THE POWER OF A LITTLE STONE

Our minds get a lot pampered whenever people praise us. In fact, minds become so addicted to it, that we hungrily look forward to hear others praise us!

I am no angel… and, hence, my mind, too, craves to hear praises… something nice said about me by others. When that happens – just a lovely compliment, perhaps - it is enough to make my day… yes, as the old expression goes.

And, if that’s how my mind works, imagine what would be its state whenever people criticize us, talk ill about us! Our minds resist and detest the negative opinions about us by others, and, we fiercely guard ourselves against them… It makes us defend ourselves, and, then, go on an offensive!

“I have heard a lot about you,” a stranger tells me.

“Hope, something nice,” I tell, knowing very well, it is.

Then, someone, who I know, comes and tells me, “So and so was saying such and such things about you.”

Obviously, ‘such and such things’, here, are something mean and negative.

Now, you yourself have not heard either the pleasant or the unpleasant things ‘so and so’ had spoken about you… Even then, the pleasant things fall on your ears like romantic music, while the so-called unpleasant things sound like death knells!

On this Republic Day, we had the flag-hoisting ceremony in our housing complex. As the Honorary Chairman of our Society, I have been taking an active interest in this graceful ceremony, every year. It is very heartening to see the elderly, the young and the children coming forward with such enthusiasm and in such numbers… particularly, the little ones. They are so vibrant, buoyant… Absolutely patriotic!

After the ceremony was over, there were some two-dozen little-kids doing merry all around the complex, while we, elders, were having a good time in our own circles. 

Six-year-old Shiv* came to his dad, who was in our circle, with a complaint, accompanied by two of his friends.

“Daddy, daddy,” the little-fellow said panting for breath, “Ankush* snatched the flag from my hand.”

“Don’t worry beta,” the father caressed the little-one’s head, “we will give you a new one.”

So, the little-one went away taking the new paper-flag in his hand.

Five minutes later, little Shiv came, surrounded by four of his friends, with a fresh complaint:

“You told me never to tear, throw or stamp on our flag no?” the little fellow was blunt to his dad, “Look what Ankush has just done.” He looked at one of his friends and said, “You tell my dad.”

“Uncle, uncle, Ankush is very bad,” the friend announced, “He tore away the new flag you had just given to Shiv!”

“That’s not good; we should respect our flag…. But, you don’t fight with Ankush, don’t say something bad to him… We will tell him, okay,” the dad and some of us informed the kiddos, “Now, you all go and play happily.”

Another ten minutes later, the gang was, again, back. This time around, the complaint was:

“Daddy, daddy, Ankush is giving us ‘bad words’!”

Yes, the daddy was getting a little annoyed by now. The rest of us were a little chilled out about the happenings.

“See son, all of you are friends,” the daddy said to his little son holding by the little-fellow’s shoulders, “learn to be good friends and not fight… Don’t worry, we will tell Ankush not to give bad words, okay?”

The little gang went back to play only to be back there with one more complaint:

“Look daddy; he is giving bad words to ‘YOU’,” little Shiv was screaming, “Did you hear me? He is giving bad words to ‘YOU’!”

The daddy knew how the little-fellow had tried to ‘provoke’ his father, at such a tender age of six… When nothing had worked to pit his father against his ‘enemy’, now, the little fellow had, so instinctively, used the ‘Brahmastra’ – to tell his dad that someone had spoken ill about him (daddy)!

For, certainly, the little-one had learnt this mind-game – call it mental strategy – somewhere… at home, at school, at the play ground… somewhere. Yes, even at such tender age, he knew one of the survival lessons in our 'politics of life': "If nothing else succeeds in unnerving a man, tell him that someone is talking ill about him – it would do the trick!"

But, our daddy was in no mood to get provoked. He got up, lifted high his six-year-old ‘complaint-box’ and asked tenderly:

“Tell me my darling, is your dad good or bad?”

“Good,” the little fellow said looking at his sidekicks.

“So, will I become bad if Ankush calls me bad?”

The little fellow shook his head left to right for some time.

“Go and play then with all your friends,” the daddy placed his little son on the ground, “Don’t worry about what Ankush says about you or me. We will talk to him, okay?”

Off they all went… yes to play.

Another fifteen minutes later, little Shiv was back again! But, this time around, he was there to drink Pepsi from his daddy’s bottle… He passed on the bottle to all his friends... and, Ankush was one of them!

The daddy looked at us… and, we were smiling!

And, I was thinking about our minds…

I was thinking about the deep, quiet pond…

I was thinking about the power of ‘a little stone’ to stir the pond, create the ripple effect…

I was thinking about the restlessness, the agitation, at the surface of the pond and the serene glory that lay untouched down below at the depth…

I was smiling, at the way something nice and something nasty succeeded in stirring my mind…

And, I was able to feel the glory of the depth beneath! 

“Finished!!!!” little Shiv showed the empty Pepsi-bottle to his dad, with great pride coupled with mischief… and back he went, with all his friends… to where they all, really, belonged: the playground!

* All names have been changed

GERALD D’CUNHA

Pics.: Abhishek Iyer