ago, and I was privileged to wear it now.

Coming back to the original story, the connecting pin of the watch had fallen, and I had to get a new hook. Some days ago, the hook had fallen in the house, and so I could not use it for about two weeks. I had taken the watch to get a hook fixed on it to one of the shops. The shop keeper, after fixing a hook, asked me where the supporting ring was, and I told him that might have fallen. He looked for a similar black color ring, but he could not find one. After about ten minutes of searching for it, he gave up hope and told me to look for it somewhere else. As I left the shop towards home, something in me said that probably that supportive ring should be in the house, maybe in my room. This was not a fleeting feeling, but it was almost a surety. I was almost sure that it was there at home, maybe in my bag!

After reaching home, I went to my room, poured out the contents of my ‘reporting bag’ (as one of my friends had named it), and initially I could not find what I was looking for. When there were only the coins left, I found in their midst the black supportive ring, and what a surprise it was for me to find it back! I had not placed it in the bag, and it is possible that when the connective hook of the strap was lost, the ring might have come out of the strap and remained there. But to get it back after about a month, was not a simple thing. It was a miracle to find such a tiny thing, in the midst of so many big things.

Today one thing became clear for me: there are so many miracles taking place in and around me all the time, but most of the time I am not aware of them, and am not conscious of them. If only I take note of them, then they are sure to affect me, and even change me. Caught between worldly worries and preoccupations, I have failed look around me with eyes wide open; I hear the innumerable noises around me, but fail to listen to the song of the birds, the rumbling of trees, the whistling of the wind… What better grace can I ask of the Almighty today than asking him to open my eyes and ears wide open to take note of the miracles happening each moment of my life, and that they may draw me closer to the Supreme power beyond.

Called to be truly human

Sitting with over sixty men and women in a conference room in St Xavier's College, Kolkata to re-dedicate to the ideals shown and lived by a late Jesuit priest of Belgian origin, gave me a very different kind of feeling; it is hard for me to really identify the feeling, because it always seemed somewhat elusive. A kind of disturbance or inner agitation, or peace and serenity - to put it bluntly it was a bag full of mixed feelings. That is what this great man - Gerard Beckers, who gained a shorter name from his friends and admirers, Babu, really was! He was not an easy man to live with, but the number of men and women who had assembled three years after his death, on his very death anniversary, bore witness to the fact that it was his "difficult" nature, which had left an indelible mark in them, and they are all grateful for that.

I don't know why, but I was not fascinated by Babu during his life-time, but while attending his funeral at the college ground, and later on interacting with the people who had been changed due to him, I felt guilty for not knowing this great soul; I had my own prejudices, many of them even negative! But it had taken me quite a while to realize that often I look at people what they look like, rather than what they really are. Unfortunately the real Babu had always eluded me, even as we had casual talk now and then, and today while listening to the people who had been touched by him, I feel guilty for not knowing him.

If so many men and women had been touched by this man, I was asking myself, why did I not make an attempt to know him? It is possible that I was looking at Babu, and every man and woman who was worth his/her salt, with my own colored glasses, and began to sit in seats of judgement without taking the trouble to know them. If there are not many people who have had great impact on me, it is because I have not allowed others to shake me, knock me, and even toss me! I had been protecting myself too strongly from the influence of others, that I remained just what I was many years ago, and that is something I regret today.

Every tree is shaped by the wind and rain, and it is the strong cyclonic winds and stormy nights which strengthen the trees, and these are the real moments of testing; but I had often refused to undergo these ordeals, keeping myself free from any external influence. If only there are people who could challenge my own narrow-mindedness and even take me to task, I might be quite different today. But as I stand at the mid-point of life, there is a growing fear in me that I am too old to learn any new tricks, and so let my old self live as long as it can, and die a peaceful death! But what would that mean to the world?

Today I would like to resurrect Babu to rise up and challenge me, challenge my mediocrity, half-heartedness, the cozy world that I had woven around me, the company of men and women who have power, security and strength to fight all odds in life! I would like to see Babu taking my hand across a stony and thorny path, barefooted, to let the thorns of the wayside poke me, and make me feel the pain and agony which has become part of reality in the lives of millions of men and women around me. I wish Babu can make me a human, with flesh and blood that are alive to human cry for help! I wish one day I become truly human!