Swami says ‘Awareness is life’. The entire purpose of education is to generate this awareness in the pupils. Without it men and women become centred in themselves, and live for themselves only. Bhagwan teaches us that true realization is ‘seeing of all in all you see’. ‘If you can not see God in your fellowman, how can you see Him in a stone idol?’ He asks. Education is ‘expansion of love’ not its contraction. Swami has Given us a new recipe of education, and has showed us how to cook it.Compassion has never been part of a system of education except in Bhagwan’s university.
This started from a very ordinary, and sadly so, incident. Ha, it is but ordinary ! they say; can we afford to bother ourselves with such trifles ! A newspaper reported that a mother killed her children and herself driven by extreme poverty. Did it create a ripple in the minds (for the heart has taken a holiday!) of our progressive millionaire society ? But it drew a pearl of love from our Bhagwan’s eyes,
and He scripted a new syllabus for our university and school students. A symbolic intense drive into surrounding villages, predominantly poor, to explore a new dimension (and the truest) of education: two weeks of practising compassion. Compassion is the common denominator between God and man. Man becomes godly only when he identifies himself with the divine in all things in the creation. The God on earth now decided to teach at least His students the first alphabets of real education. Now for more than a decade Gramseva has been an inalienable part of Sathya Sai syllabus for true education. Hridaya has to be the seat of daya.
Ben Jonson wrote, “In small measures life may perfect be”. So a big thing, a big idea need not start in a big way. In spite of scientists insisting that the universe started in a big bang, Bhagwan says He put the universe together quietly, like a painter who puts pigments of colour silently to create a big picture, “I created the world with one word….” Compassion can start in small measures, with people we meet everyday, with animals, with environment, with the elements. I have seen expression of this rare quality in an old couple quite close to me. The gentleman takes a rikshaw (later an auto) from home in his shopping expeditions. When he comes back he usually passes on to the man 5 or ten rupees more than agreed upon hiring charges, and if it is summer, he offers him a lunch too. Not only that. He would ask the man to rest a while on his verandah before going out in the sun again. He was by no means a well to do person. He was a small school teacher who found it very difficult to support a large family with his meagre salary. But his compassion stopped at nothing. Now the lady of the house. She buys vegetable from vendors who call from door to door. In villages people usually do not buy vegetable from vendors, for they mostly grow their needs in their backyards. So people who depend on the sales for supporting a family find it very trying to make both ends meet. When such a person calls at the door, and tells her that she hasn’t sold anything till then, she buys out the whole headload, even if she does not need all that, and give her a little more than the cost. In addition, she would sometimes steal a sari from her own box and pass it on to her quietly. Offering the vendor a little water-rice (cooked rice soaked in water, a typical poor man’s fare) was never infrequent. When the gentleman died, people from four to five villages around gathered at his house at midnight hour just to be with the family, and attend his funeral next morning. When his youngest son got a good job, and wanted to offer his first month’s salary to father in gratefulness, the father went and quietly built a large shed in the cremation ground to be used by people who bring the dead for a ‘warm’ send off. And when the lady passed away at Puttaparthy about two years ago, Swami looked after her funeral entirely. Compassion for fellowmen always attracts compassion from God. That is where man-in-God, and God-in-man meet.
There was this woman I personally know. She loved to feed monkeys. Whenever she goes to buy vegetables for her kitchen, she always has a special budget for her friends, the monkeys. They would come to her kitchen window, and she would feed them in her own hands. If they don’t come on the day after she has bought bananas for them, she is upset, and would pray to Hanuman to send his flock. One day she went out to pick her sari from the clothes line outside, and there stood a huge
monkey in front of her gripping her waist ready to maul her. It was a very notorious gang leader who
had bitten flesh out of many people. There was a small crowd of neighbours standing at a safe distance from her, voicing various expressions of sympathy, but no one dared a step nearer. This women stood there calmly, and told the rowdy monkey, “Why do you threaten me ? I haven’t done any harm to you”. The monkey gradually slid down, walked a few steps away and stood guard lest any other money hurt her. She took all the time in the world to collect her sari, smiled at the rogue monkey, and entered her house.
