Name the Devil!

Let me acknowledge I am notorious for not remembering names, even of people who had been interacting with me for days and months. And to be frank, I don't make any serious effort to remember names of peoples. And what is strange, I can remember the names of some people, without any effort, even after our first meeting, I know the name of the person, and can remember even after weeks and months. That only shows how my mind works! Surely the mind captures and registers the names of only the persons who really matter to me! Not any Tom, Dick and Harry, or any Mary Kutty, Sonali and Rupali! The mind has its own logic, some times quite queer and wierd, but that is how it works!

I know how important it is to name persons and things. Names represent the person, and his/her identity. To remember the name of a person is to say that I care for him/her, and if I don't or can't remember a person's name, that simply shows that person does not much matter to me (at least in the same way as I matter to him/her)! If naming matters greatly in human relationships, it matters all the more in handling what goes on deep within! A person who can name what goes on deep within, also knows how to manage life, its tough storms and thunder, rain and shine! But it is an art to really name the intricate play of reason and feeling, which incessantly run on the mindscape.

I had said in my earlier blog that fear holds the key to the downfall of many of our dreams, to the destruction of all that we are capable of! When fear takes charge of my being, I become just a victim of all the persons and situations around me, a helpless victim, who has but no control over anything whatsoever. I had also said that one way of overcoming the imposing power of fear, is by recognizing it attempting to cripple my life little by little, and that will lead me to defeat fear! But still one may not be too sure that the fear has left him/her for good. There is a way to make that sure.

If I don't stop with recognizing fear, but attempt to name each one of them, that is where I not only exorcise fear from my inner being, but also remove it from its roots. That is the way to make fear powerless, that is the way to cripple fear, before it cripples me. Most often fear exists in us in a nebulous way, and it is hard to really hold it. The moment when you thought you had caught hold of it, it slips from your hand, and you are caught chasing the wind uselessly. But wait for the fear to approach you, and don't go in search of it! It will knock at your door when you least expect it; if you are prepared to tackle it, then you will catch it before it enters into your room.

Put that label, which best fits the fear that is attempting to overpower you, and stick it on to it, and your job is done. You can then rest in peace, for there is nothing more that you need to do. It works like a magic; fear will depart you the very moment it is named and labelled. By naming it, you have exerted power and control over it, and it cannot chase you any longer. You are the master of the situation now, and it will do your bidding, whatever that may be. From that moment onwards, fear will fear you, and will even run away from you, for fear you should put it to shame. Be bold enough to bid a joyful farewell to fear, for when fear departs from you, the doors of happiness and peace are opened wide for you to enter!

So What?

The man who made history during the last Olympics in Beijing for the maximum number of gold medals for swimming is in trouble. Michael Phelps from the United States of America has been banned in his home nation for three months for photos which showed him smoking a marijuana pipe. Glory and honor are the greatest enemies of humanity; the more one climbs up the ladder, the lower they go in appreciation of the gifts of life and a sense of gratitude to the human family for paving way for them to reach their heights. Phelps was no humble man as he gathered the gold medals and walked out of the podium; at least he didn’t seem to be so. There was a ray of pride and arrogance, that he is on the top of the world was so very evident in each of his facial expressions. The fact that he had beaten his own record during the previous Olympics put him on a higher pedestal. But that is Phelps.

But the fact is the world has its own share of Phelps, and if we look carefully we may find a dozen of them around us, with different names, shapes, goals in life, and identities. There are people who struggle hard to reach certain heights in life, but once they reach the heights, they look down upon the path they had trodden, and the many people who had pushed him up inch by inch. Every one may become irrelevant and immaterial for them, because they have achieved what they wanted, and they think they are the masters of their situations; but unfortunately nature has its own dynamics to bring down the mighty and haughty, at the same pace they had climbed up. If only the high and mighty realize that life is a not a static moment, but a continuum, where we are pushed and pulled according to different currents, and sometimes we might find ourselves helpless victims of circumstances.

Achievement is a curse on humanity; we tend to attribute every good thing that is happening in our lives to personal achievement, to our sweat and blood. Think of the boy who after doing a short errand, gave a slip to his mother, which said she owed one dollar for the errands; and at the end of the day, the mother made a slip for her son, which enlisted the moments she had carried him in her womb, nursed him in his childhood, keeping awake when he was sick, and after adding up the enormous sum, wrote underneath, Paid in full! We tend to look at ourselves, and not beyond our nose, as it were. Behind every personal achievement, we would notice the sweat and toil of many men and women, the sacrifice of several nameless, faceless persons. In fact, it may be right to say that we do not achieve anything to merit. We are given so graciously that we often fail to take them into account.

