Sweet to Sour Story

I have been quite disturbed by the story of a former religious nun taking a Jesuit priest to the court, alleging illegitimate sex, leading to abortion! This news apparently had been entertaining the people of Tamil Nadu for quite some time, the former nun publicly washing her private linen, adding fuel to the fire, and the priest living in underground, in order not to be caught by the public eye, and the ever vigilant journalists and photographers. It would be quite unfair on my part to make any value judgment about this case, since what I know is perhaps just the tip of an iceberg, and a greater part of the truth may be buried for all eternity.

What had transpired the two of them to part ways is something which is unknown to most of us; what had prompted them to seek one of the most cruel forms of punishing in public is also something that most of us cannot think of. I am quite confident that whatever be the present situation, in the beginning there should have been genuine love for each other. Over the days and months that love could have led to greater deepening, ultimately leading to crossing the religious frontiers, to indulge in what is forbidden. I would not contest the idea that the priest and the former nun did not indulge in the most intimate form of human love, but would better leave it without debating about the authenticity of this fact.

One thing that I fail to understand in the entire drama of love between these two persons, where the sweet had turned into sour, within so few years, is my conviction that there should have been genuine love between these two at some time or other during their relationship over the past years. I cannot think that the former nun would have contemplated extorting a huge sum of money as compensation for what he had done to her; there are some people who propose this angle, but my heart says, during a genuine loving relationship this kind of ideas generally do not surface. In that case what had gone wrong in their relationship?

If the former nun had genuine love for the priest, how did she dare to go so far, demanding not only the expulsion of him from the religious congregation, but also a huge sum of money as compensation towards the damage caused to her. It is possible that there are other more dominant angles in the story – one being the caste issue, and another political, but my contention is this : if this lady had true love for him, she could only think of what is good for him; what would make him happy, even if she is disrobed of her religious status, and had to struggle in the unfamiliar world she is thrown into. Has her love for him evaporated then?

I feel sad for the priest, who could think that his love for her had become a public commodity, or worse still a yellow journalism. It is possible we might never come to know the different layers of their relationship, because it is only God who could fathom the hearts of people. While we await the legal procedures to take their own course, it is impossible to condemn anyone; who knows what had forced the former nun to resort to this extreme form of cruelty to the one who had loved her beyond all measure! It could be social or political pressures, or even psychological ones. I would like to remember both of them and place them before the Lord of all consolation that he might bring peace in the hearts of these two in a special way today!

Openness to Life

The young couple from Orissa, who travelled with me from Chennai in the train, looked happy and cheerful; they seemed to care for each other, and listened to songs from one mobile phone. They had too much of luggage, two cardboard cartons, and three other big bags, and was wondering what they were carrying. On the top of the cartons, it read sweets, pastries, but I was not sure if there were something inside. The man should be about thirty, and the lady in her late twenties. It was quite late that I overheard the lady sharing with another senior lady about one thing which had been a matter of concern for her and her husband: two years since their marriage, they were childless.

With expert look and demeanor, the senior lady seemed to have understood the gravity of their problem, and soon jumped in to help them. As I listened to their conversation in Hindi quietly, I came to realize the pathos that was bothering the young couple. While the young man seemed quite indifferent to the topic with the senior lady, his wife was quite enthusiastic to get the help of this senior lady, who hailed from Bihar. The ladies found something common that they went on chirping for quite some time, and at the end of their conversation, the senior lady was kind enough to give the young lady her contact number, and from where they could get medicine to “purify her blood”.

It is hard to tell if the senior lady was really trying to help the young couple, or just trying to show off that she was smarter than the young lady. Something in the appearance of the senior lady looked a little suspicious to me, and I would not trust each of her words as Gospel truth. But for persons who are frantically looking for solutions to the problems which are haunting them night and day, any person who gives them hope of a remedy is a God-sent, and they would believe them blindly, and be prepared to do whatever they may ask, even spending thousands of rupees, just for nothing. The problem is more severe in the case of educated couple, who would do anything possible within their capacity to get the malady reverted.

In the recent past, I had come across another young couple, who also had the same problem, and were meeting every doctor someone said is good. They tried alopathy, ayurvedic, homeopathy, herbal medicine, and yet were not satisfied with the remedies. The problem was with the man, it was found out, low sperm count, and therefore the doctors had to give him medicine to increase the count. Luckily the lady is expecting, and the doctors had informed them that their child would be born sometime in early August. But then they are too careful not to do anything which will deprive them of the child God had given to them.

Every child is a gift of God, and a popular adage says that every time a child is born, it is a proof that God still loves the world. If there are young people who are not able to be open to receive this great gift of God, the problem is not with God, but with our times, which is making us closed to receive children in life. The kind of life style we lead in the present days, does not allow conducive atmosphere physically, mentally and psychologically to receive this gift. We should have a proper disposition to receive any gift, otherwise it would be tantamount to insulting the giver of the gifts. Unfortunately the modern generation has to learn this bitter truth through the hard way.

Streams of Sympathy

It may be hard to believe, but I think sympathy is directly related to selfishness, and to a large extent self-centeredness. I have several examples to illustrate this point. When I am drawn to sympathy towards the urchin begging at the road-side, and I dolling out a five rupees coin, I am not so much giving him anything, rather than giving something to myself. I would have the psychological satisfaction that I was able to share (and it may never dawn to me that what I had done is far from sharing) the little I had! The truck-load of inner satisfaction is worth the five rupees coin! But that is where my sympathy stops!

