Faith and Surrender

An old man and his son lived on a farm. They had only one horse to pull the plow. They were dependent on this horse for their source of income. One day, the horse ran away.

The neighbors sympathized with them. “That’s unfortunate. What bad luck.”

The old farmer replied. “Who knows if it is good luck or bad luck.”

A week later, the horse returned from the mountains and led five wild mares into their barn.

“That’s great news,” The neighbors enthused. “You have so many horses now.”

The farmer shrugged. “Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?”

The next day, the son was trying to tame one of the wild horses, and he fell and broke his leg.

The neighbors offered condolences. “Very sorry for the poor boy.”

The farmer repeated again. “Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?”

After a few days, the army came to all farms to enlist young men for war, but the farmer’s son was spared because of his injured leg.

“Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?”

The story introduces the premise of this piece. William Shakespeare once said “There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” We humans do not have the knowledge or wisdom to know what is good or bad, wrong or right. It is not our place to make judgments. Ours is only to accept what is.

The flat tire that got you late for that important meeting may actually have saved you from a nasty accident at the next intersection. But having the accident, could have led you to meet this beautiful, intelligent nurse at the hospital, whom you would fall in love with. The point is that we do not know.

Renowned mythologist and writer, Joseph Campbell says that we are all in a free fall into the future. We have no idea where we are headed, and this uncertainty leads to stress. All we need to do to transform our hell into a paradise is to turn our fall into a voluntary act. Joyfully participate in the sorrows of the world and everything changes. It’s a simple but remarkable shift of perspective.

To illustrate this shift of perspective, say you go to a restaurant and order the orange juice that you heard was good. The waitress says that they are out of orange juice but they have carrot juice instead. You can respond in two ways: complain about the lack of orange juice and that fact that it should be there since it is on the menu; or accept this and cheerfully say okay, actually carrot juice sounds good.

It is obvious which of these two reactions will leave you happier. Even a single moment of resistance to the situation causes stress. It’s not worth it. True happiness doesn’t come from getting what we want but rather from wanting what we get. Once we develop the ability to want, accept and enjoy whatever we have, then everything will make us happy. To change our perspective in this way, we can remember two simple rules: Rule No.1: Don’t worry about the small stuff. Rule No 2: It’s all small stuff.

It is not the situation that matters, but how we react to it. Mental and emotional suffering stem from resistance to what is, and from attachment to beliefs of what should or shouldn’t be. The first step to liberation is to resign as general manager of the universe. Life is God’s novel, let God write it. Letting go in this way will bring a sense of freedom and lightness.

Sure, it’s fine to make some plans for the future. Like a college education, for example. But it’s best not to get too attached to our plans, because they have a way of changing. There is a saying that goes ‘If you want to make God laugh, tell God about your plans.’

Once we let go of all our beliefs, assumptions and expectations, we will experience a sense of peace. All the burdens we have carried over the years will disappear, safely handed off to a higher power. The quality of our lives is determined by the quality of every passing moment. We must embrace each moment, and make the best of whatever new wave of pleasure or pain, success or failure, triumph or disaster that the moment brings. Quoting Morpheus from The Matrix “What happened had to happen, and couldn’t have happened in any other way.” To have faith is to surrender to the will of the divine, cosmic force that will always be a mystery to us.

The Illusion of Happyness

Happiness. Everyone wants to be happy, don’t they? But what is happiness really? Do we know what it is that we are after? Is it some kind of feeling? Or a thought?

Even the most articulate people aren’t able to define happiness effectively. All we can say is that it is a state of mind that we experience sometimes. We can’t always explain it, but when we experience it, we know that we are happy.

Recently, I heard the same thought about happiness being expressed by a Harvard psychologist, a comedian and a Buddhist monk.

Let me start with the Harvard psychologist, Dan Gilbert. He is a bespectacled academic who spoke in terms of data and averages. He explained about synthetic happiness, which is our psychological system’s way of reconciling ourselves to not getting what we want and ‘real’ happiness, which is what we feel when we get exactly what we want. His theory, which he substantiated with plenty of experimental data, is that both these types of happiness are the same. The most notable example was people who won a million dollars in a lottery and people who suffered an accident and became paraplegic i.e. lost movement in all four limbs. Research showed that six months after the incident, both these sets of people had the same level of happiness. Dr. Gilbert claimed that whether we win or lose, succeed or fail, it basically makes no difference because we can synthesize our happiness just as well. Another great example of synthesizing happiness is of Moreese Bickham, who spent thirty-seven years in Louisiana state prison for a crime he did not commit. After being released at age seventy-eight, he said ‘I don’t have one minute’s regret. It was a glorious experience.’ Dr. Gilbert gave several such examples and concluded that human beings believe happiness is something they are to go after and find, while in fact it is something they can synthesize anytime they want.