Compassion has no barriers. It does not distinguish between a friend and a foe, a sadhu or a thief. During 70s I was working in a college in Odisha, and we were staying in an old thatched house with a walled courtyard, and an inside verandah opening to the courtyard. We used to keep our clothes of daily use on a wooden frame placed on the verandah. One morning we discovered that almost all clothes hanging there had been stolen during the night by someone who climbed over the wall to enter the courtyard. My wife was terribly scared and wanted to change the house. The next night Swami came in her dream and told her, “Why are you worrying so much ? After all nothing much is lost. That man is very poor, and needed these clothes”! Look at Bhagwan’s compassion. The whole world may hate the thief, but He had nothing but love and understanding for him. He even chided her for contemplating to report it to the police.
The new syllabus for higher education of Bhagwan’s students has caught the attention of the thinking world, which is growing increasingly aware that the most educated class is a threat to the world itself. Gramseva makes you aware that out there, there is a large humanity, basically an extension of yourself. Current education has done nothing to unite the academicians with the rest of the humanity. No syllabus, no teacher today, teaches us that education is essentially a process of self-extension. It has therefore turned out to be a process of self-alienation ! No other university has yet shown the courage to re-examine their syllabus in this light because the untempered mind is still the high priest there, and compassion the lamb at the bloody stump ! God is too non-secular, non-academic to enter the university gates !
(Published in h2h March 1st, 2011, Link : http://media.radiosai.org/Journals/Vol_09/01MAR11/09-get_inspired.htm)
Friday, December 2, 2011
EDUCATING YOUR HEART – 1
“It is the heart that reaches out to the goal, not mind”, Bhagwan says. According to Him heart is not the seat of irrational emotions, as commonly believed. It is the spiritual centre of an individual, which promotes intuition, and discrimination(vichara).The sense urges are purified here, and the ego, the feeling of separateness, is moulded to merge in the universality of God. The primary function of education, therefore,is educating this heart centre with compassion, or Daya, or empathy. Bhagwan says education is not confined to the four walls of a classroom, the whole universe is the classroom for a willing learner.
Some decades ago once around eight in the morning I left home to go somewhere within the town and hired a cycle rikshaw, a bicycle turned into a three-wheel passenger car to be manually driven by one man, the cheapest transport system for short distances within a town or city. It was a Sunday, and the town was just waking up to the business of living. I took to the road, littered with yesterday’s leftovers of the clients of many mobile chat vendors for which this particular street was well known. The clients stand around the four-wheel kitchen-cum-sales centres, fill their leaf plates on their out stretched palms, and eat the dainty dish of a mixture of at least half a dozen hot-sour-sweet items that rejuvenate their afternoon taste buds. Then they drop the plates on the road wherever they stood to be taken care of by the gods of democracy, the roaming cattle, or the scavenging street children ! People pass over the unfortunate heaps in their cars, scooters, cycles, bullock carts, on covered or uncovered feet. The droppings of bullocks and the stray cattle mix all that into a nameless paste to be finally become one with the tarred road which gradually loses its identity. Once in a while the khaki clad representatives of the omnipresent democracy raid the mobile restaurants, threaten them, take a few free plates of the famous chat and add their powerful leaf plates to the heap before performing the ritual of hitting a nearby tea vendor’s stall in order to attract a ‘pecial elaich tea’ to top a satisfying afternoon.
That street has a number of open sky meat stalls where meat is offered fresh and bloody. My rikshaw plodded through the familiar dirt and tried to speed up. Suddenly I noticed half a dozen cars and more than two dozen scooters, bikes, bicycles of all description parked by the roadside and people in their bedroom dresses, lungi and banyans, relaxing, gossiping, smoking as if there isn’t a hurry in the world. My rikshaw slowed down not to offend the civilized humans exercising their human rights. While the driver was maneuvering his rider through a relaxed Sunday, I peeped out trying to gather what had attracted the educated elite, juice of the emerging society of a resurgent India, to the street this morning. As soon as I peeped through the crowd, I pulled back in shudder, and asked my driver to hurry away.
