My daughter was rushing to her Sanskrit class today, when at the bus stop she saw a dog 'almost dead'. Not sure what to do, she waited.
Then she said a begger came by. He saw the dog, bent over it, patted it a few times, and quickly went to the tea shop around the corner and bought back a half litre packet of milk.
Two other school boys in government school uniforms passing by, stopped. And they kneeled by this mangy dog, unafraid, and gently opened its mouth and held it open, while the begger poured in milk in drops.
It seems the dog only faintly wagged its tail, unable to do any more. As it licked the milk.
And the four of them settled there, under the tree. The dog, the begger, and the two boys.
A picture of completeness. A universe contained under a tree. In its fullest and most perfect sense.
... and this greatness, which goes on in silence, in the poorest of spaces in this land. Is what makes the rains still fall despite all our collective failures in humanity.
... and this is the only greatness before which the head and the heart bow. In silence.
... and one is reminded again of the heights of humanity that is possible, and needed. For each of us to rise to.
How many of us here would touch a mangy dying dog on the road, to give it milk and company in its last minutes or hours ?
The begger did, the two small boys on their way to the government school did.
And I know I would not.
I would be afraid of its biting me, afraid of rabies. And I would build up a theory on how life is anyway fleeting.
And therein do I see my shallowness again and again. In blinding clarity.
Mirrored in the greatness of people far larger than me. In the village, in the city.
Usua people far 'poorer' than me.
Yet infinitely richer in every way ...
No comments:
Post a Comment