My mother makes sure to remind me of her sentiments on life and dharma (duty) on a rather consistent bi-weekly basis. Basically, she is trying to tell me that she wants me to be the next Mother Theresa. Furthermore, she is absolutely convinced it is going to happen—she has lots of faith. Thus, when there was a presentation at temple about a social service program which was doing work in rural India, I felt it was the opportunity of a lifetime which would be a perfect place for me to start my chrysalis towards becoming the most compassionate being in the world.
Convincing my parents to let me go was not too difficult: my mother was ready from the beginning, and the work was in India, our motherland, so my father could not say no to aiding kindred souls. Promptly, it was agreed that my father and I would go to Sidhbari, India over the approaching summer break to work with the Chinmaya Organization of Rural Development (CORD), a program affiliated with my
temple. I would be working with villagers living in extreme cases of poverty, in the far rural reaches of India. As the arrangements were being made, I eagerly looked over the lists of what to take there. I excitedly packed up my precious stuffed animal collection, and the hundreds of brightly colored pencils I had amassed over the years. I even spent hours making pretty little knot bracelets. It would be simple like I had seen in those documentaries: I would spend time with the kids and give them toys and goods; they would be happy and life would eventually work out. My compassion and love were all that was needed to fix the world. I was confident and mentally prepared for my first saintly deed—it was no biggie.That is how I boarded the plane on June 6th, 2007, journal in hand, ready to document my trip. On a side note, part of the bargain of letting me go was that I would keep a daily journal or write a paper about my trip to compensate for not doing a lame summer internship or attending some hollow “leadership” summer camp. Well, that never really happened; all I wrote down in that black and white polka-dotted journal was a list of the names of people I met during the trip who I felt made an impact on my life. While it was enough for me, it was not really descriptive enough for my mom. So, here it is, Mom—this one is for you.
Arriving in India is always a bit of a culture shock: it is like being
translocated to the birthplace of chaos. The massive amounts of people. The swerving traffic. The intense heat and the sweet, dusty smell—it all hits at once. Needless to say, after the grueling twenty-one hours of plane flight and the sleepless night on the train, I was an anxious mess and was not looking forward to the three hour motion sickness-inducing drive through the mountainous region. However, my anxieties subsided when the taxi driver arrived.
As strange as this may sound, Sonu was the most compassionate driver I had ever met. Just like his name (sonu
means gold), he had a smile of gold: it started with the upward curl of his lips and extended into the depths of his luminous eyes. His smile personified warmth and caring – and most importantly – a genuine interest. As we journeyed to the foothills of the Himalayas, Sonu kept us captivated and excited to be there with his sprightly manners, all while taking special care to drive like a million dollar chauffeur. He had a true passion for his job: he strived to be the best possible driver by showing genuine interest in his passengers. Sonu tried his best to communicate through his broken English; but when he could say nothing else, he just looked back in the rearview mirror and flashed that ever-comforting sunshine of a smile. The formerly dreaded drive flew by. Now, as I think back to Sonu, I realize compassion requires taking a genuine interest in others’ and working to make them feel comfortable.Thus, we soon arrived at the magnificently landscaped ashram – a Hindu place of religious study equivalent to a Buddhist monastery – ready to settle in. When the director of the ashram welcomed us, I did not realize how much I would come to appreciate the fact that he spoke in English. As we attended dinner later that evening, I quickly became aware of the fact that I could only understand a tenth of what anybody was saying, as they were all speaking in Hindi. How I wished I could say the magic word and instantly know Hindi. The next day, as I explored the place where I was to be performing my saintly deeds for the coming two weeks, the prospects of me talking to anybody for that time period swiftly vanished from slim to none; at CORD most people spoke Pahadi, a wickedly twisted, faster version of Hindi. How was I ever to connect with and better the lives of people whom I could not even sustain more than a five minute conversation with? All of my hopes of being the next Mother Teresa were sufficiently dashed.
Right at that moment, the heavens sent a blessing galloping in: my sunshine to clear up the clouds arrived in the form of three-year-old Krishna, who perhaps not-so-coincidentally even bears the names of one of my favorite deities. As he attacked the guide showing me around with a flurry of hugs and playful punches, she explained how little Krishna had already undergone three major surgeries in an attempt to heal his awkwardly twisted leg. He glanced over, noticing me the stranger, and I, not knowing what else to do, gave him a Sonu-esque smile which had previously comforted me. That was the trick! Krishna energetically hobbled over and began to use my hand as a doodling pad for the pen he had just found. At that moment, I was struck by the magical effectiveness of a simple smile. Smiling. It dawned on me: this is the language of happiness, love and peace. The language that everybody understands and speaks. As Mother Teresa said, “Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. ” It breaks barriers otherwise unbreakable and makes connections in the most unassuming places. Through my lesson learned from Krishna, I made many fast friends, and even though many times unable to technically communicate, I was able to share my joy, love and compassion.
