Pay heed to the wisdom of faith

Is it just me or have you all felt that the recent festive season has left you drained and exhausted? Forget the money you have spent on completely avoidable purchases and the heavy demands on your pocket over tips and bakshish, what does it all amount to? I think we do all this not out of respect for our religion but because we are superstitious about what may happen if we don’t. Each year, the rituals and the preparations preceding Dasehra and Diwali become more and more complex and competitive. WhatsApp and social media thrive on sending pictures of puja rooms done up fancifully, elaborate alpanas made by dutiful daughters-in-law and couples dressed in dazzling clothes, hugging each other in loving poses. So sheer peer pressure and social guilt forces one to spend one’s money and energy to mimic that false world.

I’m afraid I was no better. This year, after almost a decade and a half, all my sons were here. Two of them who live abroad are a rare sight at this time of year, so the house was overflowing with children, grandchildren, relatives and friends. Among the family present were a Brazilian bahu and a Japanese partner of one of the boys, so while they all ooh-ed and aah-ed over the food and décor, my only desi bahu, who would know how to help out with all the lamp lighting and food, was unable to come. So here I was, dealing with grandchildren who got up at the crack of dawn to demand breakfast of a sleepy grandmother while the rest of the family slept off a late night. Soon, the kitchen resembled a boys’ hostel canteen as someone wanted hot water (Japanese), someone wanted black coffee (two sons), someone who needed sweet, milky coffee with something to eat as well (Brazilian bahu), and so it went on. There were still some sleeping bodies that were unaccounted for and while I was wondering what to get cooked for lunch and what would be a good time to serve it, the grandchildren were ready for their mid-morning snack.

Household helpers also needed days off to handle their own Diwali rituals and the latent Hindu in me drew a firm line at any non-vegetarian food, much to the foreigners’ disappointment. Ah, let us not forget kind neighbours dropping in with sweets and a visit from two nieces and their families while the Pande Circus was in town. Three days of this and I was seriously on the brink of a breakdown. Next year, I’m going to head for the hills and a quiet resort in Kumaon to celebrate my Diwali.

Jokes aside, we have all succumbed to the allure of the market forces that fuel this insane buying and spending spree. Instead of a cosy time with one’s dearest family members, we are all more concerned with buying whatever is said to be bought on such occasions. In the old days, it was enough to buy a small vessel or even a spoon on Dhanteras, now nothing short of gold or silver will do. Newspapers and digital portals such as Amazon and Flipkart draw your attention to the marvellous sales offers (valid just for a week or a couple of days) on household goods, fancy kitchenware and tableware. Sweet makers offer a bewildering choice of barfis and laddoos, chocolates and cakes all neatly packed and ready to be delivered at the click of a button. As for fruits and dry fruits, choose from Californian almonds to Chilean walnuts and what have you.

For pensioners like us who grew up on home-made sweets, kheel-khilaunas and batashas, these new makeover festival rituals seem an outrageous waste of money. I can see that we no longer make sense to a generation that has long abandoned their faith and accepted the new religion of consumerism. Eat, drink and be merry makes much more sense to them as a philosophy to follow.

While this may hold true of the successful millennials, think of those who are on the margins of poverty and hunger. Or of those whose countries are being torn asunder by civil unrest and aggressive megalomaniacs. Think of those who may have no homes left if sea levels rise to submerge whole island countries. The rich will party on while a third of the world will slowly sink into sub-human existence. Scenes from Africa that I catch occasionally on my TV screen leave me shaken and helpless. Does anyone really care about how the other half lives?

Perhaps, it is time world leaders called for collective responsibility to solve the problems of hunger and public anger against the senseless wars that rage on, regardless of all the self-righteous calls from our liberals against human rights violations. Do they have any moral authority left to lecture the developing world, having raped and pillaged entire regions, and then abandoned them without a backward glance? Rescuing their own blonde, fair-skinned people and even their pets was more important than helping a hapless family trapped in a Taliban-controlled Afghanistan to escape the brutal future they faced. If today Europe is in a hard place, with recession, political instability and a long winter without power looming ahead of them, all I can say is: ‘As you sow, so shall you reap.’

Pay heed to the wisdom of your faith, the feasting can wait.