Civilization catches up with the Langur monkeys

http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/article800682.ece?homepage=true
http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/article801118.ece
The Commonwealth Games are scheduled to start next week in Delhi, and, the papers have been full of stories and pictures about the preparedness or the lack thereof. There are pictures of pan-stained wash basins and much else. But, that is not what caught my attention today…the Hindu ( a major Indian newspaper) has a lead story on how the CWG authorities are ‘employing’ trained Langur monkeys to keep away wild monkeys from the games’ sites. Civilization, I chuckled to myself, is catching up with the simians too…

I can quite imagine the conversation in a Langur family…”Our Chottu, you know, has got a good job now ?” Mama Langur would be telling her friends sitting on the mango tree outside the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium, “Civil service ki naukri mili hai, Chottu ko…” adding, “…ab tho contract ka naukri hai…magar Games ke baad permanent ho jayega…” (A job in the government civil service. Right now it is a contract job, but, it will become permanent after the Games)

Aunty Langur whose son Mottu did not get the job because he was overweight pipes in saying, “Of course that is what they say…that they will make him permanent after the Games…my cousin who was recruited for the Asiad Games in 1982, is still on contract…and this time, they told him that he was too old for the job…”

“Maybe Chottu will do so well that the Canadians will recruit him and he can go to Canada” Mama Langur piped in, already having dreams of visiting Niagara Falls once Chottu goes to Canada…

Aunty Langur could not get that go past her…”You know these Canadians are big chors (thieves)…they tempt our boys to apply for immigration to make money…and when the boys go there they tell them there are no jobs for them because they do not have Canadian experience…in any case what will a Langur do in Canada, there are no wild monkeys to chase away at the Air Canada stadium when the Blue Jays play” Aunty Langur chipped in, showing off her superior knowledge of Canada…Aunty Langur added, “You know Sarala’s son had to come back after paying 10,000 bananas for his immigration because he could not find even a circus job in Canada…no Canadian experience”

As this talk was going on among the women, Dada Langur ambled in, scratching his paunch…Dada Langur was the grand old monkey of the lot…he was grizzled from several fights he had over bananas, peanuts and yes, women in his days…he had wandered to different orchards and claimed that he had sat on a tree in Birla House at one of Gandhi’s prayer meetings…

“What are you women gossiping about ?” Dada asked as all the women monkeys covered their heads with the approaching alpha male…Walking into the assembly, Dada Langur fondly patted Sharyu, a thirty something year old curvaceous Langur, making it look avuncular, but, everybody knew his thoughts and intentions…

Mama Langur told him, “Dadaji, the Commonwealth Games are starting next week…” “Of course, I know about the Commowealth Games…" Dada Langur replied, "you must remember that I am almost as old as the Commonwealth itself…Did they finally get those toilets fixed ?”

Mama Langur who had to get in the news of her son’s selection to the Civil Service job cut Dadaji short, “Our Chottu has got a job with the Civil Service for the Commonwealth games…right now it is contract but will become permanent…”

“What job has Chottu got ?” Dada Langur asked, reaching for a clump of bananas…

Before Mama Langur could say anything, Aunty Langur chipped in, “He is going to drive away all our Langur brothers and sisters who will be visiting the stadiums from the villages…” Since Mottu hadn’t got the job, she needed to show the job in a bad light…

Dada Langur listened to Aunty Langur and swallowed a few more bananas…

“You know, they say the British left India, but, their practices never left the country…this is true not just for men and women, but, also for monkey dom…” Dada Langur started saying…

“During the salt satyagraha,” he continued, “whom did the British use to assault the satyagrahis…not British constables…the British sergeant stood with his sola topee on and ordered Indian constables to attack…the Indians had been trained on how to hit their brethren…the British sergeant stood by and gave orders…the Indian constables did the dirty work…”

“Of course, the Indian constables got special privileges…in fact, when the British left they took many of them to Bilayat (Bilayat means Overseas, the root word from which the word Old Blightey comes) with them…I remember, my cousin’s friend, Gilbert…his real name was Gowrishanker and he changed his name to Gilbert…went to Bilayat the year the British left, married a white girl and settled down…”

“So, Girls…” the patriarch continued, “things don’t change…civilization is catching up with us monkeys too, sixty years later…Mama Langur, forget marrying off Chottu to your brother’s daughter, Bitiya…get ready to welcome a Canadian memsahib as bahu in a few years’ time…” Dada Langur gave another avuncular pat to Sharyu and limbered off into the trees near Jawaharlal Nehru stadium

Coming home...btw, where is home ?

Though physically I reached Canada around 6.30 in the evening on Sunday last, my body has only today reached Europe on the way back from India and the mystic East. With about thirty landings and take offs in a period of twenty or so days and a time difference, at its peak, of twelve hours, the body is still figuring out where in the Universe I am. Over the past week, I was getting back from work around 6pm, going straight to bed, and, waking up around 11pm, cooking, doing the dishes etc., doing some meditation and going back to bed around 2am. Today I got up around 2am. Europe has a six hour time difference with Canada, and, so, since 8am is a a reasonable time to get up on a Saturday, I say, the body has reached Europe.

As I look back on the wonderful holiday, perhaps the most wonderful in years, I realize that most of my time was spent visiting temples. Not planned that way, but, that is how it worked out. I realized this, on the last day of my trip, as I wandered into the Hare Krishna temple in Mumbai’s Juhu area, while waiting for the vegetarian restaurant, Govinda, attached to the temple, to open. Sitting in the temple I saw and heard the young American Hare Krishna devotee put his heart and total being into a beautiful rendering of a bhajan (somewhat like a Gospel hymn) on Ganesha (it was the festival day of Ganesha, the God who removes all obstacles) and end with a rendering of Hare Rama, Hare Krishna...Outside the temple, Mercedes Benzes and BMWs jostled their way for parking to be in time to get seating as Govinda opened at 12.30pm.

