Doing good facelessly
By N. K. Oberoi

TWO or three days before Divali, standing in the sanctuary of Shivala, as I opened my eyes after prayer, I found, to my utter astonishment a pack of hundred-rupee notes on the shivalinga. The pujari came and asked me to put the same in the big chest placed outside the inner shrine. The pack was too big to be put into the narrow mouth of the chest in one single attempt. The"donor devotee" had disappeared. The pujari, in an attempt to soften my sense of surprise, remarked: "Nothing new, many people here offer a gupt daan. It was gupt, but it was not daan, for afterwards I came to know that the donor was one of the lucky gamblers who generally make such big offerings to God near Divali. It was their own way of pleasing or bribing God, before or after their win in a game of dice or cards. Such a big offering and no mention of it! I failed to understand. Now if the same fellow gave financial aid of say about Rs 50 to a friend in need, he would not give it without making any proclamation. In fact, he is likely to announce it more than once to take the credit for the ‘good’ deed. If he donates a water cooler or a ceiling fan to a temple (The source of his prosperity), he will like his name to be written or inscribed on the goods donated. One can see and read the names and addresses of the donors on hundreds and thousands of marble slabs and tiles in places of worship in our country. Even behind our small courtesies like lending a scooter to someone for some time; sending the right mechanic or a plumber to somebody busy in construction work, or paying the electricity bill of a neighbourer, there is not only an unexpressed craving for credit, but also expectation of repayment of these little acts of kindness.

Of course, we feel good and experience joy after performing a good deed and getting credit for it. But there is a special kind of satisfaction, a novel kind of joy that comes from doing good on the sly. There is a proverb Neki kar aur kuein mein dal (Do good and do not make a mention of it). Virtue, they say, is its own reward. The use of ‘mention not’ is taught to us in our schooldays as a sign of good manners in response to ‘Thanks’ but do we sincerely mean it? No! We would rather publicise our good deed. We dub the person ‘a boor’ or ‘an ungrateful and uncultured fellow’, if he does not remember our goodness and make a mention of it, leave alone talk of repaying it.

In fact, there are few stronger human hungers than the hunger for winning the approval of others. The performance of a good deed is generally prompted by a craving for credit, or publicity. Many millionaires indulge in ostentatious charity. If they donate a sum for the purchase of books (to be used by the poor students) in a school or a college library, they will definitely like the mention of their name in the ‘news bulletin’ of that institution. For them, it is nice to be important. They do become important, but they cease to be nice. In fact, they prove to be poorer than the poor scholars they help. A philanthropist donated a big piece of land to an educational institution, but not before demanding that his name be prefixed to the name of the institution (and it was done). It needs courage to be a donor, but it needs a still greater courage to be a donor without being a drummer.

Doing good anonymously is not something that comes naturally. It must be cultivated, for it goes against the natural grain of our ego. The craving for credit is there in all of us. The saints of all ages have been conspicuous for their inconspicuous benevolence. Jesus Christ was the supreme preacher and practitioner of secret altruism. After healing a leper, He sternly told him:"See that thou tell no man" and left the scene immediately. St Nicholas is reputed to have tossed gifts through windows without revealing his identity. Santa Claus, derived from St Nicholas, teaches us the fun of anonymous giving.

In fact, man’s little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love (to use Wordsworth’s line from his ‘Tintern Abbey’) go in the making of That best portion of a good man’s life. Those who do good quietly and devote themselves to little acts of kindness anonymously are invariably happy and serene people, spreading an aroma of joy and cheerfulness all around. They are the connoisseurs of inner joy at its loftiest refinement. So why not cultivate the good art of doing good on the sly.