My friend still feels that she was partially right in expressing her sympathy towards a friend of hers, by allowing him to pour out all his pain and agony to her! It is true that the gentleman needed someone to whom he could disclose his ins and outs, without being careful to edit out the more sensitive episodes, but I feel he was seeking something more than a patient pair of ears! Nor was he seeking mere sympathy, though his self-pity could have mady any one to be sympathetic towards him. It may not be easy for women to read through the thin lines of men, who project something, while meaning something else! That was what I was cautioning my friend to be careful about!

But there is something else about sympathy. I was asking myself, is there any place for sympathy between friends? Where does sympathy really fit in? Friendship, by its very definition, is a relationship which is established based on mutual trust. If there is already trust between two persons, then how can sympathy pop up? Will a friend seek sympathy from his/her friend? We approach friends, only because we trust that person would get into our shoes, and feel with us. Probably even the word 'empathy' may not adequately express what happens between two good, genuine friends. But it is far from self-centered sympathy!

There is yet another angle to the entire story: the young man expected something which my friend refused to offer, and the man was greatly offended and even hurt! A person who wished to pour out his soul to a confidante generally would not expect anything more than unburdening of oneself; what would put a period to his long winding stories could be a sigh of relief that he was able to "throw off" all that had been causing his psychological indigestion! If a person comes with a calculated agenda, and looks for it, and even taking the liberty to demand it, on the basis of friendship, can such a relationship be trusted (however long it had taken to groom it!)?

I am careful if I feel sympathetic towards someone; the chances of making use of those who are in a vulnerable position are heightened, if my psychological need to satisfy my ego is equally blown. It is possible, when we relate to persons, we really do not think about all these, the notions of self-centeredness and sympathy, satisfying the ego, etc. But we will be able to trace the path and find on hind sight that we were not as holy as we thought to be. Ultimately it is not to blame anyone, but to see each one as one really is, without labels and attributes. I have realized that signs of 'sympathy' can switch on the danger light in me, and I am cautioned to go beyond it, towards entering into another's shoes by empathising, and at the same time careful not to breach friendship!

Memories sans Morality

We are back to our memories - one of the most powerful tools that nature has either to revitalise a drooping spirit, or maim an energetic soul. It is a reality that often we have very little control, and memories can be the most precious treasure or the worst enemy of my life, depending on what past has stored for me. We have acknowledged that often in life we are imprisoned by our memories, and feel quite helpless unable to get out of them, however hard we may try. Memories are the last resort one may in order to keep alive something that is lost for ever, and even such memories may slowly fade into oblivion as time passes. In fact, according to psychology, memory is an organism's mental ability to store, retain and recall information, and they would often divide memory into short term and long term memories.

Short-term memory allows one to recall something from several seconds to as long as a minute without rehearsal. Its capacity is also very limited and may even be faulty. By contrast, long-term memory can store much larger quantities of information for potentially unlimited duration (sometimes a whole life span). Here we deal with long-term memories, which last a whole life, and have greater impact on us. We shall not enter into a theoretical analysis of how information or data is transferred from short-term to long-term memory, and how they are slowly solidified and stores, so that we could have access to them at will. But we understand that it is a process that takes place each day, without out being conscious of it, and thank God it is automated, much of our energy is saved for other things.

But let us face it! We cherish every moment of pleasant memories, and wish to run away from the painful memories; we are all too frightened of the painful memories, especially those of the loss of the dear one or that which has caused something very grave in life. Think of a moment when a person was on the jaws of death; or a moment when a young lady has been assaulted physically by a group of strange people; or an instance when one witnessed the gruesome killing of the closest family member by some one known. The very moment we think of the incident or memory, we begin to sweat, and our body immediately reacts naturally and automatically. Our heart beats faster. Sometimes people who have gone through such moments are provided psychological help, basically through counselling to break open the prison walls of the memory.

It is a joy to spend hours together recollecting the joyful moments of the past, but not so with the painful memories. One may gain a lot of strength from re-living the past joyful moments, while one may feel agitated and shaken by the painful memories; one may even be impelled to do something socially unacceptable due to these memories. The consequences at times could be quite tragic and destructive. It is like a room that is full of these moments stacked up deep within me, and at particular moments I hear some strange noise from this room and am frightened. And this may happen over a long stretch of time, and I may be frightened each time to open the room and confront what that noise mean to me.

Memories in themselves are neutral and indifferent, it is I who attribute a certain quality to these memories, as joyful and painful ones. Today I look at the most important memories that strike my mind more often, and look at them objectively without attributing any quality to them. It is only when we attribute qualities as joyful or painful memory that they will have a corresponding reaction on the body. But that is not what we desire for now. Let us look at them as objective reality that I was subjected to. No judgement or no moralization. Just the memory sans morality. Stay with it for as long as I can, even if I have the urge to get out of them and find back my escape routes to find my comfort zones. Let me also realise the unseen, invisible presence of the entire humanity standing by my side to hold me, support me. That is where I may find my way back home!