Comes
any interview and one of the inevitable HR question would be "How open are
you to relocation/working in remote areas?" We often have the best
ready-made answer to this, "I am open to relocation to anywhere, as long
as I learn new things and grow along a definite career path". The hidden
intent would be something like "Yes, I am open to relocation, as I am not
very fond of starving to death without a Job!"
Very few of us get the opportunity to be really eligible to say
that yes I am indeed open to relocation; my life until now being testimony to
it. It is just a case of broadening one's perspective; adaptation is
inherent in our nature, we just need to let the process take its natural
course. The best way out is always through, and the more flexible we remain
through it, the more easy the adaptation becomes. The learning is best done in
practice, and if you get to experience these at a young age, the wisdom becomes
an inseparable part of our personality.
This incident happened to me at a tender age when I was at
Joshimath, Chamoli Dt. Uttarakhand. It was 2001 and I was a grade 6 student
then. Being a military brat, this was my fourth school already. Life would have
seven schools for me ahead. Change of school and friends was hard, and I was
learning to adapt in the hard way. From a meagre school in Leh, at
sub-zero temperatures, here I was in Joshimath, having to climb down some 500
steps to reach my school – which was relatively easy. I can’t believe it now,
but back then I wished the school never ended in the evening - climbing 500 stairs on a daily basis to
reach the main road is a terrific trekking experience after school!
One
fine day my father decided to up my learning ante and imbibe in me a learning
for life, back then! It was a casual weekend that he suddenly announced that we
are going to a nearby temple, where an annual religious ceremony is being held.
Temples had always been a place to rejuvenate myself and enjoy the sweet prasad,
until then. Little did I know then that it could also teach me life lessons on
cultural adaptation!
To reach
anywhere in Uttarakhand, you essentially have to deal with stairs, in hundreds
and thousands. The pahadi women in these parts deserve a salute as they risk
their life, negotiating through such dangerously hilly terrains on a daily
basis, in search of firewood and other essentials. After climbing down some
zillion steps that day, we saw the temple standing there with all its might. There
was a small level ground nearby, where people had gathered in large numbers, to
witness the “ceremony”! The ceremonial chants of strange mantras added to the panic
in me; they sounded scarier to me as a child, with the comprehensible and violent
vigour in each verses. The temple is after all an abode to lord Narasimha!
The devotees
had formed a circular gathering in the ground, with considerable space inside.
I was expecting a native play or drama as the crowd seemed such enthusiastic
about getting a decent place to stand and witness the ceremony. So after a
quick darshan inside the temple, we too found ourselves a comfortable position in
the gathering. Slowly the poojas began and an abnormally lean Pujari took
centre stage. The items kept there seemed strange to me – raw rice, about 20
Kgs in a big basket, big Jaggery balls in another, wild flowers and some large
knives and swords, reverentially kept on a holy red cloth! Little did I notice
then the little white sheep tied at a small distance from all this. The Pujari
was busy chanting mantras and performing strange actions. He was, unknown to me
then, conjuring lord Narasimha himself unto him! And after some time it became
visibly happening, atleast for my young mind and others around – he started
performing stunts which are humanely not possible for a normal person, unless
trained from a very early age. He seemed to be running around, at times flying,
generating loud, flamboyant and non-recognizable sounds, bathing himself in
cold water, rolling around and countless other dares! I felt like either he has
lost his mind or indeed lord Narasimha has taken over possession of the Pujari’s
body – the later thought was shared by everyone around me.
After
some time as the Pujari’s helpers brought in the tied little sheep to the
centre, I suddenly knew where this was going! The excited people suddenly
became more excited, throwing flower petals, coins and currency notes towards
the centre! It seemed to be a go ahead signal to the Pujari. In a flash, he
took out the longest sword, and in a clean strike, beheaded the sheep! The act
was just getting started as he caught hold of the profoundly bleeding body,
separated from its head and began pouring the freshly oozing blood into the raw
rice kept in the basket nearby. To add to the recipe, he then crushed and mixed
the jaggery into it. Add a bit of water and some flowers and lord Narasimha
seemed to have enjoyed the cuisine for the day. He ate the mixture with such verve,
as though he had been hungry for a decade. I still can’t explain how a human
can eat some 5-10 Kgs of raw rice, mixed with blood and jaggery! There comes
time when logic ceases to exist and you don’t feel like looking for it either.
As a
young boy, the scenes left a scary and lifelong inscription in my mind. I have
always been a non-vegetarian throughout my life, yet I could never stand witnessing
the killing process, which my Dad knew, yet here I was beholding something
which felt horrendous for a young mind to soak in! Finding sleep at night after
such an experience that day was out of equation for me. I decided to fight it
out with my father, who was solely responsible for this. “Why on earth did you
take me to the ceremony, when you knew very well that I could not bear seeing
animals being killed in cold blood?”
There
are times when you learn something and forget it later. And at other lucky
times, the learning and realization happens at the same instant that they turn
your thinking dimension upside down. New uncharted dimensions emerge and you
wonder how the truth was such naïve and still concealed from you!
“Dear
Son, You noticed the inhuman killing of the poor animal, but did you also see
the devotee’s reverence and worship towards the whole process? Did you see the
human take on a form that is just not explainable by simple logic or science
for that matter? There are thousands of cultures and traditions followed in our
country. Each may seem strange or brutal than any real fiction. But the point
is that they do exist, and however obscene they may seem, are practiced
and followed by people, just like you and me. It doesn’t matter if a particular
tradition here seems unhuman for us – this becomes more important for us in
particular. We in the defense service are always accustomed to transfers to
locations so remote, reaching there itself will be a tale to be recorded. And as
my legacy I need you, my Son, to realize the truth at this young age. You have
already been accustomed to transfers and change of schools. That was more out
of compulsion than you being open to it. Can you imagine if you were habitually
welcoming to such changes and being gracefully adaptive to changing cultures
and practices as we move around? I need you to open up your mind to accept
the greater reality. A frog which stays in a well throughout its life can never
appreciate the might of an ocean. When you learn to adapt at an early age the
hard way, it gradually becomes effortless in your later stages of life. This was
the precise reason I wanted you to witness today’s ceremony. Adaptation is both
an art and a science. Science because it is universally applicable, art because
it requires application at a practical level and requires personal skills. And at
the end of it all, you either adapt or perish. The choice is yours, my Son!”
