Anekal, KARNATAKA / NEW DELHI :
Abou Ben Adhem is a poem by Leigh Hunt. Some may say it is old hat. But, for ever its philosophy is relevant; in truth in today’s world of war, strife and self-obsession among people.
Abou Ben Adhem wakes up from his deep, peaceful sleep and sees an angel writing in a book. What are you writing?, asks Abou Ben Adhem.
The angel says, “The names of those who love the Lord.”
“And is mine one?, asks Abou
“Nay, no so,” says the Angel
Then Abou, humbly says, “I pray thee, then, write me as one that loves his fellow men.”
The Angel writes so and vanishes.
The next night, the angel appears again and shows the names whom God had blessed. And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest. This, even though Abou Ben Adhem, instead of saying “he loved the Lord” he had said he “loved his fellow men.” It simply means in this world it is more important to love fellow men rather than merely loving God. We all know what is happening in West Asia as a result of loving God too much and fellow men less.
Last evening, I was witness to a number of Abou Ben Adhems on the vast stage of Kalamandira. The occasion was the first award presentation to those who have “Loved their fellow men,” to use the words of Abou Ben Adhem, by the partners of city’s Ganesh Beedi Works under the auspices of their Charitable Trusts in the name of their parents M. Govinda Rao and D. Ramabai. It is known as Ramaagovinda Puraskar-2016.
Yesterday, I was caught in a web struggling to decide to which of the three programmes I was invited I must go — one wedding, a dinner at Palace in connection with MRC election and the function at Kalamandira. I decided on Kalamandira and happier for that. A memorable awards function indeed, made more memorable by the cultural event ‘Miracle on Wheels’ a performance by the specially-abled youngsters on wheelchairs par excellence.
There was yoga on wheels, Dashavathara on wheels, Bhagavad Gita on wheels and more. Performing with clock-work precision, timing of movement well synchronised as they criss-crossed the stage while the audience wowed wonder-struck. The accompanying music and song, mostly verses from Hindu Mythology, held the audience spellbound.
The innovator-choreographer of this extraordinary show by the specially-abled performers was Dr. Syed Salauddin Pasha, a Kannadiga from Anekal near Bengaluru, now settled in Delhi. I learn he is a follower of Sufism. No wonder he came on the stage wearing a dhoti and a white manila bush coat, crimson nama glowing vertically on his broad forehead. He looked younger for his fifty years. But for his name you wouldn’t know he is a Muslim.
It was revealed by himself that as a student he was given a Quran by his parents and sent to school but he would go to his Brahmin friend’s house and return as Pasha Iyer ! From what he spoke from the stage it was clear that he has mastered both Islamic studies, Hindu Mythology and religion. He was so eloquent in chanting the sacred verses the audience applauded him with clapping ever so often.
Star of Mysore had published about his achievements on Saturday, 19th March, 2016. If Karnataka Government has not recognised him with a Rajyotsava Award or some other award, he indeed deserves one because he is a Kannadiga who speaks impeccable Kannada with ease and eloquence and wants to shift to Bengaluru for good for love of his roots.
Be that as it may, I must conclude this column by appreciating two anecdotes one of the awardees, Sanskrit scholar Lakshmisha Tolpadi, narrated to underscore two values of idealism in our lives:
There was a guest who had come to the house at lunch time but there was no rice ready to cook. There was paddy, though. The housewife, being alone in the house and believing in the ideal ‘Athithi Devo Bhava’ (Guest is Divinity incarnate) requested the guest to wait till she cooked food.
She then starts pounding the paddy. Realising that the clinking sound of her bangles in her hands would betray her pounding of the paddy which would make the guest know that she was taking extra trouble, she quietly removes all the bangles, makes rice out of paddy, cooks food and serves the guest.
Moral: Let not others know the trouble you take or trauma you undergo while helping others. Never say ‘I suffered so much to help you.’ Such help is no help; just craving for appreciation or sympathy. It makes the beneficiary disgusted with himself for being the cause for another’s inconvenience and makes one guilty of troubling others.
Another anecdote relates to one Pakru, an old, poor nonagenarian, known for his knowledge of Tulu Language, a dialect in Dakshina Kannada. Once one Venkataraju, a research scholar collecting Tulu words and vocabulary, went to see Pakru in order to write an article in the newspaper. Venkataraju took a photograph of Pakru using flash. Pakru innocently asked Venkataraju, “What are you doing? What is that flash of light?’’
When told that he was taking his photograph for publishing in newspaper, Pakru innocently said, ‘‘Why photograph when I am here in your presence.”
This kind of innocence of the noble and a simple person, the modern man of education can’t understand, said Lakshmisha Tolpadi.
This incident reminded me of what my friend M.P. Prabhakaran in New York had written in his latest book, sent to me last week, titled ‘‘My Thirty-Day European Odyssey’’ about a similar situation.
Prabhakaran lands in Stockholm airport. He sees a larger-than-life picture on the wall of a statue of Birger Jarl, the founder of Stockholm. It had an imaginative, tourist-friendly caption: ‘Welcome to my hometown.’ Prabhakaran was not sure if he could take a photograph of it for security reasons and asks a fellow traveller, a local person, if he could take a photograph.
He asked: “How long are you going to be in Stockholm?”
“Three days,” said Prabhakaran.
“Then go to the City Hall one day. The statue of Birger Jarl you are seeing in this picture is there in front of the city hall. Instead of taking a photograph of a photograph of the statue, why not take a photograph of the statue itself?”
e-mail: kbg@starofmysore.com
source: http://www.starofmysore.com / Star of Mysore / Home> Abracadabra….Abracadabra… / by K. Ganapathy / March 30th, 2016