Religion and Spirituality
This was the time when my father and mother struggled hard to demolish a 150 year old house and construct a new one. My father was teaching passionately in his college. He would come home, get me from school and then give me some snacks to eat. Once done, he would then drive down to the tuition place to teach students.
My father would notice an old man, with the most peaceful countenance greet him daily. The old man was a devout Muslim. He was clean shaven, and his wrinkled face would give indication of a once handsome man. The old man would accost my father and say "Good evening Sir! How do you do? You are doing a great job by teaching children here. I too used to teach in a primary school once. It is the job of teachers to mould young minds towards science, character building and being good human beings above everything else!". My father would whole heartedly agree with him. One fine day, when there was heavy rains and my father was waiting in the tuition room for the rains to abate, he heard unhurried footsteps on the stairs. Wondering who it would be at this time of the night, my father stepped out to find the Muslim neighbour with an umbrella and a thermos flask. "It is raining heavily professor! I figured you would like to have a cup of tea with me!". My father was moved by the gentleman's gesture and asked him to take a seat on one of the many benches in the tuition hall. My father and his friend sat on the desk and started sipping piping hot chai. They conversed on several topics including religion and spirituality. "Professor, do you not agree, that there is only one God! We call him Rahim and you call him Ram! It is just different names. But the divinity, our father is one!" . My father agreed and said "We as devotees of Shirdi Sai Baba have been thought the same! Sabka Malik Ek! (There is only one Master for everyone!).
A few days since this event, my father did not see the old man. After a week of wondering where the old man might be, my worried father went to the house from where the old man would come out. The house which would normally be lit up was dark. The gate had a large padlock on it. There were no houses nearby to enquire about the old man. The old man had mentioned that he was a widower and his children were married and settled abroad. 'Perhaps the old man had gone to visit them' thought my father!
A few more days passed and one day after the tuitions, my father was pleased to hear the familiar unhurried footsteps on the stairs. My father came out and jocularly greeted the old man who stood before him smiling. "My dear sir! You had me worried. Where had you been all these days? I am so happy to see you!". "As am I professor. I must apologise that I could not inform you. Another friend of mine called me and said he was planning a trip to Haj (Mecca). I jumped at the opportunity and went to the pilgrimage. I had an opportunity to pray in the holy city sanctified by the Prophet (P.B.U.H). Please have some dates. These dates are some of the best quality". As my father gratefully accepted the dates, the old man mentioned "My dear sir! I prayed to God to grant peace, prosperity, health and happiness to one person! Can you guess who that was?". My father asked who, to which the old man replied "I prayed for you sir! Why you are doing such noble work, teaching children. The world needs people like you!". My father was deeply overwhelmed and held the old man's hands and teary eyed said "Thank you my dear sir! You will always be in my prayers whenever I visit the temple. Truly, the world needs more people like you too! Why, people are always quarrelling over caste and religion. And yet look at us sir, 2 human beings who have never even once felt we are different or separate. Why the truly spiritual ones, whatever their religions might be, will be closer to each other than their very own co-religionists!". The old man heartily agreed.
My father shifted his tuition place and hence lost touch with the noble soul who was his neighbour in the tuition place. People like the old man do exist, but their voice or their stories are rarely heard. One only hears about the people who kill, throw stones and destroy public properties. We hear only about people who kill in the name of religion and people who do not want the country to provide refuge to religiously persecuted minorities from neighbouring countries, which were once part of Akhanda Bharatha (Undivided India). I pray that God grant people the goodness and kindness of this old man. My father remembers him fondly to this day.
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