Faith
to Fathom
By: Akhilesh Agarwal
I,
Tom Jones, lowered the tinted windows of the red Pajero to get a clear look at
the soothing daffodil fields that stretched as far as one’s naked eyes could
see: swaying to the breeze and humming a melodious tune of their own. The
afternoon sky was white and cloudless, a dull picture but my trip to India had
been far from dull; it had instead been so refreshing that it felt that I had
been hibernating. But now I felt awakened.
I craned my neck to look at a beautiful pond amidst
the fields which was as clear as sky and calm as my soul and I had just begun
to admire it when I was interrupted by a cough from my driver, Mr. Sahane. Mr.
Sahane was an old and wrinkled man with dark brown eyes and swarthy complexion
and despite his dusty and worn clothes exuded a sense of wisdom and
understanding, as though he knew.
Mr. Sahane began, ‘Saaheb, if it wouldn’t be a problem with you there is a very
magnificent Krishna temple nearby. Would you like to go?’
A little uncomfortable with Mr. Sahane addressing me
as ‘Saaheb’ or ‘Sir’ when he was much
older than me, I told him for the umpteenth time to call me Tom instead. Mr.
Sahane just turned deaf ears.
‘Well, if it’s so ruddy good, why would a bloke want
to miss it?’ I beamed and then seeing the confusion on Mr. Sahane’s face said,
‘Yes. I would be delighted.’
After fifteen minutes of smoke, dust and spectacles
of nature, we were standing at the bottom of the stairs of an enormous white
temple with exquisite marble work and carvings that made a person stand and
stare. How well had Mr. Sahane expounded it: Magnificent!
The marble idols were adorned with
various gold jewelleries on one and every body part. It looked as though the
angels of Heaven had made it their abode. As I forced my eyes away from it, I
was startled. Standing near the idols was a handicapped man with only one hand
and a leg and was fanning the idol with his intact hand. I was disgusted and
repulsed. How could an already suffering person be made to suffer more? How
could anybody be so cruel to make him pain like this!
As Mr. Sahane completed the parikrama of the idol, I immediately asked (okay, I screamed), ‘How
can they do this to him?’ I began pointing to the poor fellow, ‘Don’t they feel
any shame! I am sure it must be some last birth’s bad karma nonsense. It is
ridiculous. Can’t we do anything about it?’ I breathlessly said as I made up my
mind to surely save the man from his suffering.
‘We don’t need to do anything, Saaheb’, he smiled (certainly didn’t
help the frustration that was building inside me!).
‘What do you mean we don’t need to do
anything? Just look at him!’ I said exasperated.
‘Oh, I can certainly see him and what
I see is the intense satisfaction on his face and not his deformities.’
And sure enough when I looked away
from his leprosy and at his face, I was startled yet again. There was bliss
there as if he was not looking at an idol of God but God himself! There was
such devotion on his face, so pure and simple: just like love. Only I realized
that devotion was so much more, it demanded nothing and gave everything, it
sacrificed all its comforts and expected not a penny in return.
‘Well,
I certainly can’t see what is making him so happy. Where is the pleasure?’ I
asked confused.
‘In
small good things.’ He stated and seeing the confusion lines on my forehead
deepen, shook his head and continued, ‘Let me tell you about him. He was a very
rich landlord once but not the oppressive kind. He was loved and respected by
everyone, he was an ideal man. But it is the Rule of Life that when one becomes
too good, one is tested even more harshly. In a terrible car accident, he lost
his whole family: a wife and two oh-so-little children, and also became handicapped.
Instead
of involving himself in self-pity or agony, he came to this temple and here he
says he found peace. Oh, how every human yearns for peace, but in the end, only
the wise attain it.’ He shook his head and coughed again and continued, wiping
his mouth, ‘He distributed his land and manor and decided to become a caretaker
of this place. He calls this his home now and the God his family.’
I
looked away from Mr. Sahane to look at the man again and saw that he was gazing
at me intently. His intense eyes were dark black: like Death or a calm night
sky. He gave a small smile and I smiled back at him. Who said God couldn’t be
found in temples? I had just seen one.
