THE CRACKERS HAD TO WAIT...

April 08, 2012

Two days back, early morning, a loud sound of crackers woke me up. I quickly jumped out of my bed and went near the window to peep out. The Pundit of the temple in our complex had wished all of us, “A Happy Hanuman Jayanti!”

It was Good Friday, too… and, I knew, I had to go about my day wearing the appropriate mood in my heart. Crackers, to me, had to wait till the Easter Sunday… So, though I heard the festive greetings through the busting of those crackers, I, somehow, did not know how to tell my heart to respond.

Hanuman is the symbol of strength and loyalty… Courage, endurance and sacrifice. Millions of my Hindu fellow-beings were celebrating this mighty hero’s birthday. And, here was I, a Christian, all set – that morning – to mourn… because, my Lord, my mighty Hero, had been crucified on the same day!

This thought, in deed, had crossed through my mind, when the crackers were going up in the air, that morning:

“What if I were born in a Hindu family?”… And, “What if that Pundit was born in a Christian family?”

I remembered our school days. Ours was a Christian school. After the school hours, we had to stay back for some prayers. My non-Christian friends used to join us, so often… They knew those prayers even better than we did!

Still, we kept believing in what was handed over to us by our faith, which, had come to us through the accident called ‘birth’!

If I were born in a Hindu family, my name might have been, perhaps, Ajay or Vijay. If I were born in a Muslim family, I might have been some Akbar or Birbal… and, if I were to come from a Sikh family, sure, you would have called me a Jaswinder Singh or a Balwinder Singh!

I am Gerald D’Cunha – or Gerry – because I happened to take birth in a Christian family. I did not choose my faith… It was given unto me!

So was to that Pundit… So was to Akbar… and so was to our Balwinder!

Today is Easter Sunday. I, like my fellow-Christians, believe that my Lord, Jesus Christ, had risen from death on this day. My non-Christian friends wish me ‘Happy Easter’ and, they do not bother to reason out with me: “Hey buddy, tell me, how can you believe this? How can a man come alive after death?”

No; no one reasons out with me like that. I try to reason out within myself… Jesus was God and he had taken His human form… So, it was possible for Him. Not for you and me!

Similarly, no one reasons out with me, “Hey, how can you believe that Jesus was born to a Virgin?”

No; no one questions me like that… I am given the freedom to believe the way I do!

I have never reasoned out with my fellow Hindus, “Hey, how could Kunti conceive Karna, through the Sun?” or, “How could Hanumanji fly like a bird?”

In our native place, our house was surrounded by Hindu and Muslim families. A week ago, I wrote about one of our immediate neighbors, who harassed my poor dad through a court case that took twenty-one years to die! By a sheer accident, he was born elite, rich and a Christian!

But, other neighbors were hand-to-mouth like us. On every Ganesh Chaturthi and Krishna Ashtami, my mom did not have to cook at home. We would be flooded with festive specials! Ditto, on Eid. When our neighbor prepared the Eid ka Biryani, the whole village would come to know it was Eid… and, my mom did not have to cook on Eid either! And, then, on our Christmas, Easter, Feast of Nativity (Mother Mary’s birthday) and Parish feast – my mom had to cook for the whole village, as well!

On another side of our house lived a Brahmin family. A dyed-in-the-wool Brahmin family. Hundred-percent pure! We were very small and the elderly lady from that family would call us, the children, so affectionately, to offer us some goodies on special days. When we would race to her with such delight, what would, always, fascinate us was: she would insist that we kids held our receiving-hands at least one foot below her offering-hands! The pure-Brahmin tradition demanded such things. But, who cared whether it was one foot or ten, as long as we kids got our goodies!

And, what was even more fascinating was that her grand children were our thick friends. Though we children were not allowed to sneak into their house, they would royally merry inside ours… and, eat whatever – yes whatever – our mom cooked for us. Who cared whether it was from the same plate and whether you ate beans or bone… and, yes, whether you worshiped Krishna or Christ!

I have never, ever asked

my non-Christian brothers and sisters

as to why they worship, celebrate or mourn

the way they do…

Nor have they asked me the same!

Yes, today is Easter Sunday. The day for my crackers to go up in the sky…

And, whether I offer you the Easter eggs or the Easter bunnies… Whether you offer me Payasam or Biryani… who cares?

Yes, as long as we have this precious freedom to believe, trust and love the way we do.