THE OUTSIDER
"I did not realise that I was a Jew,
till Hitler made me feel I was one."
Every time I think about these famous words, I get goose pimples, all over my body!
I do not watch T.V. But, I do read the morning news paper. And, what could you expect on the front page - rather the entire news paper - today?
India had won, comprehensively, the Mohali Test match against the formidable Australia. My idol, Sachin, would be doubly delighted as he had scaled his own zenith. But, instead of reading about and basking in the glory of this beautiful moment, we stared at the dark news - the carnage and bloodbath - and sulked. At least, I did.
Did Sachin, my idol, achieve his 12,000-run-pinnacle in Mohali, Punjab? Or, did he, a Maharashtrian, achieve it on an 'outside' land?
My maid servant is a Maharashtrian. She does her daily rounds in four houses: Ours - the Mangloreans; our two neighbours' - one Keralite and the other a Bengali; the fourth house is that of a Bihari. This Maharashtrian lady earns her daily bread doing her rounds, quietly and gracefully, in our houses - all 'outsiders'!
And, she has no complaints about it. If at all she has any thing, that's only gratitude.
As I have.
Yes, for the inexpressible opportunity this Maharashtrian land has given me. For three decades, I have lived here ... and what a privilege that has been! Never, ever did I - even once - feel that I was an 'outsider', during all these years. Thousands of students whom I have taught hailed from all over India. They were Maharashtrians, Punjabies, Sindhies, Bengalies, Gujrathies, Biharies,UPites, Rajasthanies, Kashmiries, and they came from Kerala, Karnataka, Tami Nadu, Andhra, Goa and every nook and corner of India. I do not think, any other city, any other state in India - yes, including our national capital Delhi - can boast of this fact, this unique and 'exclusive' privilege.
People like me can only look back at it with gratitude. Maybe, in a silent pride, too.
What is happening outside, today, is not a new game. The political games are played by the politicians, and that is their job ... as teaching and writing is mine, as sweeping, sopping and washing are of our maid's. We are neither able to understand nor are interested in such games. But, then, when the outcome of their games hits us like a tornado, threatens our livelihood, makes us run for our lives ... probably, we can only be helpless.
Probably, we can help each other in our own little ways, by sowing our 'little good seeds';
Probably, we can be 'compassionate' towards those who mislead and are misled ... who hate, burn, destroy and kill;
Probably, we may say what Christ said from the cross, as he gave up his last breath:
"Father, please forgive them,
for, they do not know what they are doing."
I wouldn't, perhaps, realise, that I am a Manglorean - an 'outsider' - here, till, Mr. Raj Thakeray will make me feel so!
GERALD D'CUNHA
till Hitler made me feel I was one."
Every time I think about these famous words, I get goose pimples, all over my body!
I do not watch T.V. But, I do read the morning news paper. And, what could you expect on the front page - rather the entire news paper - today?
India had won, comprehensively, the Mohali Test match against the formidable Australia. My idol, Sachin, would be doubly delighted as he had scaled his own zenith. But, instead of reading about and basking in the glory of this beautiful moment, we stared at the dark news - the carnage and bloodbath - and sulked. At least, I did.
Did Sachin, my idol, achieve his 12,000-run-pinnacle in Mohali, Punjab? Or, did he, a Maharashtrian, achieve it on an 'outside' land?
My maid servant is a Maharashtrian. She does her daily rounds in four houses: Ours - the Mangloreans; our two neighbours' - one Keralite and the other a Bengali; the fourth house is that of a Bihari. This Maharashtrian lady earns her daily bread doing her rounds, quietly and gracefully, in our houses - all 'outsiders'!
And, she has no complaints about it. If at all she has any thing, that's only gratitude.
As I have.
Yes, for the inexpressible opportunity this Maharashtrian land has given me. For three decades, I have lived here ... and what a privilege that has been! Never, ever did I - even once - feel that I was an 'outsider', during all these years. Thousands of students whom I have taught hailed from all over India. They were Maharashtrians, Punjabies, Sindhies, Bengalies, Gujrathies, Biharies,UPites, Rajasthanies, Kashmiries, and they came from Kerala, Karnataka, Tami Nadu, Andhra, Goa and every nook and corner of India. I do not think, any other city, any other state in India - yes, including our national capital Delhi - can boast of this fact, this unique and 'exclusive' privilege.
People like me can only look back at it with gratitude. Maybe, in a silent pride, too.
What is happening outside, today, is not a new game. The political games are played by the politicians, and that is their job ... as teaching and writing is mine, as sweeping, sopping and washing are of our maid's. We are neither able to understand nor are interested in such games. But, then, when the outcome of their games hits us like a tornado, threatens our livelihood, makes us run for our lives ... probably, we can only be helpless.
Probably, we can help each other in our own little ways, by sowing our 'little good seeds';
Probably, we can be 'compassionate' towards those who mislead and are misled ... who hate, burn, destroy and kill;
Probably, we may say what Christ said from the cross, as he gave up his last breath:
"Father, please forgive them,
for, they do not know what they are doing."
I wouldn't, perhaps, realise, that I am a Manglorean - an 'outsider' - here, till, Mr. Raj Thakeray will make me feel so!
GERALD D'CUNHA
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