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.

Engraving Empathy (Lent 2)

One of the best illustrations to explain empathy is ‘to get into another’s shoes’, and that truly means a lot. When we come to the level of empathy, we cannot be mere spectators, outsiders, who have no direct correlation to the people affected. It is not to shed crocodile tears for the suffering, nor is it to condescend on the people who are less fortunate or unfortunate, as the case may be! It refers to climbing down from one’s pedestal to be one with the affected. The word “coming down” has its own significance in the mystery of salvation, and Tagore in one of his beautiful poems from Gitanjali would hark on this image of “coming down”, when he says, “Such is your love, that you came down for us”.

One of the pre-conditions of expressing empathy is that I first of all give up my pedestal, give up my comfort and security, to take part in the insecurity of the other! I cannot hold on to my own security and yet wish to empathize with a suffering brother or sister. Thus to empathize with another person is not a joke, nor is it a casual act of charity I can do at will. There are very few challenging thing in life than to expressing empathy for a known or unknown brother or sister. Empathy is sure to disturb my social security system, my well-chalked out programs, my relationship with others, my good name and honor; everything may go haywire with empathy, but we shall realize at the end that it is all worth the trouble.

When I come down to get into the shoes of another, I am also soaring up in my listening capacity; from being able to listen to my inner Spirit, I am able to “participate” in the inner silence of the other. Beyond the cry, suffering and pain of the other is the inner silence of each person, and in empathy, I allow myself to mingle with the silence of the other. I am rising to a higher level of sensitivity, and experience of the ever Present, the eternal Now! Thus empathy is not a human act, but a call to participate in the divine confluence of stillness, where all tears and sweat find their culmination; where all pain and suffering find their end.

Let me present yet another image to empathy! It is to wear the color glasses of another; I would be seeing the world with his/her eyes; if the world looks green to him, so should it be for me; if the sun looks yellow for him, so should it be for me too. What happens here is something difficult to grasp: I am giving up my personal liberty, will, memory, understanding, in order to become a passive power, which can to tossed, molded by another. I become powerless before the world, when I put on these color glasses, and it is only I who would be able to realize the immense power of being powerless! After all most of world’s most powerful persons were powerless in one way or the other!

One of the greatest tests that the world would present to me, if I venture to empathize with my brothers and sisters, it is the endurance test for empathy! The wax candle which consumes itself in order to shed light cannot last forever; there is a time frame attached to it! There may be occasions when it may be threatened by the breeze from outside or the air from the ceiling fan, but when it allows itself to burn completely and unconditionally, its duty is done. Every test for empathy is a leap in faith in the eternal Being, who alone is the master of the universe, in whose lap all the worlds find existence. Empathy transports me from the human to the divine world! It is a gateway to eternity!

Daring to Cross Boundaries

I have great regards and appreciation for those who cross boundaries – cultural, religious, national, linguistic and ideological, to name a few. For me these are people who are worthy of our praise, because they have crossed the barriers which often keep us within a particular culture, religion or nation, and it would take quite a bit of courage and guts to cross over to the other side. But in this case, the other side is not always proverbial greener part, but the one which invites to fight continuously against the very group of people one belongs to, and that is not always pleasant, as the story of Mahabharata tells us. To fight against one’s own people is the most painful of all battles.

I had decided to join the wedding dinner of this staff of our social center, not because he is known to me intimately or that his family is well-known to me. The main reason I wanted to go and wish the couple is because the couple are starting their life together with a different note. It is not the normal note that all songs begin. I was not aware of the story of this wedding, until one of my young companions today narrated me over the lunch table, and since then my appreciation for the bridegroom has increased manifold. Has he done anything heroic, worthy of such praise? To my mind he mind have done something praise worthy, but for him it might not.

To decide to marry a girl/woman who is already married and separated, for whatsoever reason it may be, one needs to have a lot of courage and determination. At the age of 32, this young man is already fighting a big battle with poverty and privation; with difficulty his mother had managed to get his elder sister married off, and they had to wait for another two years to collect some more money to organize the wedding of this young man, who but gets a meager salary, and his mother is still paid a lump sum amount for looking after our sick and senior fathers. But it is not easy to manage a family with the salary of the mother and son, and at this juncture is the marriage arranged.

Some years ago, when both the boy and the girl joined our social centre for work, they used to tease each other. It is said that the marriage of the girl, at the age of 18, broke soon after because her husband was found to be impotent, and when they were preparing to get separated, her present husband used to tease her that she had married an impotent. But teasing might have soon become a feeling of empathy for her, and later flowered into love. I believe no one can marry another out of sympathy, not even for a higher cause; that would only defeat the very purpose of marriage. I would take my hats off to both of them that their love could travel so far.

But crossing boundaries? The boy is originally a Tamil, and the girl a Bengali; the boy is Catholic and the girl traditional Hindu; the boy is at home with Hindi, while the girl in Bengali. But I believe that true love can break all boundaries; after all, love knows no language, and that is the reason why event the blind, deaf and dumb can love others and experience the love of others. I know one thing for sure, that the more the boundaries one crosses in life, the better will be the joy and happiness in reserve for him/her. Crossing boundaries also makes one strong to face any future challenge and difficulty. Such people are often courageous persons, who do not easily shy away from facing difficulties. Today at the core of my heart, I would like to bless both of them to cross many more boundaries which may come their way to enter into the world of happiness and joy.

