Are We A Caring Society?
Pavan K Varma
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Gulzar's institute for the differently abled and the episode of Dana Manjhi offer differing perspectives
Gulzar Saheb, arguably one of India's finest poets, and i have been friends for many years.I have translated several volumes of his poetry into English, and he has translated some of mine.We were recently together in Bhopal for the Great Indian Literature and Film Festival. But for me, the visit to Bhopal was far more memorable for another reason. I accompanied Gulzar to Arushi, an institution for the differently abled, that away from the arc lights of Mumbai, he has helped to lovingly nurture for several decades.
The visit was an eye opener. Every child there, notwithstanding his or her conventional disabilities, brimmed with confidence and joy , and each had a personal bond with Gulzar. In fact, one of the girls, who was earlier deaf but can now hear because of an operation that Arushi facilitated, called Gulzar `Dadu'.
Gulzar had gone straight from the airport to buy her a badminton racket for her birthday , and she proudly showed it to me. Arushi has greatly expanded its footprint over the years, but, strangely, very few people know of Gulzar's involvement with it. I asked him why.
He said that this kind of work was best done quietly , without any fanfare.Were funds a problem? He said no. Every time Arushi seemed to be running out of resources, somebody would come forward to help. There was never any need to ask the government for assistance.
Indians, he said, were capable of love and compassion. Such emotions only needed to be tapped. Such a generous view surprised me. Observable patterns of behaviour show that the relatively privileged Indian is an exceptionally insular being with little or no interest in anything beyond his immediate and personal ken of interests.
Slums proliferate at the threshold of five star hotels, and Indians drive past them as if they don't exist. There seems to be a cynical and deliberate withdrawal from a constructive interface with society based on the conviction that there can be no interest higher than one's own.
Foreigners, who are otherwise great admirers of India, have said to me that the one thing they find difficult to understand is the amazing imperviousness of intelligent and educated Indians to the appalling poverty and deprivation often literally at their doorstep. It almost seems that they don't notice the needy , leave alone taking the initiative to do something for them.
I told Gulzar Saheb that there are identifiable reasons for this social insensitivity . First, in a highly competitive society , where the ratio between opportunity and aspiration is exceptionally adverse, those who succeed, even marginally , do not want to be distracted by larger community issues. The attitude becomes one of each for oneself and the rest be damned to their karma.
Second, there is a genuine and legitimate disenchantment with those who claim to speak for the cause of social altruism. In particular, the `idealism' spouted by our political class is seen to be hollow and opportunistic. What is promised is not implemented, and what is implemented is riddled with corruption.
This leads to a generic devaluation of the entire project of social good, so that even when a public welfare organisation is above board, its intentions are seen to be suspect.
Third, while Hinduism is at the level of philosophy one of the most profound religions in the world, in practice it breeds an individualism that privileges personal salvation over public good. A pious Hindu will take a dip in the holy waters of the Ganga oblivious to the filth and garbage on and around the bathing ghat.
Temples in India will have their coffers overflowing with donations, but few of the donors would want to spend the same money to help the thousands of needy around them. In the Hindu's quest for personal moksha, the countervailing moral imperative to identify his own spiritual growth with the welfare of the community has increasingly become dormant.
Gulzar Saheb listened to me with attention. But his belief in the good inherent in all human beings did not change. Indians may appear to be callous, he said, and often are, but below the surface, there is a deeply embedded conviction in the importance of dana, of giving, and of `paropkar', of giving back to society a little of what it has given to us.
Once people believe that their contribution will actually reach the intended beneficiaries, their diffidence becomes easier to overcome. And then, the floodgates open. Big and small amounts come in. People come out from the blue to volunteer. Good Samaritans crawl out of the woodwork. Support comes from the most unexpected quarters.
I was influenced by Gulzar's transparent idealism. But i remembered too that only recently , Dana Manjhi, a penniless tribal in Odisha walked for miles with his dead wife on his shoulder because neither the hospital nor anybody else would help him to transport her body to the cremation ground.
