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THIS ABOVE ALL Both Mother Teresa and Phoolan Devi did things which ensured their names will be remembered for years to come — one for the good deeds she did for the people, the other for looting and killing them. Khushwant Singh Some weeks ago I came across a saying in Hindustani which I keep repeating to myself without really understanding its full implication. Perhaps some of my readers can help me to decipher its meaning.
Touchstones |
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ground zero Raj chengappa Chandrika Kumaratunga, former President of Sri Lanka, may be out of power but her words still carry plenty of weight. I met her at a wedding in Delhi recently and asked her what she thought of the current situation in Sri Lanka. Her answer was succinct: “We may have won the civil war against Tamil separatists but we are losing the battle for peace.”
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THIS ABOVE ALL
Zindgi mein kuchh aisee chaal chalo,/ Jab tum na chal sako,/ Tumharee daastan chaley. (In your life do something which keeps going, even if you are no longer able to walk). The saying can mean different things for different people. Take for example, Mother Teresa and the dacoit Phoolan Devi. Both did things which ensured their names will be remembered for years to come — one for the good deeds she did for the people, the other for looting and killing them. Come to think of it, killers' daastaans are more often used and last longer in comparison to those of do-gooders. I recall a general election when right-wing Hindu political parties put up hoardings bearing such messages: "Indira Gandhi kaisee hai? Phoolan Devi jaisee hai" and "Indira-Phoolan ek samaan, loot liyaa hai Hindustan".
My legacy I am now unable to walk without someone holding my hands to prevent me from stumbling. I have well over 80 books — novels, collection of short stories, biographies, two volumes of History of Sikhs, and translations of Sikh scriptures and Urdu poetry, mainly Ghalib and Iqbal — to my credit. All have sold reasonably well, but sale-wise my collection of jokes has done much better. As a result, I am not taken seriously as I deserved, but as a joker who specialises in lightweight gossip and humour. I find this kind of public opinion very unfair. It hurts me. Harem of six "My husband Uroko returned home from the bar at about 3 am", Mrs Odachi Onoja told reporters in Ugbugbu, Ogbadibo (south eastern Nigeria), "and came into my bedroom as usual. He always preferred to sleep with me, because I am the youngest of his six wives, but this had made his five other wives jealous. They had already had a meeting about it before he came home, and they all burst into my bedroom, armed with sticks and knives, demanding that Uroko have sex with them too. "He reluctantly agreed, and began doing his duty with them. He had intercourse with four of them, but then, as the fifth wife was making her way to the bed, he suddenly stopped breathing. I tried to resuscitate him, but when the other wives saw what had happened, they all ran off laughing into the forest, leaving me with his corpse". The village head, Okpe Odoh, commented, "This is a very sad affair. Uroko Onoja was a wealthy businessman and a philanthropist who contributed positively to the local community. He married the women after becoming rich, but he was too old to satisfy them all properly, and now it seems that he has died trying. The matter has been reported to the police". Courtesy: Private Eye, London Mera Bharat mahan Q: What's unique about India? A: Its borders are easier to cross than its roads. Bra size Written on the T-shirt of a woman in bold print: “Guess?” And beneath it is written in fine print: “Bra size”. Self-scorer An unmarried girl fearing pregnancy went to a gynaecologist for a medical check-up. After examining her, the gynaecologist asked her who was her fiance? "A football player", answered the girl. "Then he has scored a goal", was the reply. What is love Q: What is the relationship between love and sex? A: Sex without love is possible, but love without sex is not possible. Why Indore? Q: How did Indore get its name? A: In old days people of Indore used to remain indoors, so the name Indore. Contributed by KJS Ahluwalia, Amritsar
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Touchstones
On the other hand, turn your gaze now on those who refuse to fade away gracefully. Those tough, mean old cookies who cling to power even when they can hardly speak or stand upright, those who refuse to step down for another generation to take over and those who have to be dragged out of office kicking and screaming. To them, I recommend Shakespeare’s ageless King Lear — the tale of a king who gave away his crown but could not give away the power. In public life or in families, such people become an embarrassment and ultimately lose whatever respect they had among their followers. Several politicians, many captains of industry and sportspersons have goofed on the timing of their exit. Better to leave when you are being begged to stay rather than stay when everyone is waiting for you to call it a day. On a recent visit to Kolkata, I had occasion to speak to several eminent Bengalis who narrated sorrowfully how pathetic Santiniketan has now become. What was once an abode of peace and a sanctuary of the finest intellects has degenerated into an unremarkable university dishing out degrees but no education. It is the same story everywhere: in college after college and institution after institution, we have seen to it that mediocrity reigns supreme. The Age of Information has led to the death of knowledge. Jai Wikipedia and Jai Google! Mother’s memoir Almost 50 years ago, my mother wrote a charming memoir of her years in
Santiniketan, titled Amader Santiniketan. This slim volume that hardly anyone remembers today is written from the perspective of a child and shows us
Tagore, not merely as a great poet and musicologist, but as the inspiration for a whole generation of students who went on to become some of India’s finest artists, writers, filmmakers and performers. I am translating it now, not just as homage to my mother, but as a text that deserves to be prescribed in every schoolchild’s curriculum. In a time when we love to throw stones at our teachers and leaders, it has to be read to discover what a true guru’s role should be. I pity the child who has never known the kind of teacher who moulded a young mind and made a better human being of a student. My mother writes of her first encounter with Tagore thus: ‘The evening shadows were falling and the blood-red earth turned dark as we neared Gurudev’s chair. Dressed in a long black gown, the black cap he wore on his head highlighted his broad forehead and glowing face, and his eyes seemed lit up with an inner light. No wonder the Ashramites considered him the Guru of gurus. And yet, this towering figure was also among the gentlest and kindest of men. His serene and compassionate gaze included everyone in a warm embrace — rich or poor, big or small. All of us, whether we came from India or Japan, or China, or Sri Lanka or wherever — stood every morning before him as children who had come to an enchanted garden. At the morning prayer assembly held every day in front of the ashram library, we met the Buddhist scholar,
Fan-chu, who had come all the way from China as well as Khairuddin, a Muslim student from Sumatra, Susheela from Gujarat, and Kumudini from — what then seemed to us a foreign land —Kerala. All of us stood, with folded hands and closed eyes, as we sang the hymns he had composed. Never once do I remember anyone trying to jostle someone or giggle or push. Such was the respect Gurudev evoked in all of us that whenever we were in his presence, we became better human beings.’
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Delhi is full of retired bureaucrats and has-been politicians who hang about endlessly waiting for another assignment. If only they could hear what is said behind their backs but then, the lust for power is so overwhelming in some that they ignore all hints and well-meaning advice to retire gracefully. Apart from their becoming a pathetic spectacle, this tendency has led to a systemic destruction of some of our finest institutions. Instead of valuing the institution, we value the individual at its helm and because many leaders fail to mentor a successor (out of insecurity or pride), we have too often seen an institution destroyed by its very maker.