What to do when, gone to the roof to take your washing off the line, you find it on the ground covered in grime, black fingerprints and white, woolly monkey-hair????
The gits have had a whale of a time playfighting with my underwear... grrr! Okay, granted, I'm not really angry... more just like: OH WHAT TO DO?! Like when a kid does something naughty, and it's 20% frustrating and 80% endearing!
But this episode leads me to contemplate the things one could take forgranted. While I'm happy to be in India, and would not choose to be anywhere else at this point in time, I find myself momentarily appreciating more than usual that land with automatic washing machines and no pesky monkeys, which I usually call home. In fact, that place has so much material comfort...
* Glass on windows - especially when it's 10 degrees outside and you want to bathe!
* Hot water in a tap, or simply running water! (But you learn to love the dodgy immersion heater, honest.)
* Electricity, 24 hours a day!
* Shops having fixed timings, or the 'closed day' being on a fixed day of the week, no matter where you are. Did I mention finding the shop-keeper ready to serve you rather than napping on the floor of his shop?
* Really good pizza!!! :-S
Well, the list goes on... but why bore you with reminders of the material oppulence of the West? It might even give one the wrong idea that I may be of the opinion that those things really matter.
Because when I have all these things, I miss so much of MY India, this other place I also call home. But it is not anything superficial, like the plentiness of vegetarian food, or the natural balance of humans co-existing with nature, that really attracts me.
It is because, as a wise Indian sage once said, 'Western materialism is like a blind man while Indian spirituality is like the lame man: the former has a fit body but cannot see the best way to utilise it, while the latter has all the wisdom available to mankind but not the means to utilise it to its full potential.'
But if we place the one who can see on the shoulders of the one who can walk...?
In India, what we tend to see as strengths (money, power, women, name and fame) are considered the weakness and downfall of a man. I recently heard this story about a village named Satya, meaning Truth. All its inhabitants always told the truth.
Once a traveller came by. He came across one man who owned much property and land. The traveller asked, "How much money do you have in the bank?" The man replied, 7,000 Rupees (100 Euro). The traveller stared in disbelief, but said nothing.
Next he came across a man who was surrounded by his grandchildren. There were ten of them, all between the age of three and six years. "How many children do you have?" asked the traveller. "Only one," replied the old man. Again the traveller stared in disbelief, but said nothing.
Then the traveller came across an old man chanting mantras on his Japa-beads, and asked him, "How old are you?" The man replied, "Only twenty years old, my friend, only twenty years."
The traveller walked away, bewildered. He thought, "This is the village of Satya, yet all its inhabitants seem to be liars!" One man had observed all this, and called him to his side.
"That first man, he has much money but only recently has he offered his first 7,000 Rupees to the Temple for charity, so he considers that that is the only money he has well-invested.
"The second man has nine sons, but only one has become a monk, dedicating his life to the search of God, therefore he considers that that is the only valuable son he has.
"The third man is seventy years old, but only twenty years ago did he take initiation into spiritual practice, therefore he considers his previous fifty years wasted."
This is the sort of fairytale an Indian grandad would tell his grandchildren by the chimney fire on Christmas Eve (assuming that they had a chimney fire and were celebrating Christmas at all), hoping to educate them regarding what really matters in life.
I like to return here, to remember just that, what being human is about.
We all know that money can't buy you love, or life itself. So why place so much importance on that stuff that gets you stuff, or the stuff itself? If we cannot share deep-rooted affection with others, what use is a gift parcelled in a pretty bow?
I feel fortunate to be currently living in a community of people who aspire for these same ideals. This community is home to Indians, yes, but also many Westerners who have experienced how disappointing Western culture can be, blinded by its mountains of things that surround it. The residents of the community aspire to serve the environment, not to exploit it - there is enough of that going on already.
Adjustment to the right angle of vision is what will allow us to perceive Beauty everywhere... to see the monkeys as endearing instead of reaching for the pellet gun (if I had one!) Furthermore, seeing beauty everywhere is what makes a person beautiful, not anything skin-deep.
PS. So I happily live without my washing machine if this is the small price I have to pay...!
Five cute puppies were born to Sundari this season. Sundari was just one of the many skinny, flea-ridden strays, until she wandered into the compound of our community about three years ago. Now she is the only dog in the area that has a name.
But these puppies are fortunate. They will not have to grow to be so tough, I think, while I watch them from my window as they play on a pile of small rocks used by the builders.