That image, symbolic of so much of what is wrong with us, is difficult to erase. I hope Gulzar Saheb is right, and i am wrong. But we still need to ask: are we really a caring society?
The writer is an author and member of JD(U)
Source: Times of India, 2409-2016
The visit was an eye opener. Every child there, notwithstanding his or her conventional disabilities, brimmed with confidence and joy , and each had a personal bond with Gulzar. In fact, one of the girls, who was earlier deaf but can now hear because of an operation that Arushi facilitated, called Gulzar `Dadu'.
Gulzar had gone straight from the airport to buy her a badminton racket for her birthday , and she proudly showed it to me. Arushi has greatly expanded its footprint over the years, but, strangely, very few people know of Gulzar's involvement with it. I asked him why.
He said that this kind of work was best done quietly , without any fanfare.Were funds a problem? He said no. Every time Arushi seemed to be running out of resources, somebody would come forward to help. There was never any need to ask the government for assistance.
Indians, he said, were capable of love and compassion. Such emotions only needed to be tapped. Such a generous view surprised me. Observable patterns of behaviour show that the relatively privileged Indian is an exceptionally insular being with little or no interest in anything beyond his immediate and personal ken of interests.
Slums proliferate at the threshold of five star hotels, and Indians drive past them as if they don't exist. There seems to be a cynical and deliberate withdrawal from a constructive interface with society based on the conviction that there can be no interest higher than one's own.
Foreigners, who are otherwise great admirers of India, have said to me that the one thing they find difficult to understand is the amazing imperviousness of intelligent and educated Indians to the appalling poverty and deprivation often literally at their doorstep. It almost seems that they don't notice the needy , leave alone taking the initiative to do something for them.
I told Gulzar Saheb that there are identifiable reasons for this social insensitivity . First, in a highly competitive society , where the ratio between opportunity and aspiration is exceptionally adverse, those who succeed, even marginally , do not want to be distracted by larger community issues. The attitude becomes one of each for oneself and the rest be damned to their karma.
Second, there is a genuine and legitimate disenchantment with those who claim to speak for the cause of social altruism. In particular, the `idealism' spouted by our political class is seen to be hollow and opportunistic. What is promised is not implemented, and what is implemented is riddled with corruption.
This leads to a generic devaluation of the entire project of social good, so that even when a public welfare organisation is above board, its intentions are seen to be suspect.
Third, while Hinduism is at the level of philosophy one of the most profound religions in the world, in practice it breeds an individualism that privileges personal salvation over public good. A pious Hindu will take a dip in the holy waters of the Ganga oblivious to the filth and garbage on and around the bathing ghat.
Temples in India will have their coffers overflowing with donations, but few of the donors would want to spend the same money to help the thousands of needy around them. In the Hindu's quest for personal moksha, the countervailing moral imperative to identify his own spiritual growth with the welfare of the community has increasingly become dormant.
Gulzar Saheb listened to me with attention. But his belief in the good inherent in all human beings did not change. Indians may appear to be callous, he said, and often are, but below the surface, there is a deeply embedded conviction in the importance of dana, of giving, and of `paropkar', of giving back to society a little of what it has given to us.
Once people believe that their contribution will actually reach the intended beneficiaries, their diffidence becomes easier to overcome. And then, the floodgates open. Big and small amounts come in. People come out from the blue to volunteer. Good Samaritans crawl out of the woodwork. Support comes from the most unexpected quarters.
I was influenced by Gulzar's transparent idealism. But i remembered too that only recently , Dana Manjhi, a penniless tribal in Odisha walked for miles with his dead wife on his shoulder because neither the hospital nor anybody else would help him to transport her body to the cremation ground.
That image, symbolic of so much of what is wrong with us, is difficult to erase. I hope Gulzar Saheb is right, and i am wrong. But we still need to ask: are we really a caring society?
The writer is an author and member of JD(U)
Source: Times of India, 2409-2016
