Presence

As I was preparing to go to sleep, I could get the smell of incence, and I just looked through my windows to the pavement, next to our gate, and I could see a few men and women sitting silently near the senior lady who had lost her husband. Occasionally I could hear the crying of women, but for the most part there was absolute silence. And that was the scene when I woke up too. There were some ten to fifteen men and women around the senior lady, and there was no talking, but only empathetic silence. I was wondering what a wonderful way of expressing their empathy for the bereaved family, which perhaps had nothing to offer to the relatives and well-wishers who might have come from far, not even a cup of tea, but they did not seem to mind it.

Death is a moment when life seems to be taking the cruelest form of revenge on humanity. We cannot resist when death knocks at our doors, but be prepared to open wide the doors and let the angel of death lead our dear ones across the shore. The pain and agony that people go through at the death of a senior person, one who has lived the ripe old age, and was making space for the younger ones, is relatively much less in comparison to the young persons who die at the prime of their life, or still worse children dying a premature death. Whatever be our complaints and allegations against the gods, we have no way of undoing what has been predestined. The best that we could offer is to stand by those who have been robbed of their breadwinners, their main support and their sustenance.

It was hard for me to go through the loss of the dear ones, when a close friend of mine lost her father, just in his early fifties. He had his two unmarried daughters, and a son who was barely 10 years old. No one ever thought that he would leave the world so soon; they were not even prepared to believe that he was no more. My friend had lost her loving father, who had supported her all through, even when her mother would scorn and inflict pains on her. I felt there was very little that I could do, but the next moment I realized for the people who are devastated, any little help given them is great; they did not even have the strength and stamina to organize a vehicle to take the body to Bangalore from Chennai where the death took place in a hospital. I stayed with them for four days to provide the much needed consolation for them.

In a tribal society, death in a family is sequel to death in the whole village; all celebrations are cancelled until the impurity is purged; often it could take about one month to forty days. This is another way of showing solidarity and sympathy for the bereaved family. The village community stands with the family which has lost some one, and everyone gathers to bid the final goodbye for the person. It is a wonderful gesture that the young and old gather round the dead person, and when the bone-drowning ceremony (bhandan) is to take place, the villagers offer the favorites of the dead person, including eatables, beeri, cigarette and anything that could be useful for them. I had seen the same thing happening among the burial ceremony of the mainstream society too. Another way of expressing solidarity.

To get back to the Muslim family which had lost the senior member of the family, there is no cooking in the family and it was quite obvious that all the members had been keeping awake all through the night, and when it was morning, I could see some of the ladies lying near our Church; they were all fatigued and still they kept vigil, with the family of the dead person, and I don’t know how long this will continue. There is very little conversation between them, but all the men and women seem to vibrate with one another. Even in their utmost poverty and privation, they seemed to have plenty to offer to the people very much in need of their silent presence by their side. In a world that is being torn apart on the basis of color, caste and creed, the loving presence of neighbors and relatives is soothing for the heavy hearts.

On 'Fast' Track

The lent is round the corner, and there are many who have begun their serious preparations to make the best out of this season of grace. There are some who would do the most ostentatious and outrageous penance for their sins, and some would go to the extent of mortifying themselves foregoing meals, rest, little pleasures of the world in order to feel one with the suffering Christ. It is hard to say where one should stop in these endless pieties and what would be more pleasing to the Lord than these external pieties, which sometimes may not have much congruence with the interior lives of persons.

It is possible to turn all one’s pieties and noble actions to religious intentions and orientations; for instance, skipping a meal (generally the breakfast for some, and for some others both breakfast and supper) is considered as a mark of mortifying one’s body, not yielding to the pleasures of the physical body. The Muslims are known to do the strict fast for 40 days, fasting from sunrise to sun set and I could see some of the Muslim friends and service persons, worn out by middle of the day. Are these pieties voluntary? There is greater danger if they are institutionalized and one feels obliged to practice it, even if s/he has no inclination to it.

It is understood that there are better ways of mortifying oneself, rather than depriving the body of the essential nutrients and sustenance to carry out our responsibilities. I have seen some of my friends, who would fast every day of Lent, but would not have enough strength to do some of the works which may be expected of them. I have realized that if these pieties, which are merely means, become ends in themselves, then they cease to have the meaning and significance they once had. Any piety which does not help a person to live an authentic transformative life, then it is not worth.

I was told that fasting is one of the most common religious austerities that many of the religions of the world recommend to their people. As the people mortify their bodies, their souls are expected to rise above the material world, into a world that brings them together as brothers and sisters of one Father. I have seen my mother fasting every Friday of the year, and even when there are Liturgical festivities, such as Christmas or birthday of a family member, she would still keep the fast. I had tried to explain to her the meaning and significance of fast and still she would not give it up; it is for her a serious act, and it cannot be given up under any circumstances.

We all care for our bodies more than they really deserve. There are people who are too finicky about the care for their bodies, that they would go to ridiculous extent to make sure they present their bodies as if it is a treasure they cannot touch. I remember one of my younger friends, who while undergoing training to become a Jesuit, would rush to the wash basin to wash his hands after every five minutes of the 30 minutes of manual work. He would be spending half his work time, washing his hands, because he could not tolerate dirt and mud on his hand. But if only we realize that the body is but soil, and soil is our body, then we would treat our bodies differently. Yet, there is a spirituality which places the human body as a temple of the Spirit, and that is an altogether different realm.