WHEN YOU LIVE RESPECTING OTHERS' RULES... AND WITHIN CONSTRAINTS

Pic.: Barkha Manik

When I was about seven-to-eight years of age, we had this very popular parish-priest by the name Fr. Robert Pinto. He was very dynamic and, always, gave very impressive sermons. During the children’s mass on Sundays, he, really, would get down to our size and touch our little hearts with his inspiring stories. As our parents would, also, be present during this mass, often, his stories would send them home, too, a lot inspired and humbled. I still remember one story that he had told us, which has still stayed not only in my mind, but in my mom’s mind, too. Yes, even after, nearly, five decades!

It is the day one of the dreaded criminals of the times is brought to the gallows... to be hanged in the public square. Hundreds of people have come there to witness the sight.

The judge asks, “Do you have any last wish to fulfill?”

“Yes, I do,” replies the criminal, without even blinking inside his blind-fold, “I want to say something to my mother.”

The elderly mother is brought near the gallows, and the son bends to whisper something into his mother’s ears. But, even before others can understand what is happening, the son, the criminal who is condemned to death, bites off his mother’s ear...!

Hundreds of on-lookers are left shocked as the security-men, quickly, whisk away the criminal, who, in public glare, has unleashed one of the most unpardonable acts...

“Why did you do it to your own mother?” asks the Judge with disbelief.

The son gives the reason...

“When I was a little boy in school, one day, I stole a lovely pencil from another student’s bag. At home, when my mother saw the pencil, she did not scold me... did not tell me that it was not proper and I should return it to the student the next day. I kept doing such things, and, my mom, even after knowing what I was doing, never ever tried to stop me from my little thefts... Soon, I began to commit bigger thefts, and, my mother, because she thought she loved me, only began to protect me, more and more... I am a hardened criminal, now. But, had my mother tried to teach me what was proper and what was not, when I had committed my first little-theft in school, she would not have witnessed this tragic day in her life... I am sorry mom!”

When I was growing up in Mangalore, a couple of my cousins (from mom’s side), had lived with us in order to pursue their studies. They hailed from far away villages, while our house was very close to the city. At home, the financial condition was bad... But, our large-hearted parents and grand-parents never gave my cousins the impression that they were ‘outsiders’... But, I, always, could feel their silent loneliness... They knew that they were living with their relatives and not their very own parents... So, whatever preferences they might have had, whatever freedom they might have enjoyed at their own homes... no, here, at our place, they had to follow the rules of our home... Hundred times, they would think before inviting one of their friends home, leave alone for food or fun...Hundred times they would think, if they had to come home late... And, though my parents did not make any big scene about all this... my cousins did understand the value in living with relatives, within constraints. It only helped them come up in life as strong, mature and compassionate human-beings...

Some years later, I had to come to Mumbai seeking a job. I lived here with my uncle’s ( dad’s brother) family. He was a very small man in an organization, where he lived in a small quarters with his wife and two little children. I lived with them for seven long years... without even once getting into any sort of hassles with them. How my cousins had lived, back home, with us, had, now, come to my help... I was aware of the reality: I lived with my relatives and not with my own parents... I had to live according to the rules of my uncle’s family... And, that’s about it...

When I was jobless, in those days, for over three months, I was so scared to tell them about it... because I did not want myself to be a burden on them... So, I gave them an impression that I had a job... leave every day early and come home late in the evening. During the day, I would go about looking for jobs... get rejected... but, always would read ‘Think and Grow Rich’ of Napoleon Hill... sitting in gardens or a public libraries... There was no money in my pocket to eat... or travel... I would walk miles and miles... But, when I would come home, I had to pretend as if all was well...

Only my mother knew about it. “Hang on my son; it’s only a matter some more time,” she would remind me, always, “But, do not cause any inconvenience to your uncle and aunt.”

A dear student of mine is, presently, having some tough time, here, in Mumbai. He lives with his uncle (Mom’s brother). Understandably, the mother, who lives abroad, is very concerned about her young-son. The boy has begun to react with his uncle and aunt... and, there is tension and loneliness. Last night, I spoke to both, the son and the mother... I shared with them the story of my cousins... I shared with them my own story...

But, I did not share with them, the story Fr. Pinto had told us in the church, decades ago... during the children’s mass, that Sunday... But, I knew that he had told it to the children, as much as he had told it to the mothers...

A sad story?

Sorry, it is not!

GERALD D’CUNHA