Giving due credit to the persons who have groomed and shaped us, and even pruned us in time, is no more in practice in this world of competition. If I were to take a sheet of paper and start putting down the names of all the persons who have made my day today, then probably, I need to go in for several sheets of paper. There is an army of persons involved in my wellbeing. It is because the farmers toil in rain and shine, that I am able to enjoy the fruits of their labor in the bread that eat, not to mention the men and women of the bakery who toil to serve afresh at the table. The sales persons who dare the rain and cold winter to reach it in front of my doorstep. It is an endless list that I will end with. Just think of the shirt I wear, how many people are involved in clothing me properly; but have I ever thought of these people, or have I said to myself I bought it for a price, and I don’t need to think of anyone else!

Today I take a few minutes for myself. From the moment when my parents came together and decided to give life to me up to this moment when I am a grown adult, I would like to think of the different persons who have shaped my life, and groomed me. Many of them are no more, and several others have faded away in my memory. But I do remember many of them, who are still afresh. Let me call each one by name, recollect their face, give an offering of smile, and whisper in their ears, Thank you, you have made me. It is true, a good many of the people who are at the disposal of the world, doing all sorts of odd jobs, so that we may enjoy our days, do not even expect us to be grateful; they do not even look for a nod of approval. But should it make me feel indifferent towards their valuable contribution in my life? At our every stepping stone, we can see the toil and sweat of many, and they are the bread and butter of our every success, achievement. I would like to close my eyes and stand in deep respect and gratitude to the world and her glorious children who have made me what I am. (Brussels)

Following the Leader

Sitting among about seven thousand men and women, in a large auditorium in Vatican, Rome, awaiting the arrival of the Roman Pontiff to grant audience to the eager visitors, I had mixed feelings criss-crossing my mind, and for a while I thought the mighty setup which has become the seat of power for the Roman Catholic Church, has not much to offer to the simple people who had come to the Eternal City with so much of love and expectation, than a far away glimpse of the Pope. When the Pope began to address some groups, a few of them out of deep love and admiration shouted Sancta Papa (holy father), and I really wonder if the Pontiff really realized what these people wanted to tell him. Was there any paternal instinct in him, that expressed itself, in response to their loving call? At one moment I thought if the pope had become insensible to the feelings of the thousands of people. In the name of security, the pope had remained far away from the masses, and that pains me.

Yesterday we had the fortune of witnessing the 44th president of the United States of America, Barrack Obama assuming office at the White House, and the countless number of men and women who had gathered to witness this wonderful event had much to contribute to the success of his political career, and it is the masses who had made him what he is now; and rightly he is accountable not only to every American citizen, but as extension to every citizen of the world. He did not mince words in expressing his commitment to rebuilding the world, and in ushering in the reign of truth and justice, and every American citizen’s earnest desire to contribute to the goodness of the world around. Two leaders, and two masses, two vision, and two kinds of response to the masses. No doubt I was touched by the audience, especially when the Pontiff went on addressing the people of different languages in their own languages, tirelessly going on for about one hour and ten minutes. But I could see that there was something amiss at the hall.

One of the biggest differences between these two great leaders is that the president of the USA has been elected by the citizens of the country, and the toil and sweat of thousands have gone in making of this man, and today he is determined to bring to fruition what he had promised during his campaigns, and he has already reiterated his determination to do so in the days to come. That is so very different in the case of the Pontiff, who had been elected by the College of the Cardinals, and it would be very difficult to say if the cardinals had the consent (even in a very remote way) of the people they represented! Granted that the Church is guided by the Holy Spirit, who works at the heart of every person, but unfortunately we have come to consider that the Spirit can inspire one section of the hierarchical church better than the hoi poploi. No wonder, more than sixty per centage of the Catholics of the subcontinent don’t even know the name of their bishops, leave alone the Pope. This is the world we live in, and I feel it hard to believe we still believe in such a world.

I might sound quite critical about the Church I belong to, and the way how things are done. Sometimes I recall to mind the story of Peter and John walking into the Jerusalem temple after the resurrection of the Lord, and the paralytic looking upto them hoping to get a coin or two, and Peter tells him that they did not have neither silver nor gold to offer. But with the power of the name of Jesus, they restored health to the sick. The church is very different; at least the Vatican cannot say that it did not have silver and gold. The wealth that belong to the Vatican can feel millions of hungry stomachs in Africa and Asia, but still we will never dare to raise this question, because we would like to be faithful Christians, who accept the authority of the Vicar of Christ, as flowing from Christ himself. If Peter had walked the streets of Jerusalem, can his successor do the same. Is the Popeomobile a requisite while he visits a poor nation, or he could use the local secure conveyance, and spare the huge expenses involved in transporting the special vehicle!

