The 20th anniversary of Operation Blue Star (storming of the Golden Temple of Amritsar on June 5 and 6*, 1984) brought to mind other man-made tragedies that occurred since India became an independent nation — the assassination of Bapu Gandhi (1948), Indo-Chinese war (1962); Blue Star followed by the assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, followed by the killing of thousands of Sikhs (1984), the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi (1991); demolition of the Babri Masjid followed by the large-scale Hindu-Muslim violence in Maharashtra; attack on the Sabarmati Express at Godhra railway station followed by the pogrom against Muslims in Gujarat. In none of these was the hand of prudence seen as it is in floods, earthquakes and accidents caused by human misjudgment. The tragedies I refer to were motivated by ill-will to settle old scores, or to exploit chauvinistic pride of a particular community in order to build up their leadership.

Several names come immediately to mind: Veer Savarkar for rousing animus against Bapu Gandhi, Krishna Menon for ordering an unprepared army in a war against China in the hope that one quick victory would elevate him to the position of prime-minister-in-waiting, Bhindranwale for disowning his religious heritage and denouncing Hindus for trying to disintegrate the Khalsa panth, Prabhakaran for rousing Tamilian pride against those opposing the Eelam, Bal Thackery for rousing Maharashtrian feelings against non-Maharashtrians and Muslims living in Maharashtra, L.K. Advani for his call for Hindutva and his rath yatra to rebuild a Ram temple, and for being a party to the destruction of the Babri Masjid. There are lesser leaders who continue to use the same language of distrust of minority communities — Murli Manohar Joshi, Uma Bharti, Narendra Modi, Praveen Togadia, Giriraj Kishore, Ashok Singhal and dozens of lesser fry.

It is of no use being too harsh in one’s judgment of them for that will only put their backs up. It is wiser to appeal to their nobler sentiments and plead with them to consider the long-term consequences of their intemperate utterances. They have sizeable numbers of followers ever-ready and willing to do what their leaders tell them. And the poor people of our country pay a heavy price.

As for people like me who never cease to criticize them, this is a special occasion to repeat myself. Everything they say, I regard with suspicion and smell a rat somewhere around. I am reminded of Maulana Roomi’s observation:

Boo-e-Kabr-a-Boo-e-hins-o-boo-e-Az

Dar Sukhan Guftan biyaagad choon

Smell of pride and greed and lust (for power)

Betray you when you speak as much as the onion you have eaten.

Take life in stages

Hindus divide a person’s life into four equal parts of 25 years each. Brahmacharya, grihasta, vaanprastha and sanyas. Guru Nanak described what happens to a person who lives into the 90s. In a hymn in Raga Mauha, he wrote (I use G. S. Makin’s translation from The Essence of Sri Guru Granth Sahib): “A human being spends the first ten years of his life in childhood, upto 20 years in growing up, at 30 he starts feeling weak; at 60 he feels old, at 70 he feels the weakening of his senses, at 80 he is not capable of doing any work and at 90 he keeps lying down and does not understand the basic reasons of all the weaknesses.”

Nature has its own calendar of ageing. Human societies in different parts of the world have evolved norms to suit their social structure. By nature’s calendar, both males and females may be regarded to be in their infancy till they are old enough to procreate, that is in the case of the female when she begins to menstruate and in that of the male when he is able to fertilize the female. However, human societies prescribe different ages for them when they are allowed to do so. So we have legal bars against the marriages below certain ages and we provide deterrents against having too many children. The common use of contraceptives makes this possible. The reproductive phase of females comes to an end with menopause, while that of males lasts much longer but with rapidly decreasing capability. Both males and females are at the peak of their physical prowess between 18 to 35. Thereafter, their bodies begin to decline but their mental faculties remain unimpaired for many more years to come. Nevertheless, man-made rules require them to retire by the time they are 60. So is human nature in conflict with human rites and laws throughout their existence. In addition, medical science has made spectacular advances which ensure us much longer lives in good health than our ancestors could have envisaged. Their neatly made up stages of life no longer hold good.

Guru Nanak lived 70 years (1469-1539). With the kind of medicines and medical expertise available at that time, one can well understand that by 50 a man starts feeling weak, at 60 old, at 70 his senses began to deteriorate. By 80 he is unfit to do any work, and at 90 he is largely confined to his charpoy. As one of the Guru’s followers, I can cite my own case. I am close to being 90. Although my vision is poor, I am hard of hearing and can only hobble around my house, I do not spend most of my time lying in bed. I work much harder than I ever did before. Among my present day pre-occupations is to read his baanee and translate it into English.

As for the Hindu division of life into four periods, I have been in the fourth, that is sanyas, for quite sometime. But it has my own definition. It means restricting contact with the outside world to the minimum but enjoying all the creative comforts at home — ghar hi me udaasa. I have no intention of entering the actual sanyas, or total renunciation. Where in the jungle will I find a doctor or a dentist when I need one?

Fishy business

A man saw a fisherman standing in a lake with a mirror. “Excuse me”, he said, “but could you tell me what you’re doing?”

“I am fishing.”

“With a mirror?” the first man asked.

“Sure, it’s a new invention. I’m going to make a fortune.”

“Could you tell me how it works?”

“Okay, but it will cost you a hundred rupees.”

The first man was so curious that he gave the fisherman the money.

“Now show me how it works,” he said.

“Well,” the fisherman began, “you aim the mirror into the water, and when a fish goes by, you startle him with rays of light reflected from the mirror. The fish gets confused and then you grab him.”

The first fellow was shocked.

“You can’t mean to tell me that’s how you fish. It’s ridiculous! How many have you caught?”

“You’re the fifth today!” replied the fisherman.

(Contributed by Reetan Ganguly, Tezpur)