Next the comedian, the one and only Jerry Seinfeld, whose stand-up act I was lucky enough to attend live. He pointed out in his own jovial style that when something sucks and something is great, they are actually not that different. When we are enjoying a delicious ice-cream and it falls to the floor, this sucks a lot. We look up and say ‘Great. That’s just great.’ Seinfeld said that when he was single, he used to look at all those married men wheeling their strollers with babies who crap all the time and he thought such a life must surely suck. Later, he became one of those married and wheeled his baby son and changed his diapers, and thought it was all so great. When you are dating a person who digs their nose, you feel that the person sucks and you’ll never go out with them again. When you are married to a person who digs their nose, you say that your spouse is a great person and has a heart of gold. People have an uncanny ability of finding a way to be happy.

The Buddhist monk, Matthieu Ricard, who appears in public just how one would imagine a Buddhist monk to look like: completely bald, calm, smiling face and dressed in red and yellow robes. He said that people tend to chase after things they believe to be happiness, but it turns out to be a mirage. People say ‘I will be happy when I get that job’ or ‘I will be happy when I win that prize’ and so on. But when they get these things, it is just a fleeting moment. Much like the water that we think we see in a mirage that disappears when we get there. He asserted that happiness is an inner state of well-being that is not contingent on time, place, or any external object or any person. He elaborated on the value of meditation and mind training that can help you bring your mind to be joyful, irrespective of the situation or people around you. Every one of us can train our minds to be in a state of perpetual bliss.

Listening to these three quite different people who delivered what was essentially the same message in diverse ways, I asked myself this question: Can we really be happy whenever we want to? Let’s see what we know about happiness. It is a state of mind. So it is our mind, after all, and we should be able to control it. Just we like we control our hands and legs. Then surely, we can make up our minds to be happy.

So, whenever you are feeling annoyed, angry, dejected or hurt by the situation you find yourself in or by the people around you, stop and realize this simple fact. With each passing moment, you can continue to be annoyed, angry, dejected or hurt. Or you can forget all of that and simply decide to feel happy. The choice is always yours.

The Hershey's Trap

“We have a rat here,” Marvin announced, as he entered the apartment. His roommate Naveen walked in after him. They were Master’s students at University of Pennsylvania. Their rented apartment was a spacious two-bedroom place in West Philadelphia.

“Yeah, I know.” Naveen said.

“There is a rat living inside our apartment.” Marvin said, with greater emphasis.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it a few times. So, what’s your point?”

“What do you mean what’s my point? You are not bothered by this rat? What’s wrong with you?” Marvin demanded.

Naveen shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to his room. Marvin followed him there as Naveen began unloading his backpack.

“We have to do something about it.” Marvin said.

Naveen shrugged again. “It’s not giving me much of a problem. I’m hardly ever at home. I’m mostly at the lab till late at night.”

“But, the rat keeps showing up,” Marvin said. “Every time I have dinner, I see it scurrying across the floor to gather crumbs. I hear it at night also.”

“Didn’t you get a rat trap from the landlord?” Naveen asked. He ambled back to the living room, with Marvin behind him. Naveen gestured towards a black rectangular plate lying in a corner. It had a sticky-looking substance on its surface, and an upper plate tilted at an angled, ready to spring shut on the prey.

“Oh that glue trap.” Marvin threw his hands up in a dismissive gesture. “It’s useless. Two of those things have been lying around for a week, but the rat hasn’t gone near them.”

“And I also spoke to that exterminator dude who comes sometimes on Sunday mornings” Marvin went on. “He just sprinkled blue powder all over the edges of the floor and wall. He claimed it was poison or something.”

“But, this fucking rat is still here.” Marvin made a fist in the air.

Naveen went over to the kitchen cupboard and grabbed cookies to munch on. He noticed a small hole in the side of the Chips Ahoy packet. “I think this rat likes cookies.”

“Cookies? Yes,” Marvin nodded. “It is also eating our fruits, man.”

Naveen smiled. “It’s helping itself to our groceries. It’s enjoying our heated apartment. The rat actually spends more time here than I do. Maybe we should ask it to write a cheque for one-third of the rent.”

Both the roommates laughed.

“Yeah,” Marvin said, with a wry smile. “We should.”

“You know it even ate some of the chocolates my girlfriend sent me?” Marvin said, shaking his head. He frowned for a moment.

“I have an idea.” Marvin said suddenly. “My girlfriend sent me Hershey’s chocolates for my birthday. I’ll leave them on the floor inside a plastic bag. When the rat goes for the chocolates at night, I’ll be able to hear the rustle of the plastic.
Then, I’ve to just pick up the bag and the little bastard will be trapped inside it.”