I would sound heretic if I were to say that the Church today is every Christian, who believe in Christ and follow his footsteps faithfully, and if I believe in Christ and his teachings, sadly, sometimes I am compelled to distance myself from the madding crowds who believe that is what Christ would want of them. I would like to pause for a while, even as I am just a few kilometers from Vatican, and think what Christ wants of his Church today? What sort of leadership would Christ envisage for his successors, those who stand in his place? But before I point my finger at the Pope, let me look deep into myself, and ask how can I be a leader of the people I am sent to. At least there is one indication for sure; if the people I serve can pronounce my name, then I will know that I am close to them; because I know for sure, people will bother to remember the names of only the persons who matter to them, whom they love. And some of them not only write the names of their humble and simple leaders in their hearts, but carve their names in the hearts of everyone they come in touch with, and that is the reward of every sincere leader. (Rome)

Flowing with History

Going through the ancient city of Rome, with all her glory and grandeur, cannot be a mere tourist attraction for a person who looks for life in the midst of lifeless memorabilia of the past. The river Tiber that runs her course almost kissing the everlasting city of Vatican’s St Peter’s Basilica, and the numerous circus (read sports place) of the Roman kings, and the unforgettable catacombs – all these tell one story : story of humanity that lives about 18 centuries back, but whose memory can contribute a lot to the modern generation. Every stone that had gone into the making of these monuments, which today we treasure as opening up vistas in history and archeology, today bear witness to the fact, humanity is here to stay; I am no God to predict that no one can really destroy humanity, but once thing is for sure that the memory of humanity is deeply carved into the heart of the earth, and no season or reason can ever wipe these memories.

Romans have contributed so much to the flowering of human civilization about two millennia ago, and everywhere we go in Rome, we can see it, touch and feel it. We can feel in our bones how history flows into our lives, even when we are quite oblivious of it. Its currents flow high and low, touching the lives of all, people from all walks of life, even those who do not want to be counted part of the pages of history. While going through the catacombs of St Calisto, I was told by the Australian guide that sometimes the catacombs were places where all the underdogs of the society were buried: among those would be victims of infanticide, robbers, barbarians, slaves, hardcore criminals, and the list is virtually endless. All of them found place in the narrow corridors of the secret tombs, and were even remembered by their people; their names were carved on the slabs that sealed their tombs in symbols, and cryptic language. Today it may be hard for us to decipher their identities and know who they really were, except the period of their burial, and in some cases their names; and nothing else. Many of them are for us nameless, faceless individuals, who still belong to the history of our times.

Standing at the magnificent St Peter’s Basilica square for the Pope’s Angelus at 12 noon also gives the similar feeling. More than about ten thousand people thronged at the square, just for a darshan of the pontiff, and to receive his blessings. As he read out his message and greeted the congregation in five different languages, and waved his hands and imparted his blessings on them, what would be these people to him, but tiny dots, assembled far below his bungalow. While I tried to zoom in my digital still camera, it refused to go after a distance, and with the handicam, I could go a little further, but far short of capturing his face, and freeze them to know what he expresses about these crowds which assemble each day, with the hope of having a glance of the man who represents Christ. Nameless, faceless persons still matter to the leaders of the nations, to politicians, and to everyone who think he/she is an asset to this universe.

In fact, everyone who enters into this vast universe and thinks s/he is an indispensable part of the planet or the Milky Way is merely a spec in the ocean; our memories may soon be marred by the tides of time and space. But what part of us lives day after day, year after year, even several centuries after we are gone? Good works? It is hard to say that we may be remembered for our good works after years. We may be imagining too much, if we were to think so. I may then ask myself, what is the role and function of my life in this universe? If my life is but a spec in the vast ocean of time and space, how do I leave my footprints behind? There are people in the society, who move frantically from pillar to post, to find ways and means of leaving their footprints behind in the pages of history; though some succeed to do so, many fail miserably.

Today I would like to bring to my mind all the great men and women who have shaped the world we live in, and take my hats off for them, for making it truly livable. I would also like to remember those simple and ordinary people who in their own way contributed to the world that I behold today – the many people whose name I may not remember, or I might know them only as names and may not have seen them, and pay my humble tribute to them, in the name of the entire universe. Each of them is responsible for the kind of world we enjoy today; if not for them, the world would be quite different. Time holds me today in her hands, and it is my responsibility to make it a better place for those who would come after me to live and cherish every moment they may live in this world. I may be too ambitious if I were to hope to create a beautiful world, without pain and misery, sorrow and despair; that may exist only in the realm of dreams, but it is for me to keep the world as I live today. (Rome)