Charming Cheers and After

It is not strange that sometimes the most unexpected people could come in our way and make us smile. It is generally not possible for us to imagine that a hardcore drunkard could reach us safely, when we are helpless, and find it hard to find a way. That is what happened to my friend today, and while narrating this incident, all that she could do was have a hearty laughter. But there is nothing strange that a drunkard may be the right person, when we are caught in a tight corner, and find it hard to find a way; for one thing, the drunkards know exactly what they are up to, and maybe more normal under the influence of liquor than otherwise.

We should be extremely careful when we deal with drunkards, because they may not be as oblivious of what is happening around them as we might think them to be. There are many who feign after having a drink, and some others gain enormous amount of guts and courage after a peg or two. There are very few who can really forget the whole world and enter into a world of make-belief where they can realize all their dreams and aspirations. It would be cruel to pull them out of this state forcefully, by any violent means, though I understand what are the things that the drunkards are capable of when drunk.

A few days ago, a close friend of mine, did acknowledge that he committed a socially objectionable act, under the influence of alcohol, and said he should have been more careful not to drink to the point of not realizing what he was doing. That one moment had darkened his entire life, and he had to go through agonizing moments because of the few minutes when he forgot himself and what he was doing. But that is the story with many a drunkard; many begin to regret for ever giving in to alcohol, which had led them to endless troubles and misery. If we look around, we shall find many who would vouch for this.

We often think that those who are under the influence of alcohol are bound to falter in their steps; it is true with amateurs, but not with veterans. There are men and women, who even after half a dozen pegs of hard drink can walk unfalteringly, and speak as if they had not touched wine. In fact, these people enter into a higher level of consciousness, only when they are drunk, and when they are not drunk, they may appear to be in a stupor. A few months, I was sorry to meet my cousin, who was so addicted to wine, that without it, he was violent, abnormal; but as soon as he had a peg, he was calm and quiet, and was even able to joke.

Not all those who drink alcohol are drunkards; quite a many do drink on social gatherings and special occasions, while some others require it, as if it is their staple drink. I have become rather sympathetic towards who are either victims of alcohol or are unable to get out of the clutches of wine, which may slowly ruin their entire lives. But while we do not encourage drunkards to continue drinking, we take our hats off to the “good” drunkards, who can come to our aid daringly and willingly, and rescue us from the stalemate we might otherwise be languishing in. After all, the whole sky is not filled with dark clouds, we may come across a few stray immaculate white ones too.

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!

Children of Chance

The weather forecast for these days has been quite right, and the cold wind seemed to dip day after day, and the cloudy weather added to the woes of the common people, who have no big shelter to protect themselves from the cold wind blowing, especially at the early hours of the day. Those who live in high-rise buildings have nothing much to worry, even if the temperature were to dip to zero and even beyond; they have all the comforts set right to protect themselves from any sort of heat and cold; they cannot be touched by any kind of weather! But I would like to imagine the Ultadanga slum-dwellers who had lost their “hutments” at the fire that broke at midday!

It is said that over 500 families lost not only their shelter, but also all their belongings. Some of them were left to stand and stare at the bellowing of flames, slowly eating up all their possessions, however big or small they are. Now that these people are left to wonder what they could do to get back to life, there are politicians ready to play their cards, throw the sympathy trump cards, and get into the good books of the hapless victims of circumstances. There would be theories which may attribute the fire to the deliberate tactics of certain political parties in order to clear the place at one go. Whatever be the theories, one thing is for sure: these people have been left to huddle with open sky over their heads, and warm themselves with the rags salvaged from ashes!

It is hard to think of these poor slum-dwellers to rise up to new life like the proverbial phoenix; there is one saving factor: they are quite used to these kinds of predicaments; they have seen several such fires, and had begun life anew several times. It has become almost a routine affair for them to keep looking at life with bright eyes, and then let the flames devour their dreams at a time they least expect. This is one thing they do not have much control; to prevent such calamities dawn on their dwellings. They seem to be playing a duel with chance, and there are more chances that they lose the battle, with all the other forces supporting the chances!

Even as 2500 people of the slum struggle to gather whatever has been left behind by the merciful flames, for most of us, the event has not touched us in any way. Our food for three times is assured; the morning coffee and the evening tea will be there, even if the whole world were to collapse! Unless there is a major natural calamity, we are sure that our building is strong and will stand for another 50 years to say the least. What do we need to worry? Many of these people who have lost all their earnings and belongings, may wonder what they will eat before they go to bed; the parents may have to beg food for their children, and their plight may not touch my life in any way!

It is not that I should now rush to handover the food cooked for me to the hungry people; that would not solve the problem in anyway. It may only seem crocodile tears! How am I to express my solidarity with these people, that would make a difference, if not for the people I symbolically care for, but at least for me! It maybe a social-crime to enjoy a cozy evening inside my room well protected from excessive heat and cold, while there are people who do not have a decent place to lay down their heads tonight. Will it be possible for me to do something for them, which may make a difference? Probably there may not be anything which I can do to make a difference, except that I do not forget the faces of these people even as I go to bed with full-stomach, after having a warm bath! If I carry them in my mind at least for a while during the day, it will have its own impact and repercussion!