Good and bad old habits

During the last two years I had been witnessing what it means by the saying ‘old habits die hard’! Probably it would require one to live with an old person to really understand the truth factor of this saying. Living with an 85 year old person for me has not been as painful and problematic as one would think, because the oldie I am living with is psychologically not that old, though physically he is. He still manages his own life without help from anyone; there is no one to help him with his personal program, and what is more, he washes his own clothes (of course on a washing machine), and goes for his customary evening walk, spends quite an amount of time on internet… he knows how to enjoy life, even at this age.

Of course his skin is made in Belgium, that is why at this age, he walks around as if he is just 60; his memory power is still intact, except he has been mixing up months and years, otherwise he has a sharp memory for names of persons. During his 86th birthday, some of his former students had come to wish him with a cake, and the one question which they kept asking him was, how he could remember the names of all the students of the college, though he was only a vice-principal. It used to be said that he would take the group photo of each class, with their names underneath, and learn the names, and during examinations verify their names once again.

But he has his own set of old habits which I would not easily appreciate. When I think of some of his ideas and notions, what comes to my mind quite spontaneously is this : penny wise and pound foolish. He has his own fixated ideas, which seemingly stand for the poor and the have-nots, while his actual life in the house is just the opposite of what he is worried about. He had refused to have a water heated installed in his bathroom, because he thinks that poor people cannot afford one, but his eating habits are just as Belgian as it used to be some sixty years ago, when he reached this city. He has some of the most expensive stuff for his special items, and which poor could afford them! But he would not tell the person-in-charge of purchasing not to purchase them for him.

During the past two years, I have not seen him taking welfare of the other members of the community seriously; if he had all that he is fond of, eating and drinking, then he does not need to bother about anything else. He would be the last person to challenge any person who does wrong; he loves to continue status quo, and would feel agitated when someone begins to question the way things are. He would tell sometimes, oh, I am not used to these things back at home. I was brought up in a situation, where we were not allowed to enter into the kitchens. But back at home, I had even cooked food when my mother was out in the fields… Then it is difficult for him to consider the situations we have come from… Perhaps till his death he would remain a Belgian, and sad, India had not managed to change much of his old habits.

Even at this age, he is attached to labels and portfolios, and would not easily give things up to be managed by younger persons. He loves to be in-charge of several things, and is delighted when people ask for his opinion. Today as I thank God for this senior person, who is much older than my own father (perhaps the age of my own grandfathers), I also would like to pick up a couple of things which can help me on my journey: ever enthusiastic about people and responsibilities, a care for the body (though he is sometimes over cautious about the body), and at the same time I would like to remind myself not to follow his footsteps in continuing certain amount of bias against the ‘natives’, sense of security for self, irrespective of what happens to others… I am sure he is leaving behind a legacy for the world, and I am grateful to God for him!

Man of Different Mettle

Dear Father Ignatius, I am not patient enough to count how many years ago you had left this beautiful world, but I can only say that it was more than 450 years ago, but your memory is still fresh in my mind. Because there is something in me which I can proudly claim to be Ignatian (see how easily you have become a type, like Aristotelian, Hegelian, Marxian…), and the world around me is only happy to see me as belonging to your ‘type’. Sometimes people do frown at me, because there is a trace of idiosyncrasy, and who today is not idiosyncratic, tell me?

But jokes apart, after going through 16 years of training (the world outside calls it grilling, drilling and brain-washing), I could not help become quite similar to you to a certain extent. But I wish I were more like you, so that I can have the fire to enflame everyone I come in touch with. The world today is too lazy, complacent, too nervous to take risk, and too calculative in its moves, too frightened to dream big, too comfortable in their little ghettoes. The world today needs more men who can fight and yet not heed the wounds.

When I first heard how you left the comfort of your cozy life in the palace, the dreamgirl you could have possibly won, after that wretched setting of the knee bones without local anasthesea, I was quite alarmed. How you dared to leave all, and don the sack-clothes of a mendicant! No, it is not possible for me to do the same today; your world was quite different, and in today’s world, I need to count each of my steps, or else I may be down in the gutters.

You had no shame! Thank God for it, you were able to sit in the company of small children and study, and slowly move to heights to even complete your MA in the prestigious University of Paris. You had experienced what a prison life is, having yourself stayed there twice, for the mistakes you did not commit. We are too self-conscious, and safeguard our sanctity as if our lives depend on it. If we are able to drop all shame and dare to walk before God , there can be no better security than this.

I marvel your indomitable courage to even rise up against the mighty empires, kings and popes. And strangely no one ever dared to oppose you, because they all knew you were a man made of a different mettle, and they cannot compete with you. The guts you had made men and women of your times to tremble, and the God you believed in had blessed you with a spirit which cared for no human appreciations and applause. I take my hats off to you, Father Ignatius. If only people can see in me the Lord you so lovingly served all your life, I need no better blessing on your feast day.