By side of the road there was the bloody stump of a mighty tree, and stood there two half clad hefty men, one with a fearsome butcher’s knife, the other holding the neck of a poor hapless lamb between his fingers on the stump. The knife was running on the goat’s neck, and blood was dripping into a bowl placed below it. A dozen specimen of a highly accomplished educated elite were eagerly looking at it, probably thinking of a luscious Sunday lunch with family. I recognized one of them was a Doctor, some sort of a specialist, and the other a professor of Literature at the local university. Another was a deputy secretary of some govt department, famous for his huge mustache. They were eager to carry
home parts of the lamb’s body, its sinews, veins, pieces of bone, its heart…. I felt so sick, I returned
home by another road, and tried to sleep the whole afternoon in order to nurse my frayed nerves. But the fact that the incident is still visible to me, four decades later, proves how indelible was the impact of that moment on my mind.
Why did the sight affect me so deeply ? Is it because I have been a non meat-eater ? Is it because an innocent lamb was killed ? Not necessarily. Buying meat from the butcher to cook a lunch may look innocuous, but I am not sure standing by without reacting while a butcher’s knife runs into the neck of a helpless animal, its blood dripping into a bowl, and think of a delicious lunch it is going to provide, is any admirable sign of a civil society. Enlarge this canvas, and you needn’t be surprised if you see Kasab & Co mauling down people at the Taj.
Newspapers, TV channels, websites spill out every minute great real life instances of men and women outsmarting animals in every field ! They also tell us that new international standard schools are coming up everywhere in a great hurry; new universities, medical institutions, management establishments, art centres, involving billions are raising their proud heads all over the country to announce the incredible pace of education. The governments are in a hurry to aid them, academicians are in a hurry to catch up with knowledge explosion, investors are in a hurry to push their dividends graph up, developers are in a hurry to capture farmlands and green areas to build skyscrapers, everybody is racing towards happiness – my happiness sans my neighbour’s !
What has happened to our sensibilities ?
Do they have a place in our ‘incredible’ civilization ?
In a very striking judgement the apex court of India recently expressed its agony at the way even educated people refrain from reacting to public humiliation of women, allow political parties put up people of questionable characters as our representatives without bating an eyelid, and then without any qualms anoint them with power !
Bhagwan says, the heart should be the seat of compassion, Daya, in order to justify it is educated.
Therefore education isn’t primarily a provider of a living, it qualifies the kind of life we choose to live. Living may promote life, but life has to define living. But in our progressive syllabi the heart is no more than a blood-pumping device. The new priest of education is an untempered mind, and all our freedom is held hostage by it. Characteristically, however, the most elite of our progressive society worship this camouflaged tiger. All programmes in our schools and colleges are aimed at making the
intellect keener, sharper, cleverer, not deeper with empathy. One teacher of the recently opened Smt Eswaramma English medium School at Puttaparthy was recently telling me about a certain student of hers in the first standard. This girl would always watch her friends eating their lunch during the school lunch time. If anyone does not have enough dal or vegetable to go with rice, she would save that from her own lunch, and offer it to her friend. The moving thing about it is that she always feels happy doing so. Does our education promote this spontaneous empathy ?
There is another kid, a boy, she told me, who always comes a little early to school. He would put his bag in the classroom, and wait near the gate. When class one children arrive in autos, or busses, or in their parent’s scooter or bike, and he finds that it is difficult for a certain child to carry the luggage to his or her class room, he would do it himself. One day it was raining, and when the other kids arrived at the gate without an umbrella, he was found taking them one by one into the school building under his own umbrella. Another day it was drizzling when the school closed for the day, and he was found taking out his own towel from his bag and drying up a teacher’s wet scooter parked under a tree. When asked why he was doing that, he replied, “How can ma’m go home on a wet scooter ? Her sari will become wet.” The remarkable thing about this seven year old is that nobody ever asked him to do such things, and he does this quite naturally, without any self-consciousness.
Do we have any programmes in our schools and colleges to build up this precious aspect of true education, empathy ? We award medals to percentage of marks, to a keen intellect; what about a heart filled with compassion ? I personally would feel honoured to honour such a child. Bhagwan has been defining the end of education as character, and end of knowledge as love, for decades now. Character can blossom only on the ground of compassion and love, but they are misnomers now in our education set up. I remember here a stunning experience about poverty of our intellectuals. A friend of mine was a programme executive in a certain branch of All India Radio. He was a good Sai devotee, and wanted to record a symposium on Bhagwan’s famous saying ‘End of education is character’ to be broadcast on some occasion. He invited a well known professor of English, a journalist, an administrator to the studio, briefed them about the project, and asked the professor to initiate discussion. The professor interpreted the statement with quite an intellectual tinge saying, ‘Every object in the world has a certain character, so education too has a character…’ etc. Consequently, the symposium was never aired.
Mind is endowed with such power that if it chooses to lead the instruments of pleasure it may take the host down the dusk, but if it is led by instruments of perception, it may power the steepest climb to the
hill top dawn to achieve freedom from all darkness below. That, Bhagwan says, is the real education, to be free from darkness, untruth, and violence(mortality). The higher we climb, the greater is the sweep of our vision, the deeper our sensibilities to the breathtaking view of all created things linked up by an incredible thread of enlightened existence. That is compassion, and that is Daya, too.
Published in H2H, Link - http://media.radiosai.org/Journals/Vol_09/01JAN11/09-get_inspired.htm
Some decades ago once around eight in the morning I left home to go somewhere within the town and hired a cycle rikshaw, a bicycle turned into a three-wheel passenger car to be manually driven by one man, the cheapest transport system for short distances within a town or city. It was a Sunday, and the town was just waking up to the business of living. I took to the road, littered with yesterday’s leftovers of the clients of many mobile chat vendors for which this particular street was well known. The clients stand around the four-wheel kitchen-cum-sales centres, fill their leaf plates on their out stretched palms, and eat the dainty dish of a mixture of at least half a dozen hot-sour-sweet items that rejuvenate their afternoon taste buds. Then they drop the plates on the road wherever they stood to be taken care of by the gods of democracy, the roaming cattle, or the scavenging street children ! People pass over the unfortunate heaps in their cars, scooters, cycles, bullock carts, on covered or uncovered feet. The droppings of bullocks and the stray cattle mix all that into a nameless paste to be finally become one with the tarred road which gradually loses its identity. Once in a while the khaki clad representatives of the omnipresent democracy raid the mobile restaurants, threaten them, take a few free plates of the famous chat and add their powerful leaf plates to the heap before performing the ritual of hitting a nearby tea vendor’s stall in order to attract a ‘pecial elaich tea’ to top a satisfying afternoon.
That street has a number of open sky meat stalls where meat is offered fresh and bloody. My rikshaw plodded through the familiar dirt and tried to speed up. Suddenly I noticed half a dozen cars and more than two dozen scooters, bikes, bicycles of all description parked by the roadside and people in their bedroom dresses, lungi and banyans, relaxing, gossiping, smoking as if there isn’t a hurry in the world. My rikshaw slowed down not to offend the civilized humans exercising their human rights. While the driver was maneuvering his rider through a relaxed Sunday, I peeped out trying to gather what had attracted the educated elite, juice of the emerging society of a resurgent India, to the street this morning. As soon as I peeped through the crowd, I pulled back in shudder, and asked my driver to hurry away.
By side of the road there was the bloody stump of a mighty tree, and stood there two half clad hefty men, one with a fearsome butcher’s knife, the other holding the neck of a poor hapless lamb between his fingers on the stump. The knife was running on the goat’s neck, and blood was dripping into a bowl placed below it. A dozen specimen of a highly accomplished educated elite were eagerly looking at it, probably thinking of a luscious Sunday lunch with family. I recognized one of them was a Doctor, some sort of a specialist, and the other a professor of Literature at the local university. Another was a deputy secretary of some govt department, famous for his huge mustache. They were eager to carry
home parts of the lamb’s body, its sinews, veins, pieces of bone, its heart…. I felt so sick, I returned
home by another road, and tried to sleep the whole afternoon in order to nurse my frayed nerves. But the fact that the incident is still visible to me, four decades later, proves how indelible was the impact of that moment on my mind.
Why did the sight affect me so deeply ? Is it because I have been a non meat-eater ? Is it because an innocent lamb was killed ? Not necessarily. Buying meat from the butcher to cook a lunch may look innocuous, but I am not sure standing by without reacting while a butcher’s knife runs into the neck of a helpless animal, its blood dripping into a bowl, and think of a delicious lunch it is going to provide, is any admirable sign of a civil society. Enlarge this canvas, and you needn’t be surprised if you see Kasab & Co mauling down people at the Taj.
