On a regular walking tour of Delhi with the troupe I am
registered with, I found myself in the company of a novice foreigner once again.
The trip included a visit to a temple...I was about to grasp that elusive peace
of mind when someone prodded my shoulder...’What is this on your forehead
pointing at the tilak?’
‘Err...this is a tilak...the temple priest puts it on
everyones forehead’...I managed to mumble and was proud of the answer but
before I could swell my chest properly in that pride, pat came another query...'why
does he do that?; whats the purpose?’ And that red thread around your
wrist...does it have a meaning—this holy cord?
Huh...purpose? Holy cord? What’s that? My mind reeled under
the pressure to fetch an answer.’ Oh this...isssss to declare to the world that
you attended a Hindu ceremony or visited a temple...a sort of attendance record’.
: / Why me I cursed!...
I am sure that these are not the correct explanations to
things I explained about...nonetheless, it was some response at least.
On another occasion, a visit to the Yamuna banks, as a part
of another trip, the leader of the group, a historian of repute was elaborating
on ‘ghats’ and their religious relevance to the Hindus. All of a sudden a visibly
upset trouper remarked...'why is that person watering the water? (animatedly)’,
pointing at a person paying his watery tribute to the Sun, standing half deep
into the river. The apparaently flabberghasted speaker managed to give an apt reply...the
manner of praying to the Sun God to invoke His blessings and all that...I
wondered in muted silence if we Indians would display such refined curiosity at
the goings on in their culture and mores. Whether our interest in their
culture, places and practices, if at all it exists, manifests itself only in
the form of photographs promptly posted in facebook and instagram.
(The same person, btw, upon visiting the Rajghat had another
question, ‘why is Rajghat not a ghat?’Ofcourse, the leader, being a historian
managed more than an apt reply.)
Meanwhile, a small child accompanying the person was hungry.
Upon being suggested to open the Mars Bar from his bag, he refused point
blank...’but dad there is no trash bin here, (his eyes wide as saucers, as if
he had been asked to take the forbidden fruit, committ a ghastly sin) where
will I throw the wrapper’. The idea of keeping the wrapper back in the bag was
clearly alien and did not appeal to him at all.
Wow! I thought....back in my mind emerged a picture of a pot-bellied
lalaji chiding his child and telling him the virtues of remaining clean and
hygienic and wiping the mouth properly after eating golgappas—and then throwing
the napkin on the roadside.
Wow!
PS: I staunchly believe in the power of time. There is a
time for everything...and destiny has something to do with it. So, this piece
which had been brewing in my mind for the past 10 years finds expression
today...today is the time for it. Take it away then...comments are invited
