A LESSON FROM THE DISTANT PAST

A lesson from the distant past

My grandmother, whose capacity as a story-teller was matchless, narrated to me this incident, which occurred in our village when she was very young. That would put it about 150 years ago. In those days, there were no proper roads and transport and communication were very deficient. Still people used to travel long distances for purposes such as pilgrimage, learning, and participation in debates conducted at courts of native kings and Lords. It took months and sometimes, years for such persons to return. Sometimes, they never did. Often, when they did return after long periods, their own relatives in the village would not be able to recognize them. There would be no proof of the relationship either. All the same, they would be accommodated as guests and treated well on the basis of their statements or dropping names of common relatives or friends, or mention of particular incidents which occurred in the village.

In those days, as a custom, there would be practically no long conversations between husband and wife in the presence of outsiders. None addressed his wife by name. It was only “adiyei” and a woman was not allowed to utter her husband’s name – not to speak of addressing him by name. Women in general had no say in the management of properties, finances or social contacts. Their role was confined to running of the household such as cooking, looking after children and upkeep of the house. This tradition was common to all Indian communities.

It was in this setting that one man descended on a fairly well-to-do family in our village. They were just husband and wife (let us call them Krishnan and Lakshmi), living in harmony and peace. The visitor (let us cal him Ramu) claimed that his father was Krishnan’s great uncle, who had gone to Kaasi (Varanasi) on pilgrimage, got married and settled there. Ramu said he had been told about his native village and many anecdotes involving people and incidents in the village and he developed an urge to see his ancestral place. He learnt that his cousin was living in the village and it was thus that he landed at Krishnan’s house. Ramu had gathered a lot of information about the village and his conversation left no room for doubts on the authenticity of his statements.

So Krishnan welcomed Ramu to stay with him. Special dishes were made for his lunch, evening repast and dinner. Ramu enjoyed the hospitality for a couple of months. He befriended the villagers and regaled them with tales of Varanasi and other place, which he claimed to have visited. He would often talk to Krishnan when they were sitting on the verandah of the house or visiting their farm. Likewise, he would talk to Lakshmi when Krishnan was away on some work. He had a mischievous mind and tendency to ask too many personal questions or veer the conversation to embarrassing topics.

Ramu’s hosts and the villagers had their own daily chores to do while Ramu had nothing. Over a period of time, their attention to Ramu became less and less and Ramu was getting bored. He decided that it was time to depart.

One day, during his chat with Krishnan, when they were alone, Ramu dropped a hint that probably Lakshmi belonged to the canine family in her previous birth as she had the habit of licking her hands too often during meals. One practice in south India was that no wife would eat with her husband or in his presence. For that matter, ladies in general would not sit with gents for any meal; men-folk would eat first and then ladies had a separate batch, even at functions. So what Ramu told was a revelation to Krishnan because he had never watched her during meals.

Closely following this, one day, Ramu found an opportunity to talk to Lakshmi when she was alone. He told her in whispers that Krishnan was probably a vendor of salt in his previous birth. He must have been carrying salt bags on his back as he had a tendency to sweat excessively. It was likely that his skin would taste salty even in the current birth. He casually repeated these a few times. Then he left with some gifts kindly offered by his hosts.

The drops of venom administered by Ramu started working and Krishnan and Lakshmi began watching each other for telltale signs of vestiges of their previous birth. The happy couple, devoted to each other and united in their life and activities, became morose and suspicious of each other. A stage was reached when they could not suffer it longer.

The lady was more affected. So one night, when she felt that Krishnan was in sound sleep, she licked his back. Krishnan was actually wide awake and he had been wondering how to verify Ramu’s observation. Lakshmi’s action confirmed to him that she belonged to the canine family in her previous birth and was habituated to licking. Lakshmi, on the other hand felt that Krishnan’s skin tasted salty and that he was a salt vendor in his previous birth. They started fighting and screaming at each other in the dead of night and came out on to the street. Neighbours gathered and somehow quietend the couple. It took a lot of effort to convince Lakshmi that sweat and blood are salty in taste and that there was no correlation between this and previous birth. Similarly, Krishnan had to be persuaded by elders to accept that the crook Ramu had deliberately destroyed their peaceful and happy life by playing upon their gullibility.

Grandma concluded saying “Beware of whom you admit into your household and take their statements with a pinch of salt. Beware of unsolicited and unwanted advice dished out by others. It is very difficult for us to know whether such persons are genuinely interested in our welfare or not. Even if such advices are well meant, it is quite likely that the person giving it does not know all the circumstances. It is always best to sort out differences with others by direct dialogue. Carrying our quarrels to outside world and seeking advice of others may be counterproductive.”

