Spiritual
This week: Suspicion or Trust -- The Choice is Ours Edited by: THANKFUL SONALI Library Class! More Newsletters By This Editor
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A monkey, and a bus-ride. And a few thoughts on trust. |
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Dear Reader,
I had my first encounter with 'suspicion' when I was three years old. Mom, Dad and I were at the zoo. I was three years old a long time ago, before the days of 'don't feed the animals', so I had bread with which to feed the animals.
We were at the monkey-cage. I couldn't reach through the bars, so Dad picked me up. I held a piece of bread out to the nearest monkey. He took it from me. Then, in a split second, he did a three-sixty-degree turn, clutched my now-empty hand in his paw, and with the other paw, scratched my hand so hard that I bled.
It took a few seconds for what had occurred to sink in, and for the pain to start. I began to bawl. Zoo officials came up. The monkey was isolated and put under observation. He was declared healthy, but I had to have injections in my tummy as a precaution, all the same. The Doctor gave me a sweet each time he gave me an injection.
"Why did the monkey hurt me? I was giving him food," I asked my Dad.
"Other people have teased him. They hold out food and snatch it away before he can get at it."
"But I had given him the bread already," I protested.
"He has learnt not to trust any human. Humans have been mean to him."
Thus had the monkey learnt, by personal experience, how not to trust.
What I appreciate is what my Dad taught me that day. He didn't say the monkey was bad or ungrateful. He didn't say - well what did you expect from a monkey? They are all like that. Instead, he taught me a valuable lesson in empathy, and in how one person's actions have consequences for other people. Instead of disliking monkeys, I started to think that people should not tease animals in zoos.
So the monkey learnt mistrust by personal experience, and I, thanks to my Dad, got a lesson in empathy.
Equally powerful are the second-hand lessons in mistrust.
At a storytelling session recently, people were narrating personal anecdotes as stories. A twenty-year- old man (I'm going to call him 'our young man' from now on) told of his experience vacationing in another state.
Readers must remember that India is a vast country, of many languages. People in one region don't necessarily speak the same language as people in another region, and, somewhat ironically, the English language is often the common factor between them. Not everyone speaks English, though.
Well, our young man, a resident of the Hindi-speaking heartland in the North, was setting out for a holiday with friends in the Tamil-speaking city of Chennai (formerly Madras) in the South. He didn't speak or understand Tamil, and family and friends tried to dissuade him from vacationing in a Tamil-speaking area. They're jingoistic. You don't know Tamil, you're in deep trouble, baby. Why not just go someplace else? But our young man was determined.
Early on in the vacation, he was with his Tamilian friend in a local bus, to go sight-seeing. The bus was crowded, and the friends couldn't find seats together.
Sitting 'alone', a few rows separating him from his friend, our young man was confronted by the bus-conductor demanding fare for a ticket -- in Tamil, of course. (In India, the driver drives the bus. It is the job of the conductor to collect fares and hand out tickets.)
Our young man stared, speechless, at this apparition of a Tamilian bus-conductor.
The conductor then asked, "Hindi, eh?"
Our young man began to sweat. Was he about to be kicked off the bus?
The question was taken up by the passengers around -- "Hindi? Hindi?"
Our young man wondered whether to make a dash for it, but the bus was crowded. He wouldn't be able to reach the exit, and what's more, he wouldn't be able to jump off, it was moving too fast.
"Hindi? Hindi?"
Why hadn't he listened to his family and friends, and just vacationed somewhere where he spoke the language?
Then, he heard the sound of the betrayal. His friend, who had understood what was happening, yelled from the back -- "Yes, Hindi." Our young man was aghast at his friend's perfidy.
The conductor, on receiving confirmation of the required language, then calmly asked him about his destination -- in Hindi. He collected the fare, handed him some change and his ticket, wished him a good holiday, and moved on to the next passenger, who was smiling, as was everyone around.
They had been trying to help all along.
Needless to add, our young man did enjoy the rest of his holiday. He even learnt to say, in Tamil, "I don't speak Tamil, please speak to me in Hindi," eliciting chuckles from his hosts. And he, by personal experience, un-learnt what he had learnt second-hand. Thanks to one bus-conductor and a handful of smiling passengers who chose to make his ride pleasant, he changed his negative perception of Tamilians.
The Dalai Lama has been quoted as saying: "We can let the circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful and afraid, or we can let them soften us, and make us kinder. You always have the choice."
We do have the choice. We can start up circles of suspicion, or circles of trust. It's up to us.
Thanks for listening,
Sonali.
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Thank you for the responses to "Spiritual Newsletter (May 7, 2014)"
I love the HP editorial! Great points to consider. As a fan I agree on the value of the character and the moral of the series. Thankfully, and what makes it a great story, is that 'good' wins in the end, even with a cost. dedes
Great NL. I like HP, but do not follow it so closely. The excerpts you gave us, showed valiant characteristics. I hope the children pick up on them. I am more of the LOTR person, but there is something about HP that draws you to him. 👼intuey
Bravo, this article was wonderful. I agree wholeheartedly. Children (and adults) need books like this which make people see that life is about making choices. Right action -- rarely talked about anymore. Where else will kids learn to see it, value it, understand its nature? My favorite line was "the choice between what is right and what is easy." shaara |
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