Newspapers, TV channels, websites spill out every minute great real life instances of men and women outsmarting animals in every field ! They also tell us that new international standard schools are coming up everywhere in a great hurry; new universities, medical institutions, management establishments, art centres, involving billions are raising their proud heads all over the country to announce the incredible pace of education. The governments are in a hurry to aid them, academicians are in a hurry to catch up with knowledge explosion, investors are in a hurry to push their dividends graph up, developers are in a hurry to capture farmlands and green areas to build skyscrapers, everybody is racing towards happiness – my happiness sans my neighbour’s !
What has happened to our sensibilities ?
Do they have a place in our ‘incredible’ civilization ?
In a very striking judgement the apex court of India recently expressed its agony at the way even educated people refrain from reacting to public humiliation of women, allow political parties put up people of questionable characters as our representatives without bating an eyelid, and then without any qualms anoint them with power !
Bhagwan says, the heart should be the seat of compassion, Daya, in order to justify it is educated.
Therefore education isn’t primarily a provider of a living, it qualifies the kind of life we choose to live. Living may promote life, but life has to define living. But in our progressive syllabi the heart is no more than a blood-pumping device. The new priest of education is an untempered mind, and all our freedom is held hostage by it. Characteristically, however, the most elite of our progressive society worship this camouflaged tiger. All programmes in our schools and colleges are aimed at making the
intellect keener, sharper, cleverer, not deeper with empathy. One teacher of the recently opened Smt Eswaramma English medium School at Puttaparthy was recently telling me about a certain student of hers in the first standard. This girl would always watch her friends eating their lunch during the school lunch time. If anyone does not have enough dal or vegetable to go with rice, she would save that from her own lunch, and offer it to her friend. The moving thing about it is that she always feels happy doing so. Does our education promote this spontaneous empathy ?
There is another kid, a boy, she told me, who always comes a little early to school. He would put his bag in the classroom, and wait near the gate. When class one children arrive in autos, or busses, or in their parent’s scooter or bike, and he finds that it is difficult for a certain child to carry the luggage to his or her class room, he would do it himself. One day it was raining, and when the other kids arrived at the gate without an umbrella, he was found taking them one by one into the school building under his own umbrella. Another day it was drizzling when the school closed for the day, and he was found taking out his own towel from his bag and drying up a teacher’s wet scooter parked under a tree. When asked why he was doing that, he replied, “How can ma’m go home on a wet scooter ? Her sari will become wet.” The remarkable thing about this seven year old is that nobody ever asked him to do such things, and he does this quite naturally, without any self-consciousness.
Do we have any programmes in our schools and colleges to build up this precious aspect of true education, empathy ? We award medals to percentage of marks, to a keen intellect; what about a heart filled with compassion ? I personally would feel honoured to honour such a child. Bhagwan has been defining the end of education as character, and end of knowledge as love, for decades now. Character can blossom only on the ground of compassion and love, but they are misnomers now in our education set up. I remember here a stunning experience about poverty of our intellectuals. A friend of mine was a programme executive in a certain branch of All India Radio. He was a good Sai devotee, and wanted to record a symposium on Bhagwan’s famous saying ‘End of education is character’ to be broadcast on some occasion. He invited a well known professor of English, a journalist, an administrator to the studio, briefed them about the project, and asked the professor to initiate discussion. The professor interpreted the statement with quite an intellectual tinge saying, ‘Every object in the world has a certain character, so education too has a character…’ etc. Consequently, the symposium was never aired.
Mind is endowed with such power that if it chooses to lead the instruments of pleasure it may take the host down the dusk, but if it is led by instruments of perception, it may power the steepest climb to the
hill top dawn to achieve freedom from all darkness below. That, Bhagwan says, is the real education, to be free from darkness, untruth, and violence(mortality). The higher we climb, the greater is the sweep of our vision, the deeper our sensibilities to the breathtaking view of all created things linked up by an incredible thread of enlightened existence. That is compassion, and that is Daya, too.
Published in H2H, Link - http://media.radiosai.org/Journals/Vol_09/01JAN11/09-get_inspired.htm
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