It has been roughly five or six weeks since I last offered any words. This is namely because internet connection speeds are slow in India, and because of having to pay for internet access. So, I opted to wait for my arrival to France to do a post India summary. I left India on July 6th, very early morning, and since have been relaxing in a mountainside village called Montaroux in the province of Var, about 20 minutes away from Cannes. Not a bad place to reflect indeed. I conceived of writing this post in a few parts to a address a couple distinct experiences of India. I think I'll handle to complex one first and move on from there.
Beggars
It's quite possible that India is home to the largest number of beggars anywhere in the world. So many people live as homeless or in slums, it's virtually impossible to escape begging pretty much anywhere one goes. Whether one gives to a beggar or not I suppose is a matter of personal choice, and it's a choice we in the west are seldom faced with. Or, if we are, we simply read the sign someone is holding up on a freeway offramp or intersection and make our choice accordingly. In India, beggars are persistent and often unrelenting. And they are off all ages, all physical abilities and disabilities. Women and small children alike hold little babies in their arms as they approach. Old, sickly and blind people camped out on the sidewalks, or in dirty streets, hold out hands and cups, demanding money. Full families approach you with hands extended, motioning to their mouths. Little children who appear beautiful and angelic will swarm around you with well rehearsed lines about hunger and families in need. They will grab at your hands and pockets, and walk for blocks and blocks along side of you pleading their cases. As a Westerner, you are constantly approached when in the cities while walking the streets, when stopped at intersections and traffic lights. It's really a part of daily life, and something one has to learn to negotiate.
Traveling is a wonderful way to learn things about oneself. Different contexts call for different choices of actions, different decisions about how to best procede. Well, learning to navigate Indian beggars was something I never managed to do. I often found that my buttons were pressed at a surprising rate. Little kids would swarm around my legs begging and pleading. Instead of feeling sympathy, I was often provoked to anger, to frustration. I was angry for being harrassed, angry that a nation doesn't have more resources to help its destitute, angry that these kids are likely to be the tentacle end of organized crime, angry that many of their deformaties were the result of attrocious, maiming practices that go in India. It was at times overwhelming, even frightening. One time I found myself barking at begging children who were grabbing at my pockets to get the hell away, as my walking pace hastened in the process. Who was this person shouting such things? The relativley calm and level headed self I had come to know vanished and was replaced by a fearful and angry crumudgeon. Once I was stopped in a rickshaw waiting for my sister who had gone into a grocery store. I was waiting there with all of our luggage and a rickshaw driver who even seemed to be getting worried at how long she was taking. As I waited, beggars came to the rickshaw from both sides, probably about 6 in total. They pleaded, harangued, and demanded. All I could do was sit and stare forward in hopes that they would go away and not reach into the rickshaw. By the time my sister returned, I was thoroughly rattled, yelling at her to come to the rickshaw once she came into sight. She walked right past, not hearing or pretending not to hear, and handed a sack of food to the family that only moments early had descended upon me. It was a vivid moment, filled with contrast, irony, and personal embarrassment.
Let me be clear. This is not India in its entirety, not by a long shot. It's only an aspect of India. Anyone who would not go on account of dealing with beggars is missing a beautiful opportunity to experience in many ways a beautiful place. India, even in the recent economic climate, is still booming relative to the rest of the world. It will be interesting to see how it handles its social issues as it comes into more and more means to do so. I suppose all I can do, in anticipation of an eventual return to beloved India, is take these reflections and experiences and allow them to better inform my mind and heart. It's good to discover what rattles me, I suppose. With any luck I can be in and with more grace next time.
Katie Irani
Katie Irani was one of Meher Baba's close disciples while Baba was on Earth. She was quite ill and dying when I arrive to Meherabad in mid May. While she was being cared for only a few buildings away from my father's quarters in Meherazad, no one but care takers were permitted to see her during those days. About my third visit out to Meherazad, I was called in by Casey, a Meherazad resident, who said that Katie wanted to see me and that I had to come right away. My father and I came straight over to find Katie, sick and withered, laying in her bed. It's a complex experience sitting with someone who is dying. She could not speak, at least not audibly, and she could hardly summon the strength to lift her arms. Her hair was flattened, deadened. When she wanted her nose scratched, someone had to do it for her. Sitting on either side of the bed, Dad and I held a hand each, and were simply with her. I said a few words of gratitude for being with her, and softly hummed a melody. We must have been there no more than 15 minutes. By the sounds of her labored breathing, there were a couple of moments when I thought she would pass right there and then. After some time, she mouthed to one of the caretakers that she needed to relieve herself. As she was doing so through the use of a bedpan by that time, it was time for Dad and I to leave. It was reported to me later that upon our departure from the room, someone said to Katie, "Well, that's a good way to get rid of your gentleman callers," to which she and the rest of the room laughed quite heartily. Casey and Shelly reported to me that that visit evoked the largest and most positive physical response from her that they had seen in weeks.
Katie Irani passed away four days later. To my knowledge I was the last non-resident pilgrim in Meherazad or Meherabad to be with her. The day after her passing I spent most of it with her body. I helped to carry it into Baba's room, where the prayers were recited and people offered their kisses and goodbyes. Then her body was carried to Mandali hall, where again the prayers were recited and people said goodbye. I helped carry it into the ambulance, and then followed the procession on the scooter 23 kms to Meherabad, where the body was taken up to Baba's samadhi. It was then taken down to old Mandali hall in Meherabad, where the prayer's were again recited and people gathered to pay their last respects. Finally it was taken to the cremation grounds, where moments later her body was addorned with flowers before being covered with wood and lit ablaze.
The power of love is palpable in all hearts in such times. It was full in me and in others both mourning and celebrating her life. I'm grateful to have gotten to say goodbye, to wish her farewell on her continued quest back to Baba, to God, to Love.
Now in France
As I sit now, I've been in France for 3 nights. My only real intent is to relax and enjoy visiting with my Granfather Charles, his wife Aby, and their 29 year old daughter (my aunt, funny enough) Isabelle. It's beautiful here each day. The sun is shining, there is a cool breeze and it's quiet up here in the mountain village of Montauroux. I'll be back in the States on July 14th, with stops in NY and DC before heading to South Carolina to help run the Youth Sahavas retreat for teenagers at the Meher Spiritual Center in Myrtle Beach. My trip started there, and seemingly it will end there too. There may be one or two more posts, but things are certainly winding down for this world stepper. Again, many thanks to those of you who may have followed along the way. My apologies for getting photos in late on the last few entries. I have had the time or connection speed to do it until now.
Until next time, au revoire!
Jonathan
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