As I joined friends to lift the ‘dead body’ of our friend who had died just two hours ago, to hand “it” over to the caretakers, an eerie feeling crept into me, and it lingered in me for quite some time. At that time, our friend went just with the ‘lungi’ he was wearing, and a bed-sheet below and above. That was all that we had sent him with; and today when he was in the coffin, he was dressed up handsomely, with one of his pants, vests, and a cassock. Already we were handing over his body, I noticed that there were very few things in his room; I had been told that some of his things were in the house he had been staying for quite a few years, and so the bare minimum was in the room. A day after his death, when I was looking for his personal photo album, I realized one of his trunks was there and a suitcase with clothes. A cassette player was the only gadget he had.
For a man of 57, he should have been having several times more things; I have heard about some of our friends, and especially diocesan clergy, when they are transferred they required at least a couple of trucks to transport all their belongings. One might ask what sort of things these people carry from place to place as they are transferred. In simple words, all the things that a family requires, those are the very things these people carry. The things include the following : television, mixie-grinder, cassette-players, VCD/DVD players, books, personal files, clothes, speakers, CDs and DVDs, clothes, blankets, bed-sheets. Some, I have been told, also carried their furniture and almirahs. In other words, they carried all they ‘bought’.
I imagined for a moment what are the things I have accumulated over the years, and what would happen if I were to bid goodbye tonight. Do I really need all the things I have in my room? Each one of us has a habit of accumulating things, for some it is books, for some others cassettes or CDs or DVDs, for some clothes, and for some others electronic gadgets… we have our own special interest and try to get all that is possible, not even thinking if we would ever need them in life. This is a psychological compulsion, and very seldom do we pay enough attention to this kind of tendency. If I were to look at carefully at the kind of things that are piled up in my cupboard, I would realize that at least 70 to 80 per cent of the material could be given up easily, without hurting my future.
Most often we collect things with the hope that one day we might require them, but the fact is if I do not require a thing today, probably I may not need it in the future. For instance, collecting electronic gadgets is a compulsion, and there are people who may not be satisfied with one gadget, but may like to have several things to keep their ego satisfied. These are the people who are always on the lookout for new gadgets, and as soon as they hit the market, they are there negotiating the price with the shopkeepers, not realizing that in a few days time the gadget will fill the market and they can get them for a much cheaper price. The same is true with “collectors” of all kinds. Today I need to ask myself, what is my compulsion? What do I take pleasure in collecting or accumulating?
I am overly concerned about my future and feel the need to keep things ready, not trusting in the providence of God. It is for this reason that Jesus has told us not to worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. We need to learn this lesson from birds of the air and lilies of the field. There is yet one more thing that I am invited to do: go through the things that are piled up and clear all that are not required for me. I do understand that many of the things which I may not need, may be needed gravely for someone else. Much of their efficiency might have been lost because they do not have these things, and if alone I can hand these to them, there might be better atmosphere for fraternal sharing; and it is possible someone else might give me something which I am in urgent need of. And that is when we can feel the need of being part of a wider human family.
No comments:
Post a Comment