As I spent more time
with Krishna, I had to attend his physical therapy sessions with him. Though it was excruciatingly painful to watch, and as desperately as I wanted to let him skip out as he begged to do every time, I knew I had to be patient and stand firm. As I saw so many examples of at CORD, compassion also requires a tough, solid aspect. There were mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous types of classes for the village men who constantly went home as raging, abusive drunks. Though the farmers were not particularly inclined to change how they had farmed all their lives, they had to attend classes about more effective methods of farming. Everybody attended classes on money management. Because the best is desired for everyone, there are times it is understood that while patiently empathizing, it is also necessary to be strict and disciplinary. True compassion is not just being able to sympathize or “suffering together with another” ; for any good to come out of compassion, teaching and guidance is required.
On the other hand, compassion also calls for allowing people to freely express themselves. The villagers being serviced by CORD also had the opportunities to learn a variety of creative skills – whatever they pleased. There was sewing, weaving, and artwork, among many others. The villagers who volunteered to cook could not have been any happier to help prepare the meals. Compassion also allows for people to flourish at what they are good at. It is a form of encouragement, meant to help them move forward and learn about themselves and their capabilities.
For compassion to manifest itself into action effectively, it seems to
require a conglomeration of all positive traits– that probably explains why sincerely compassionate people are so successful in their endeavors. Dr. Kshama Metre, the founder and national director of CORD, is the most compassionate person I have ever had the good honor to meet. Kshama Didi (sister), as she is affectionately called by the villagers, was originally a doctor in the United States with an extremely successful practice. Not satisfied with her life, she had a calling to doctor in the rural villages of India, and thus left her old life behind in the most selfless of actions. Sensing the need for change in the area, she opened CORD and designed the entire system which teaches the villagers how to build their own lives; now, people from villages two hours away make the daily commute in order to go to CORD. A program built so attractively requires a multitude of empathetic conscientiousness of what the people want and need, what they like and dislike. Most of all, an active compassion like Kshama Didi’s, requires a passion fueled by pure love.*****
I am on the plane again,going home this time. As I sit listlessly, I reflect over the experiences I have just had, and the people I have met.
Sonu.
Krishna.
Kshama didi.
The list goes on and on. As the countless faces come up in my mind, I come to a realization: I did not really transform anybody’s life. Sure I gave out the toys and goods, but the people of Sidhbari were already happy people. It was not me helping and teaching them; it was them teaching and helping me. However, in the last two weeks, I have grown enough for this fact not to bother me. Compassion does not just come—it is an acquired capacity, and requires conscientiousness and practice. The best way to learn it is from others who already know it. Keeping that in mind, I searched and found it so nearby, in the people on Sidhbari. I am still learning, but that is just all part of the journey. Once I have fully mastered compassion, acting upon it, like Mother Teresa will come naturally. And there is still time for that.
Here is a video montage of some of Mother Teresa’s quotes. She is an incredible inspiration.
List of Illustrations:
1. “Mother Teresa” http://culture11.com/blogs/credo/wp-content/uploads/image/mother-teresa-1.jpg
2. “Toys” http://blog.mlive.com/watershedwatch/2007/12/large_toys.jpg
3. “Streets of India” http://image30.webshots.com/31/6/86/96/233268696NdUaTw_fs.jpg
4. “Sonu-like smile” http://gallery.photo.net/photo/5409766-md.jpg
5. “Playing with Krishna” From Personal Collection
6. “Therapy with Krishna” From Personal Collection
7. “Sewing Class” From Personal Collection
8. “CORD” http://www.chinmaya.org.nz/images/CORD.jpg
9. “Compassion” http://api.ning.com/files/Ij2-798Cl6ABEO3t0-YwoxJx*WvrIavVBhreKF8LJJkEqCL2d8-HMOu8-dPhpFWEzp0xYI4o6A*EYS74ItEgwUB4E9TQM560/compassion.jpg
Video:
“Mother Teresa's words of Love” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c41sflWxWus
Word Count without quotes: 1,776
Word Count with quotes: 1,799
Blogsite URL: http://kajalm-worldliterature-e603.blogspot.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment