In Search of Perfection

'Murder in the Cathedral' by TS Eliot has several beautiful lines on different aspects of sainthood and destiny. I summarise one of them on saints from memory since I studied this 20 years ago as part of curriculum and am unable to get hold of the book to quote verbatim.

Saints are men who are condemned during their lifetimes;  worshiped after their death; criticised after a few decades; and then completely forgotten.

During that time, for the first time (as I entered the wide world from the smaller one of school), I heard Mahatma Gandhi being criticised (by another lecturer) and these lines struck me as very apt. And I wondered about our deep desire to find perfection in human beings even when we know we are made of malleable clay, changing our shape and colour with the times. But somehow, rules seem to change when we examine others' actions and thoughts.

In recent times, there has been similar mud slinging on Mother Teresa and again the question arises - why?

The question to be asked is, why do we raise people on pedestals in the first place? Why do we need gods and saints, only to tear them to bits and throw them in the dustbin later?

Do we forget who we are, what we are capable of and how limited we are? Do we forget how under stress our own behaviour can change; with maturity, our thoughts ripen; with  circumstances, our emotions transform?

We seek heroes, and then we seek heroes who will be relevant at all times; if the contexts change, their greatness should somehow still be appropriate; but god forbid if they say or do something relevant to context but making them seem like turncoats!

A tall order indeed, but we go through this cycle again and again.

Though not a cricket fan, with so much being thrust on our faces thanks to the IPL scam - to me IPL itself seemed a scam - I see heroes (not saints by any stretch of imagination) again taking a beating - for not speaking, for not saying enough, for not saying the right things...

Why do we forget what and who made them heroes first?

This post is not in defense of those players. But I think, if we pause, we will know that the images of greatness are built in our mind - encouraged by the 'great' people themselves because they were at the right place at the right time saying and doing the right things. Let's leave them there, give them credit for what they did right, and be aware that they can be wrong.

The stress, in my humble opinion, should be on developing our own ability to judge and be detached so that their fall does not bring us tumbling down too. Inspiration and guidance can come from anywhere. Let's be grateful for that and take only the good.

And let's always remember, they are humans too.

Encounter with Elephants

Good from far, far from good

Kabini, 2004 September. A group of cousins with children on a jungle safari. Seeing some deer and boars near the mouth of a river covered with coconut trees, we paused to admire the scenery when a herd of elephants crossed very close to a jeep ahead of us. One of the elephants rushed forward and kicked fallen coconut tree trunk as if trying to score a goal. The boars dispersed in a hurry, getting the signal.

Just as we realised there was a calf in the herd which seemed very restless, the elephant turned
towards the jeep ahead of us, its ears flaring and the trunk straight stiff, trumpeting a warning at us.

The jeep driver slowly reversed and we escaped before the herd turned on us belligerently.

We drove a distance, again scanning the forest for other wild animals when this time we saw a lone male elephant. From fire into frying pan, we realised and escaped before the elephant noticed us or decided to explore the intrusion.

Our cottages faced the Kabini river and on returning from the safari, now a bit more reassured that we were safer, we headed to the river and one of the adults swam with his son also taking a dip.

When we returned a while later, we noticed a board at foot level. "You can swim if you want to, and you may find company" - and images of crocodiles were drawn next to it.

Well, we are living still to tell the tale.

But if we enter their territory, we had better be prepared to play by their rules.

A Lovesong

She curled her gnarled fingers,
In impotent rage
Have you  forgotten me
In my old age?

My once lusty body
And lush green mane,
How you sought me
Night and day!

Caressing me gently
With your breeze and drizzle
And in uncontrolled passion
Swaying me with stormy winds.

Sucking from me
All that you could
You leave me now
Alone in the wood.

Your heat sets me aflame still
My aged body helplessly trills
You blaze in glory and leave me no shade
Where are the cooling winds and the rain?

Let me rest in peace now
Cover me with a wafer of cloud
Be loving, be gentle
Show me that you care still.

The Single Mom

Four to handle, and she was all alone.
Several preying eyes ready to make away with the little ones, though she was the queen of her kingdom.
And the four were handful too, venturing out before their time.
The expression of the tigress as she picked up a vagrant cub just a few days old  and watched another rolling off the rocks to the floor was classic. I was watching a documentary on how tigers live and this moment remains etched in my mind. Some males in the animal world help their mates in rearing their children. But the tigress, the leopardess, the bear - they seem to do it alone. Even a leopard will kill a tiger cub, apparently. So when she goes hunting, the tigress has to make sure they are safely hidden from evil eyes as well as get enough for the demanding mouths.
I was wondering, how easy it would be for her to let out a small growl, enough to scare the cubs and tell them their limits. Just one snap of the jaws and the tiger cub would be reduced to nothing. And yet, she patiently went up and down, picking them up gently and placing them up somewhere safe.
As a parent who draws lines very quickly around her children, that patience was remarkable to watch. Let alone intimidating her children, she didn't even stamp her paw in frustration! Not even when she went hunting after they were slightly older, and the little one mewled (for that's what that roar came out as) to show who was the boss, scaring the prey away.
Motherhood indeed seems worth celebrating when you encounter it in this form.

PS: Snake mothers incubate and then scurry away before the snake babies hatch since they eat their own little ones apparently.

The Great Disconnect

I rarely read the newspapers. I am sure many will agree that it hardly makes for a great start to a day.

But the once in a while reading makes me wonder if there is any difference between the American and the Indian societies any more. When the American shootout happened late last year, raising several questions, India answered with its own volley - the Delhi rape case that rocked the country.

The Americans debated and lost the vote on making acquiring gun difficult. In India, the debate is more complicated. Is making women difficult to acquire the answer?

The good thing is that insensitive police force not withstanding, more such cases are reported. The sad part is that many of the victims seem to have not even crossed the single digit mark!

But the other menace that is equally scary is that of acid throwing. Today's paper has a report of a man in Coimbatore throwing acid on his male colleagues. No doubt, this has nothing to do with disappointed love. What could it be? Feeling humiliated, insulted, sidelined? Some deep-rooted psychological problem? Is acid the equivalent of gun?

Here I am tempted to quote from Vasistha's Yoga by Swami Venkatesananda. Sage Vasistha advises Rama: 'The eternal is not attained by rites and rituals, by pilgrimages nor by wealth; it is to be attained only by the conquest of one's mind, by the cultivation of wisdom. ... All that is good and auspicious flows from self-control.'

American society has been about pursuit of happiness, or rather, pleasures. That society is now in tatters. We have successfully emulated it in all aspects, having made pursuit of wealth and pleasure our main goal. But it has weakened the fabric of the society. Personal goals, desires, aspirations take precedence over everything else - including family and children, who need our care and love to be strong and self-assured. When neglected children with attention seeking behaviour grow up - will they suddenly become mature, confident, contributing individuals?

Let's stop deluding ourselves and introspect. 'Family' and 'sacrifice' have become out of fashion. Either we live with it, come up with alternatives, or go back to the basics.

Here and Now

A chocolate, asked the child
Not now darling, came the reply
Pouting, crying, throwing a tantrum
The best way to have his way

Get me this, get me that
Needs grew with age just like that
No was not an answer to be had
Pouting, crying, tantrum were for that

The needs and demands grew
And though he became older too
The years of practice in that art
Made unlearning not too cool

From simple things his mind moved
To reaching out for the distant moon
Sometimes not in ways too straight
But it was important to have it too

And then one day something tickled
His mind and it was getting pickled
Get me a girl now he said
Or else, the gun in his hand jiggled

All he got was a girl too young
With a sweet tooth and sweet tongue
Chocolate lured her into his den
Yet again he had won.

Hiding 18 Hours

"I was trying to call you and cancel the class. I have a very rushed schedule today," the lady said. Her daughter learns dance from my Guru, and I am filling in for my guru in her absence.

The mother is a homeopath. "I just got back and my husband was insistent that I take her today. But on reaching I had to catch up on my household work." Knowing she belongs to a traditional family, I could well understand how demanding managing a clinic, her eight year old daughter and her home which also housed her in-laws would be.

"I am going to the stadium to watch the IPL match today," the girl said enthusiastically.

"Oh, so you will also have to go back and pack dinner also?" I asked the mother sympathetically.

"No, but I have a Sanskrit class to attend," the mother said. That was unexpected. "It is for her," she pointed to her daughter. "She goes for sloka competitions, so I want to train her properly."

"How do you find the time?" I asked, imagining a day that would already be filled with enough responsibilities.

Indeed, before the end of the evening, I was humbled to have met a person with not only great time management skills but also great sense of social responsibility. In the clinic, she uses what free time she gets to make the envelopes and sources the glue from a slum in Pondicherry - she went there to see for herself and order the quantities so that poor families may get some source of income. She works in slums and especially with girls, educating them about hygiene and sanitation when treating them for other illnesses.


And then, when I told her about my interest in psychology in some context, she enthusiastically replied, "I started doing post graduation in psychology after marriage but discontinued because I was pregnant. Now I am thinking of completing it. I have several books on pyschology and love consumer psychology. I even apply it when dealing with my patients. I will get you some of them." I sat with my mouth open in wonder. And then she ended, "I may be writing the exam to get the degree this year."


"How do you manage it?" I asked her.

"My mother hides 18 hours of her time," the little one chirped in. "She spends 6 hours in the clinic and then slowly takes the remaining time little by little to do the things she likes."

What an apt way to save and use time!