Then she told me of a very wise lady who had a simple method to deal with quarrel between her son and his wife. (In those days children were married off when they were in their teens and joint family culture prevailed) Her larder or pantry, (whatever we may call the place where eatables were stocked in the house), was well- stocked and there were plenty of tit-bits and cookies inside. Whenever the young couple quarreled and the fight seemed endless, she would lock up both inside this room. When left alone like this, they found that they had to sink their differences of views and pull on together. The old lady would open the door only when they promised not to quarrel again. Of course, her cookies would keep off the children from starving if the lock up was too long. P. G. Wodehouse has described Bertram Woosters’ boyhood nurse locking him up and another in a clothes cup-board when they quarreled. A few minutes inside the cupboard saw a change and each one started blaming own self for the misunderstanding and craved pardon from the other. I am not able to recollect which of his novels it was, but the fact remains that the wisdom of the old all over the world was great.

My grandmother’s story may sound gross and absurd. But very often truth is ugly and unbelievable.

That brings me to a related issue. While the story shows us how a mischievous mind can drive a wedge between the husband and wife or for that matter, two close relatives or friends, there are instances where, even well-intentioned, but misconceived or erroneous interference by outsiders (I call them interested third parties) like parents or in-laws or even loyal servants brought the same effect. Classic examples are the roles played by Manthara in Ramayana and Sakuni in Mahabharatha. They believed that they were actually protecting the interests of their loved ones namely, Bharatha in Ramayana and Kauravas in Mahabharatha. But the result was disastrous. A few minutes of counseling (in reality, brainwashing), changed Kaikeyi from her adoration of Rama, to treating him as her bitter enemy and usurper of Bharatha’s fortunes. She wanted him to go immediately. It was like someone flogging a top class horse, already galloping fast, to go faster. And Kaikeyi turned so ruthless that she wanted even Seetha to shed her ornaments and wear the bark of trees, which she herself brought and handed over to Rama. She did not heed the pleas of elders to spare Seetha. It took a volley of abuse from the usually soft-spoken Guru Vasishta to make Kaikeyi relent and allow Seetha to wear clothes befitting her status as a princess. Such is the power of mischievous counseling. The only justification for this, if at all one wishes to exonerate Manthara, is the strong attachment which Manthara had towards her mistress Kaikeyi and her son Bharatha. Her concern, viewed in the narrow perspective of a menial, was their welfare and not the larger interests of the nation.

Opposed to this is the mischievous mind like Ramu’s in our story, where one interferes just to satisfy one’s ego or purely for sadistic pleasure. Most of us would have read or heard the story of the washer-man, his son and their donkey. They listened to gratuitous advices given by every passer- by and came to grief.

Looked at from the other side, let us admit that the tendency to give advice is a general trait among our population. Some such “wise” people even go to the extent of warning us that we would repent if we do not act on their advice. One has to be very circumspect when listening to or acting on other peoples’ advice. I too have incurred losses and gone through unnecessary trouble, by accepting unsolicited advice, though on some occasions even unsolicited advice turned out to be for good. That is why I said one has to be circumspect in accepting it.

At the same time, let us not forget that our scriptures like Upanishads are full of words of wisdom. Thirukkural is another treasure. We have to differentiate between general words of wisdom for the well-being of humanity and those given by individuals to us whether solicited or unsolicited. The greatest and most precious piece of advice which our Ithihaasas and Puraanas contain is Bhagavathgeetha. Even here, Lord Krishna does not voluntarily pour out his advice, unsolicited. Arjuna is confused and refuses to do his duty because of a misconception and indulges in self-condemnation, at a juncture when his inaction would bring total disaster and miscarriage of justice. He seeks the Lord’s advice “Sishyastheham Saadhi maam thvaam prapannam”. It was equally incumbent upon Lord Krishna as the relative, friend and of course, the Lord of the Universe and protector of Dharma, to give Arjuna, a clear vision of his role and duty. A lengthy and meaningful dialogue follows and every point is cleared.

Even then, at the end the Lord says “Ithi the gjnaanamaakhyaatham Guhyaathguhyatharam mayaa/// Vimrisyaithadasheshena yatthhecchasi thatthha kuru” (thus knowledge has been imparted to you by me, knowledge that is most mysterious and secret which is not to be revealed to all and sundry. Please ponder over it critically and thoroughly and act as you please). The Lord does not ask Arjuna to follow the advice blindly. He desires Arjuna to exercise his discretion and decide. Arjuna’s reply is also noteworthy “Nashto mohah Smrithirlabhdha Thvathprasadath mayaachyutha / Stthhithosmi Gathasandehah Karishye vachanam thava” (I am disillusioned. My doubts have been cleared. I shall act according to your advice). Verses 63 and 73 Chapter 18 of Bhagavathgeetha.

We should know exactly when we really need advice, we should know whom to approach for advice, we should know what we should disclose and what not to disclose, for giving too much will only confuse the thinking and cloud the perception, and we should pin-point the aspects on which we need advice. In other words, it should be a language of specifics and haziness should be avoided. No aspect pertinent to the issue should be left in doubt.

I hope this piece will not be consigned to the trash can, but it will be accepted as a useful note, emanating from past experiences of an old man and lessons he learnt.

P.G.krishnamoorthy 8 A/12, Brindavan, Thane West – 400601, Maharashtara State, India.