Travel
Reciprocating Alexander: Musings of a Sikh in Athens
Part Two
Dr. BRIJ PAL SINGH
Continued from yesterday's Part One ...
Those who have somehow managed to escape from the troubles in Punjab and arrive here only to shed their faith and identtity, may appear to be 'enjoying' the 'pleasure' for some moments. I do
not know, but I do know, and most of them agree with me voluntarily,
that they have permanently ruined their health and happiness. Spiritual
bliss is beyond their imagination and reach.
In order to be a
true Sikh you have to be a good citizen. Which country would object to
have such residents? A Sikh as a Sikh is more welcome anywhere and
perhaps lives happier in oreign countries.
This is not to
say that one does not face 'problems.' There are two sides to the
question. We have to define the word 'problem' first. If others look at
me with curiosity and a question-mark, is it a problem? I can address
and face such a situation in two ways. One is to feel embarrassed and
depressed. Then it is a problem. The other way is to take these looks
as an opportunity for self expression and a step towards social
introduction. Then, the same strange looks are not a problem but an
asset!
A 'problem' after all, is determined by my reaction towards events , more
so my psychological fear. At least I have never felt this sort of
problem or fear. I often wave my hand in a friendly gesture to curious
eyes and get in return beaming smiles and hands waving back from little
children, young boys and old people alike.
Of course, in the course of an actual discussion, one has to be bold, forthright and without any sense of inferiority.
A lady once asked me at a
shop, "Why do you keep hair? It must be too ot with them during summer, especially in India."
I
said, "Why don't you replace your skirt with mini-shorts as young girls
do in America? Athens is surely hotter than New York!" She thought for
a few moments and then said "Why should I remove my skirt? It is a part
of my dress. And it is my national custom. And I do not feel as 'hot' as Americans do".
Calmly,
I replied, "If you have the rightful claim to keep a
part of your dress, have I not to keep a part of my being? And I do not keep hair, they are there!
Just as my eyes and nose. If you do not feel 'too hot' to cast off a
part of your traditional dress, why should you expect me to feel "too
hot" to remove a part of my body merely because others have removed
this part for fashion or convenience or, may be,without any
understanding. It is an exclusive outer sign of my religion. In
case you have the time and patience to study, you shall know that
unshorn hair is much more than a dress or a symbol."
The other
aspect of the 'problem' is the practical difficulty of finding a job or
adjusting to the environment of law and common regulations in a land
where ignorance rules on the other side. This is a situation where perseverance is tested. But I faithfully believe that after the initial testing period, the Guru with His divine grace sees us through.
God save me from ego, but I did have one such experience. With an
assured four year scholarship, I did not have to face the problem of
finding a job, but the keeping of my 'kirpan' in Athens was legally
objectionable. I was warned about it by some Greek friends here ithin a few days of my arrival.
My
people at home in Punjab, to my great dismay, suggested that I need not
be 'very rigid' and 'fanatic' about it. I asked the Indian counsellor
(who happened to be a Greek) to give me a certificate that 'kirpan' is
a necessary symbol of my religion. He neither knew about it nor did he
understand. He tried to argue a little by saying what would it matter
if I did not keep it.
It took me less than two minutes to make
him act. I said that the law allows freedom to adopt and practice the
religion of one's choice. No person and no law have the power to question
the necessity of the beliefs of another religion.
He forwarded
my application to the Indian Embassy at Belgrade from where, by the
grace of God, a certificate did arrive in due course. Then I met the
Chief of the Athens police service after one of my professors had
helpfully introduced me to him. The police chief said that whatever the
particular case, the law here would not allow one to go about with the
'Gatra' and 'Kirpan'.
My face conveyed my feelings. He added, "What would you do now?"
I
had, in fact, already made up my mind and I had conveyed to people at
home as well. I promptly said, "I shall take the first plane available
to go home." He was visibly surprised. He tried to dissuade me, "Do you
know that you are one of the five persons selected for this nternational scholarship meant for all Asian countries; are you refusing the scholarship?"
I replied a little more firmly, "I am rejecting the scholarship as well as the country."
He thought for a few seconds. Then there were telephonic consultations with some other authorities.
He
smiled at last. "We do not want to lose a research scholar, especially
one like you. You will continue to have your way and I have taken
personal responsibility against any misuse of your weapon."
Feeling greatly relieved, I thanked him profusely. Then I showed him my 'kara' and explained that with a 'kara' on my wrist, I am already under the love bond of my Guru and cannot misuse my weapon, body or mind.
He felt pleased. The man became my friend during the course of my stay.
A pain lurks within me. Why do I have to be treated as an exception?
It reminds me of a similar incident in the Rajasthan State Assembly where I was disallowed to sit in the visitors gallery because of my 'kirpan', even though I was a gazetted officer of the same state government. Later at the personal discretion of the Speaker, I was admitted as an 'exception'. [Imagine, in my own country! Which is what it is today because of the Sikh kirpan!]
I reflect now and believe that one becomes an
'exception' and a difficult case, because most of the times, so many of
us bend too easily for personal convenience.
But sometimes there are
pleasant surprises.
I was to go through a medical examination in a
state hospital. As I entered the room the doctor-on-duty shot at me a
question, "Are you a Sikh ?"
He had recently attended an
international conference in India and visited Harimandar Sahib
(Golden Temple) at Amritsar, where Sikhism was explained to him. He
would not believe me until he had physically seen and counted himself
all my five 'kakkaars'. He then showed the same to a group of doctors
and explained to them their symbolic value.
The young here in Greece, as
elsewhere, are not religious minded. For them socialism seems to be the
future hope of a just society. I live in a hostel with these young
people. My daily prayers and reading from the Guru Granth Sahib
(sehaj paatth) within the hostel room (I had taken care in India that my
Guru accompanies me) and some of my ideas on national economic
organization perplexes them.
When I explain at length, they agree that Sikhism is a "Kaliethriskeia" - a good religion.
A
brother-like Muslim friend of mine introduced me once to another
person, saying: "For my purposes, he is a Muslim."
A staunch orthodox Christian friend, who is going to become a priest in a couple of months, introduced my religion to another priest as, "It is very similar, indeed very near, to our own religion".
Sikhism is now known
all around where I live.
I have not yet been to any other
European country. My teacher in a college at Chandigarh, Punjab, where I helped
him in translating 'Pinnochio' into Punjabi had then fired my
imagination to go to Italy. My Guru's grace has been with me in Greece.
May be Greece is an exception. I do not know. I have my wishes and
plans to visit some East European countries. These are the ountries where Sikhs are rarely known or seen. Ah! the Grace of God is everywhere, even where He is not believed!
I
have realized the value of Sikhism, its form and content, often with
tears flowing through my eyes to my beard. Something constantly pricks
me. I realize my feelings too well. Let me express it in a few words of prayer:
"Guru Ji, make me really live the life of a true Sikh till my last breath. Let me be that good at least which others think me to be."
[The author, Dr. Brij Pal Singh, was in Athens from 1977 to 1980 on a doctoral study. He worked as Professor of Economics from 1984 to 1996 at Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie, which trains the top administrators of the Government of India.]
Courtesy: BookPalz
January 28, 2010