Touchstones: Weed out hatred, sow love
Immigration is now a lively topic of sociological and political discussion and at the centre of theories about voting patterns and important policy considerations. Even advanced democracies such as the US, France, Canada and Britain have identified vote banks just as our own political parties have done over the years. However, remember that communities that have been displaced from their native lands may leave their natal territories, but that territory never leaves their hearts and minds. Think of all the people who are forced to move elsewhere to earn a better life or are victims of political unrest in their own country, and you will understand that while many Indians may have left India, India never leaves them. The same is true of Jews, Parsis, Africans, Pakistanis and countless others. Their pain becomes especially poignant when there is a celebration or bereavement in the family and they are unable to go to participate in their family’s rituals. Another occasion is festivals. No matter how much you may enjoy Halloween, Thanksgiving or Christmas and Easter, name me one Indian who doesn’t yearn to eat the special food that was once made on festive occasions ‘back home’, and the joy of bursting crackers and lighting diyas at Diwali.
Some years ago, when visiting my son and his Brazilian wife and children around Dasehra-Diwali, I asked if we could place a few lighted candles at their doorstep. Sorry, I was told, the apartment building would consider that a fire hazard. So, can I at least paint a few feet inviting Laxmi in? Permission was granted and my little granddaughter, Lila, squatted next to me, eagerly watching me do the traditional ritual. She asked me many questions and I told her that the goddess of wealth, Laxmi, steps in wherever she sees these inviting footprints. ‘Who is Laxmi?’ she asked next. So I explained that she is a beautiful goddess who has four arms (her eyes opened wide in disbelief at that), she blesses her worshippers with gold coins and stands on a lotus. By now, Lila could take no more. ‘She stands on a lotus?’ she repeated slowly. Then came her clincher, ‘So how come she doesn’t drown?’
I have to confess, I had no answer.
Myths, rituals and superstition can never really stand ‘woke’ scrutiny, but it appears harder for this new generation of de-racinated Indians to believe so wholeheartedly that our gods came in many shapes and forms, could perform superhuman feats and yet were as dear to us as a beloved aunt or uncle. Children particularly, and those who never went to school, are the most ardent believers in miracles and acts of divine valour because they accept uncritically whatever their grandmothers tell them. Every religion has this quotient of unbelievable myths: Jesus being born to a Virgin Mother, the Prophet flying on a divine horse to heaven or Moses guiding the Jews out of Egypt by parting the seas. As for the fantastic tales that form the religious beliefs of Aboriginal tribes or nature worshippers whose gods are the primal forces of Nature, their wisdom and respect for the natural world goes far beyond the scientific explanations for climate change.
Science has its own place in the modern world, but can we allow individual beliefs, rituals and myths their own place too? The culture that arises from the practice of religious rituals is what has bound the communities of this country together. The most wonderful fact about India was that we all participated joyfully in each other’s festivals. So, whether it was Diwali, Eid, Holi, Baisakhi or Christmas, no one really objected to noise and pollution beyond a point. This is why the violence that has now become a routine backlash from ‘outraged’ communities over food or religious processions, and the provocative slogans that are raised to evoke a reaction from another community are utterly incomprehensible to someone of my generation, where respect for all religious celebrations was promoted and appreciated.
The hostile binaries that define what can and cannot be done must be condemned by every Indian who bemoans the decline of social harmony. Our brand of secularism taught us to respect all religions; it emphasised religious tolerance. How I wish our political leaders would foster brotherhood and respect for individual food habits and ways of worship. Alas, each political party is now guilty of creating discord and rather than practising the kind of bhakti that did not pit the temple against the mosque or the pandit against the maulvi, we have a firm political divide between us and them.
The hardening of religious dogmatic beliefs and the resulting political unrest has destroyed vast swathes of Asia. We need only to look at the pitiful condition of Gaza and the blind promotion of violence against innocent citizens there to understand how religious bigotry begins an unending cycle of hatred and revenge. Is this what we want our country to imitate instead of the non-violence so ardently propagated by our forefathers?
I recall a prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi that Mother Teresa adopted and urge all of you to look it up and ingest that wisdom. It’s too long to quote here but here is how it opens: ‘Lord, make me an instrument of your peace, where there is hatred, let me sow love….’
Diwali greetings to all my readers.
— The writer is a social commentator