Naveen looked at his roommate. “Ok, let me understand this. You are planning to use your girlfriend’s Hershey’s as bait and a plastic bag as the trap?” Naveen’s smile grew broader as he spoke. “I like it. Sounds like a good plan.”

Marvin stood with a hand on his chin. Naveen kept grinning.

“So, are you going to tell...” Naveen began.

“No, I’m not going to tell my girlfriend that I used her chocolates as bait for a rat.” Marvin cut him off.

Naveen nodded, unable to stop grinning.

“Shut up, it will work, I’m telling you.” Marvin said.

From the next night onwards, Marvin put his plan into effect. Before he went to sleep, he strategically placed a couple of chocolates inside a plastic bag on the floor, not too far from his bed. He tried to be alert for any sounds during the night.

It was during the third night that Marvin heard a rustling sound. It was soft, but distinctive. In a flash, he was off the bed and on his feet. As silently as he could, he tiptoed towards the packet. He could sense some movement there. In one swift motion, Marvin lifted the packet off the ground. There was a little squeal, and Marvin saw the brown-haired creatures inside the bag.

“I’ve got you now, you rat.” Marvin said aloud. “See, I knew this would work.”

He held the bag in his hand and looked around. He hadn’t thought about what he would do with the rat once he trapped it. The rat jumped inside the bag. Marvin could see it starting to pierce the bag slightly.

Realizing he had less time, Marvin put on his slippers and rushed out of the apartment. He raced down the flight of stairs, and out of the building entrance. Then, with a jubilant smile, he put the packet down to the floor. The rat crawled out. Marvin stared at the creature, relieved to have it out of the apartment.

He turned and faced the building front door. Then, it dawned upon him. He hadn’t brought the house keys. He twisted the door knob, but he knew that it was locked.

“Shit,” Marvin shouted. “Shit.”

He shivered in the cold and wrapped his hands around himself. He didn’t even have his cell phone to call Naveen. He looked around for help. But, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Except for the rat, who had stuck around to nibble the chocolates that Marvin had put as bait.

“Naveen is going to die laughing when he hears about this.” Marvin muttered.

He lowered himself on the ground, next to the rat. Here he was, stranded on the street in the middle of the night, dressed in his pajamas, in the sub-zero temperatures of a Philadelphia winter, while his nemesis the rat, enjoyed the Hershey’s chocolates that had been Marvin’s birthday gift.

“You screwed me again, you little bastard.” Marvin said, with feeling.

It was going to be one long night.

Rod-Man

The water tank was three feet high, and at the back of one of the buildings in our colony. We were playing a variation of chor-police. I had to chase someone at that point. My target ran away from the tank. Without further hesitation, I leaned forward and leapt to the ground. I landed on my feet, but was off balance. I only managed two strides ahead before falling.

The building compound was hard concrete with scattered stones and rocks. The middle of my left hand landed on top of one of the rocks. The full weight of the rest of my body came crashing down on the left hand. The exact details are somewhat blurred in my memory. However, I will never forget the soft but unmistakable Crack sound. At the time, I did not know what that sound was. I had an instinct something bad had happened.

As I sat up on the ground, I felt a burning explosion in my left arm. I let out a scream of agony that must have been heard several buildings away. I looked down at my arm in horror. The arm was bent at unnatural angle pivoted halfway between the elbow and the palm. The lower part of the arm looked ready to fall off. I hastily brought my right hand below it to give some support.

All the kids in the building gathered around me. They had shocked expressions as they watched me scream my lungs out. The pain was like nothing I had experienced before. My mother was alerted and came rushing out. I can still see the look in her eyes when she saw me. It was a mixture of anxiety and fear that bordered on outright panic. She barked orders to the watchman to call for a taxi. Breach Candy hospital was across the street from our colony.

“Mamma, help me.” I cried. “It’s hurting very badly.”

“ Please, Mamma, do something. I can’t bear it.” I pleaded.

There was a look of helplessness on my mom’s face.

“It will be ok, beta. We have almost reached the hospital.”

“You have to be brave now, Naveen.” My mom said in a soft tone.

Soon, I found myself sitting on a chair in the examination room.

“We need to take an X-ray of the arm.” A man wearing a white coat said.

“Beta, I will need you to lift your left arm and keep it on the x-ray machine.” He addressed me.

I looked at him as though he had asked to climb Mount Everest in the middle of a freezing winter, that too in my under clothes. Every time I moved, I felt like the arm was going to fall off. The excruciating pain validated this theory. How the hell did this moron expect me to lift it and place on the x-ray machine?

