The Times—they are changing

Have you ever wondered why change occurs? Is change necessary? Is it for the greater good? Is it only pushed forward by a megalomaniac, secure in the knowledge that he has the masses with him? And what about the rate of change? Should it be thrust down the throat of everyman? Or should it be encouraged, one step at a time, so that the bulk of humanity is not left lagging behind, thereby creating a new social divide and new classes of people—the “haves” and the “have-nots”?

You may well answer these questions by saying that change is fundamental to life and living. Where there is no change there is stagnation and slow death, you may also say. Every living creature lives “minute by minute” and some of us sentient beings sometimes go through life without even noticing the changes that are happening all around us. That is because, as the poet so poignantly said: “The stone’s in the midst of all”.

I am of the opinion that every human being is in search of stability and a sense of solidity. That is why most of us push ourselves to the very limit in order to achieve what we like to imagine as our ultimate goal or lifetime achievement. But do we ever stop to consider the cost—to ourselves, to the small world that surrounds us, and to the world at large?

Take India, our country, for example. The whole world knows that, in the distant past, India was an example of peaceful co-existence, for all its peoples, where knowledge and wisdom and culture thrived, much to the envy of other nations. India’s fabled wealth—not just worldly treasures, but the richness of its art and philosophy, its supreme understanding of science and engineering, its spirituality that continues to draw the faithful to this day, and its willingness to altruistically share its gifts with all comers, was what attracted the merchants and traders, who, unfortunately, were quickly followed by invaders and grasping colonizers. The rest is history, dear Reader, a tale of greed, of rapine, of aggrandizement and of vaunting acquisition.

My India obtained its freedom more that three-quarters of a century ago, but we still do not have our priorities right. We send space missions to many parts of the universe, but we care little for the overall well-being of our people. We build monuments and memorials but do not take into account the indescribable poverty that many of our fellow-citizens have to endure. We throw lavish wedding receptions to announce to the world our limitless affluence, little caring about the grim reaper who bides his time. We, the people, boast about our love for Mother India, but continue to urinate and defecate openly, all over Her broad expanse, not to mention the mounds and hillocks of garbage indiscriminately strewn everywhere. If Mohenjo Daro and Harappa and Keeladi can, even now, demonstrate to us models of clean and clutter-free living, how can we ever boast of our achievements today? The less said, the better.

And, finally, come back to that insignificant (?), infinitesimal, suffering thing—the Anglo-Indian—and think about the injustice that a child of Mother India could be so cruelly, so heartlessly and so unnecessarily, cast aside. I was born an Anglo-Indian, dear Reader, and am proud to be one. But my forbears, if the history books are true, were an admixture of East and West. Am I to blame for their promiscuity.

A Holy Book advises us to remove the boulder in one of our eyes before trying to dispose of the mote in the eye of a neighbor. Sound counsel, indeed.