Nowhere else in the world could one see this absolute integration of the divine and totally material. And that is India...now I realize why we Indians say Apna Bharat Mahan (our India is the greatest)...we can so well integrate the divine and the material that no one will see the difference...unlike other societies that trample tradition in their quest for modernity, as in material success, India does not...and that is what makes it unique...takes more time to get wherever you are going, spiritually or materially, but, you respect what has gone before....the journey is important, not how soon you get there...

Travelling around India, I could see that notwithstanding the modernity that the urban economic boon has brought in, this ability to integrate stays unchanged. It is not the orthodoxy of the fundamentalist of whatever religion, though there are evidences of that, occasionally. It is the willingness to accept the duality and ambiguity of life, something only the lateral mind can accept.

Seldom does one see, these days, a young woman in anything but Western clothes at workplaces ...but, catch the line at Mumbai’s Siddhi Vinayak temple on a Tuesday morning and you will see the same young women in traditional attire and a bindi (the red dot on the forehead)...Gods demand proper attire, and, an unflinching centuries' old dress code...

The centuries old temple at Guruvayur still demands that all women come dressed in a sari and men take off their upper clothing as a mark of respect to God...this is the only institution that I know of that sent the all powerful Empress of India, Indira Gandhi, packing to put on the correct attire and come back in the prescribed dress code to worship God...

In a similar vein, the statues of Gods and Godesses that are in every nook and corner of Bali have their lower limbs covered by a cloth, and, everyone who enters a temple must cover their legs with a sarong...

A statue of a God in Bali with the lower limbs covered




There is a beauty to this dichotomy that the linear mind will find hard to accept...Schizophrenia of the collective consciousness, or something Jungian like that, they will say...the reality is that is that it is this seamless ability to switch between the’ divine’ and the material that keeps that seething mass of one billion plus people in some sense of balance as the country goes through change...as it has been for thousands of years, invasions of different foreigners, integrating them and yet maintaining a distinctiveness...thus, there is no conflict in the pickpocket starting his day by offering his first takings at the local temple..and that is what keeps the balance when Mumbai’s twenty first century street planners struggle with removing a century old temple or mosque that comes in the way of a new express super highway...detour the highway...

Eastern mysticism pooh poohs the passing tranquility of a few moments that come in meditation with the same vehemence as it denounces the transitoriness of material comfort...which is why Theravadan Buddhists consider the Hindu attempt to incorporate the Buddha as the ninth avatara of Vishnu somewhat of an insult...the Buddha they say is beyond all this pain-pleasure equation, the Buddha doesn’t come back, Vishnu keeps coming back, they say, which reminds me of two siblings fighting over which one of them is more loved by the parents...

A friend of mine asked me on Monday as to what was my most significant experience on this trip...I was too jet lagged to respond then. As I reflect now, with the mental fog clearing, two experiences stay uppermost... the first was the Sagar Manthan (churning of the Ocean) images from Hindu mythology at the entrance to Angkor Thom...for those, not familiar with this story from Hindu mythology here is the abbreviated Reader’s Digest version...

Devas (gods) and asuras (demons) fought as most siblings do. Amrit, the divine nectar that would give immortality could only be obtained by churning the Kshirsagar (Ocean of Milk), where the asuras had dropped it when they wrested it from the devas. The devas and asuras both sought immortality and decided to churn the Kshirsagar. With the devas on one side and the asuras on the other, the Sagar Manthan commenced, the churning of the ocean of milk. Vishnu incarnated as Kurma, the tortoise, on whom was placed a mountain as a churning pole, and Vasuki, the great venom-spewing serpent, was wrapped around it and used to churn the ocean. A host of divine celestial objects came up during the churning. Among these, importantly, was Goddess Lakshmi, the Goddess of Prosperity, and the daughter of the king of the milky ocean . The last to come up was the Amrit. With this, the avatar of Kurma, the tortoise, ended. Vishnu then took up the form of a beautiful maiden (Apsara, you will find statues of millions of them all over Angkor Thom and Wat) to distract the asuras and gave immortality to the devas.

Sagar Manthan, represented at the entrance to Angkor Thom

The Sagar Manthan is symbolic of human existence, the constant churning, the constant activity, the myriad searches for peace, prosperity and all that...the churning is the expression of desire: but for desire there would be no human life, and, it is so beautifully caught in the representation as one enters the ancient capital of the Khmer kingdom, Angkor Thom...


And, then, the second significant memory...

A few steps away from Sagar Manthan is a representation of the Avalokateshwara Buddha, the being who can attain Nibbana and cross this pain-pleasure equation, but, who refuses to do so, till every sentient being can make the same journey...the Avalokateshwara Buddha (some regard the Dalai Lama as a manifestation of the Buddha Avalokateshwara) smiles without baring his teeth, the calm, realized smile that comes from the heart as He/She waits for each being to be ready to come with Him/Her...not a smile of victory or success, but, one of compassion and deep awareness...

The Buddha Avalokateshwara at Angkor Thom

And, as one stands before the statue the Buddhist chant rings loud and clear in the mind

Namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammasam Buddhassa

To such exalted Beings, I bow in deep reverence and humility
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