TRUE TO OUR WORK AND TRUE TO OUR GOD






Pic.: Sheela Krishnamony

I believe, the moments when I remember God – whether in times of my great joy or acute distress – are the moments of my devotion...

Whether I kneel down , with my bowed head, or whether I look unto the heavens and cry, “Halleluajh, Halleluajh”... and, yes, whether I count beads or chant bhajans... all that God will be interested in is this: Did I do all this with my clean, humble and grateful heart?


The moment the God I worship becomes ‘my property’ – ‘my God’ - well, to me, that’s the death of my God!

Often, we go about praying so much – making such a ‘show’ of it – I wonder, if our God is so greedy for our veneration? Or, if we are being just hypocrites?

Some days ago, one of my dear old-students, Shripad, reminded me of this mythological story...


Narad was a huge devotee of Lord Vishnu.The whole day, he went around chanting, “Narayana, Narayana, Narayana.” Slowly, it had gone into his head that no one – whether on land or in heaven – worshiped Lord Vishnu the way he did. Worst, he wanted Lord Vishnu to validate his feelings, his claim that he was the greatest devotee of the Lord.
 
Lord Vishnu, obviously, did not like such a pride in his devotee. He wanted to convey Narad, that by chanting Lord’s name breathlessly, 24 by 7, a devotee did not become any great... Instead, a few moments of reverence would please Lord immensely.

“Narad, there is a poor farmer on the Earth, down there,” Lord Vishnu said to Narad, “I like him. For, I am impressed more by his devotion to me than yours.”

Narad’s heart sank on hearing this. “Lord how is it possible?” he asked, “I am the only one chanting your name all day long!”

“Well then, Narad,” said Lord Vishnu, “Please go down to the Earth and check for yourself.”

Narad went down to the Earth to check for himself. All that he saw was that the farmer rose early before sunrise, took Lord’s name, and went about doing his hard work in his farm. At noon, he again took Lord’s name before taking his meal. Finally, he took Lords name, one for the last time, before going to bed... Yes, that’ all - only three times in a whole day!

Narad was happy to note this. On reaching back to Vaikunt, Lord’s abode in heaven, he said to Lord Vishnu, “The farmer you are talking about just remembered you thrice in an entire day... and, I do it non-stop throughout the day. So, who is your greatest devotee?”

“Narad, before I tell you who,” said Lord Vishnu, “here is a pot, oil filled in it to the brim. Go back to the Earth, place it on your head, and just take one round about that farmer’s field. But, see that not a single drop of oil spills out!”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Narad thought and, as instructed, went back to the farm, placed the oil-pot on his head and took one round about the field, with great concentration on the pot, yes, without a drop of oil being spilled out!

“Now?” Narad was sure, that he had impressed Lord Vishnu.

“Narad, you just took little time to take one round about that farm. That’s great,” said Lord Vishnu, “But tell me, how many times could you remember me through that one round?”

“How could I Lord,” Narad was quick, “all that I could think of was the oil-pot... How to keep it steady on my head and not allow a single drop of oil to spill.”

“Well then, Narad,” remarked Lord Vishnu, “how do you expect that poor farmer to concentrate on his hard work in the farm, all day long, and remember me at the same time?” He added, “The poor farmer is true to his duty and and true to me, both. Thus, he pleases me more than you do.”


Let’s all go into our farms and toil, through the day, with all our devotion. When our plough is down, let’s, also, remember our Lord with equal devotion...

And, I think, that’s enough.


GERALD D’CUNHA


Comments

Pranay R. said…
Enjoyed the story and loved the moral. Thanks - Pranay

Popular posts from this blog

MUTHU KODI KAWARI HADA

SELLING MIRRORS IN THE CITY OF THE BLIND

"HAPPILY EVER AFTER IS NOT A FAIRY-TALE... IT IS A CHOICE"

THE WILD, WAYSIDE FLOWERS
There is, always, something extra-ordinary in the wild, wayside flowers...