“I don’t think I can do that.” I declared.

“C’mon, Naveen. We’ll help you.” It was my mom.

“No. There is no way I can get my arm up there. It is just not happening.”

“Just try at least. You have to get an x-ray done.”

“Why is it necessary to get an x-ray?” I demanded, looking at Mr. White Coat. “We all know it is broken.”

“We have to know where it is broken, which bones are broken. Only then will be able to perform a surgery to fix it.”

Mr. White Coat stood up from his seat now and came over to me.

“The sooner we can do the surgery, the better it will be for you. You want the pain to stop, don’t you?”

I glared at him, unconvinced. Reluctantly, I agreed to comply. My mom, Mr.White Coat and I lifted my arm together slowly and carefully and brought it down on the x-ray machine. I yelled every second as this happened.

Mr. White Coat brought the x-ray and showed it to us. I saw four shiny white pieces of bone in my arm.

“The ulna and the radius are the bones that run from the wrist to the elbow.”
Mr.White Coat spoke as though he were lecturing a group of college students.

“In your case, both are broken into two pieces each.” He added simply.

“We will put the arm in a temporary cast and operate first thing tomorrow morning. Do you have any specific surgeon in mind?” He asked my mom.

At this point, my father arrived on the scene and was quickly brought up to speed. He seemed relatively calm. After making a call to the family doctor, my parents came up with a name of a surgeon. Dr. Jain was the chosen one who would be charged with the task of fixing my arm.

The procedure of putting on the cast was quick but very painful. Before I knew it, I was at home, lying in my bed. I lay face up staring at the ceiling. Every time I moved my body even an inch, it was accompanied by a sharp, shooting pain in the left arm. Movement of any kind was just not worth it. Sleep was almost impossible to come by. I stared at the fan envious of how it could rotate its blades so freely. It is amazing that a thing as simple as movement that we naturally take for granted can seem so precious when you don’t have that luxury.

Morning eventually came after what seemed like an eternity. As I went to the hospital, I felt many mixed emotions. Fear, nervousness, pain, apprehension were all there. Strangely, I also felt a sense of an impatience for the whole thing to be done with. Next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed with some injections shoved into the back of my palm. I was made to wear that dull blue hospital gown that I had always disliked. Both my parents were by my side throughout.

“Naveen, how do you feel? Are you nervous?” My father asked. I nodded, almost imperceptibly. He smiled at me.

“Don’t worry, everything will be ok.”

My bed was wheeled into what must have been the operating room. I was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. A tall broad-shouldered man wearing a green mask strode into the room, and introduced himself as Dr. Jain. In my drug-induced daze, I could make out two others in green masks. There were bright, circular lights directly above me. I was blinded as I looked up at these white lights.

I heard voices that could have been the doctors in conversation.

“Did you see the match yesterday?”

“It was a pathetic collapse. Sachin has really lost form these days.”

“I swear it. And that Ganguly. I don’t know why they still select him.”

I wondered if these were the same jokers who were about to operate on me. They clearly had other things on their mind. The room around me was becoming a blur. The lights above seemed hazy. I was unable to keep my eyes open anymore.

I woke up still in a daze. I was awake, but I found it difficult to open my eyes. I heard my father’s voice next to me. All of I sudden, I opened my eyes and saw that I was back in the hospital room. My arm had a new cast on it and was suspended from a metal rod above the bed. It felt strange. There was no pain, but I still was uncomfortable. I glanced across at my father seated at the bedside.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess. How long have I been here?”

“Two hours. But, you have been talking to me for the last fifteen minutes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your eyes were closed, but you were talking.”

“What was I saying?” I asked, having no recollection of this.

“Oh, you were rambling on about cricket and music and movies; things like that.”

“Anyway, the doctors said that the surgery went well.” My father informed me.

Dr. Jain strode into the room at that moment.

“How are you feeling? Ok?” He beamed at me. I nodded vaguely.

Dr. Jain put the x-ray in front of us. This time there were only two pieces of bone, but the x-ray showed a thin cylindrical structure in each of them.

“Those are two metal rods that we have inserted to hold the bones in place. The bones should re-generate in no time. After a year, we can take these rods out. You will be perfectly normal with these rods until then.”

The thought of having two rods in my arm was difficult to digest. I could see how my friends would joke about this when they found out. Maybe ‘Rod-Man’ would be my new nickname.

As the doctor left the room, I reflected on what had been an eventful past twelve hours.

“You will be back to normal before you know it.” My father told me.

“Broken bones, broken heart; they can all be fixed. Time heals all wounds.”

In due time, I found out that he was right. After eight months the cast came off and a few months after that so did the rods. Time proved to be the greatest healer.