The Old Man and his God.

February 16, 2006

The Old Man and his God Hare Krishna, A few years back, I was travelling in the Thanjavur district of Tamil Nadu . It was getting dark, and due to a depression over the Bay of Bengal, it was raining heavily. The roads were overflowing with water and my driver stopped the car near a village . “ There is no way we can proceed further in this rain,” said the driver. “Why don't you look for shelter somewhere nearby rather than sit in the car?” . Stranded in an unknown place among unknown people, I was a bit worried. Nevertheless, I retrieved my umbrella and marched out into the pelting rain . I started walking towards the tiny village, whose name I cannot recall now. There was no electricity and it was a trial walking in the darkness and the rain . In the distance I could just make out the shape of a small temple . I decided it would be an ideal place to take shelter, so I made my way to it . Halfway there, the rain started coming down even more fiercely and the strong wind blew my umbrella away, leaving me completely drenched . I reached the temple soaking wet . As soon as I entered , I heard an elderly person's voice calling out to me . Though I cannot speak Tamil, I could make out the concern in the voice . In the course of my travels, I have come to realize that voices from the heat can be understood irrespective of the language they speak . I peered into the darkness of the temple and saw an old man of about eighty . Standing next to him was an equally old lady in a

traditional nine-yard cotton sari . She said something to him and then approached me with a worn and clean towel in her hand . As I wiped my face and head I noticed that the man was blind . It was obvious from their surroundings that they were very poor . The temple, where I now stood, was simple with the minimum of ostentation in its decorations . The Deity was bare except for a bilwa leaf on top . The only light came from a single oil lamp . In that flickering light a sense of calm overcame me and I felt myself closer to God than ever before. In halting Tamil, I asked the man to perform the evening mangalratri, which he did with love and dedication . When he finished, I placed a hundred-rupee note as the dakshina . He touched the note and pulled away his hand, looking uncomfortable . Politely he said, “ Amma, I can make out that the note is not for ten rupees, the most we receive. Whoever you may be, in a temple,

your devotion is important, not your money . Even our ancestors have said that a devotee should give as much as he or she can afford to. To me you are a devotee like everyone else who comes here. Please take back this money .” I was taken aback . I did not know how to react . I looked at the man's wife expecting her to argue with him and urge him to take the money, but

she just stood quietly. Often, in many households, a wife encourages the man's greediness . Here, it was the opposite . She was endorsing her husband's views . So I sat down with them, and with the wind and rain whipping up a frenzy outside, we talked about our lives . I asked them about themselves, their life in the village temple and whether they had anyone to look after them. Finally, I said, “ Both of you are old . You don't have any children to look after your everyday needs . In old age one requires more medicines than groceries. This village is far away from any of the towns in the district . Can I suggest something to you ?”. At that time, we have started an old-age pension scheme and I thought, looking at their

worn-out but clean clothes, they would be ideal candidates for it . This time the wife spoke up, “ Please do tell, child .” “ I will send you some money. Keep it in a nationalized bank or post office. The interest on that can be used for your monthly needs. If there is a medical emergency you can use the capital .” The old man smiled on hearing my words and his face lit up brighter than the lamp. “ You sound much younger than us. You are still foolish . Why do I need money in this great old age ?. The Lord is also known as Vaidyanathan . He is the Mahavaidya, or great doctor . This village we live in has many kind people. I perform the pooja and they give me rice in return. If either of us is unwell, the local doctor gives us medicines. Our wants are very few. Why would I accept money from

an unknown person?. If I keep this money in the bank, like you are telling me to, someone will come to know and may harass us . Why should I take on these worries?. You are a kind person to offer help to two unknown old people. But we are content; let us live as we always have. We don't need anything more.” Sudha Murty.

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