Namaste India

 

I was delighted.

 Not just by the sight of the beautiful sand dunes in the distance and the comparatively untouched countryside which spread on both banks of the road or with the smooth, never- ending stretch of tarmac which didn’t challenge my spine with unexpected jolts from hidden pot-holes.

 

 My husband and I were enroute from Jaisalmer to Jodhpur from where we were to catch a flight back to the capital and the drive was like skimming over water. Notwithstanding the prospect of facing Delhi’s erratic mood during the monsoons and the ensuing traffic snags, my spirit soared.

 

The real reason for my euphoria had been born at a moderate highway motel where we stopped for a midway tea break and which was pretentiously named The Palace Hotel. As we warmed our hands around steaming mugs of coffee, my husband smilingly confided that the cabbie had been enquiring from him whether I was a foreigner or an NRI.

 

Well, I am neither a blonde nor do I have the alabaster complexion burnt to a lobster red which is so typical of foreign tourists braving the Indian sun. I credited it to the fact that I had engaged in lengthy English conversations each time my mobile trilled, which was way too often.  And with utmost modesty I can claim that my diction is better than most.

 

It was later, in that pensive and vacant mood described so aptly by Wordworth, that the elation dwindled and guilt kicked in as I took myself to task with a generous helping of derision. Why was I, a self- proclaimed hard-core patriot, thrilled at being considered a non-native? Was I ashamed of my Indian roots? Why had the ridiculous surmise been pleasurable and taken as a compliment? I should have immediately clarified my Indian status and not let him labour under the misconception he was harbouring. Was I embarrassed of being what I am or was I a patsy for that grossly inflated colonial hangover?

 

Honestly speaking, I have never made a deliberate effort to converse in English. It is a natural corollary of teaching the language for more than two decades.  I am equally fluent in my mother tongue and sincerely maintain that there is no language more beautiful than Hindi when it comes to expressing an emotional overflow. Which is why I enjoy composing verse bilingually.

 

But that does not go to say that we should communicate only in our vernacular and repudiate English like a pariah. I have often argued that language is a means of communication and undue importance should not be attached to the medium we favour as long as we can effectively convey our thoughts and ideas.  And speaking English or French or German in no way reflects on our lack of patriotic intent nor does it diminish our Indian Identity which is far too comprehensive and extensive to be restricted by the boundaries of language.

 

It is an identity which has left a deep mark on the contemporary world. Today we have come of age and India, Indians as well as  Indian opinions matter substantially. Be it Ayurveda, Yoga or our centuries old scientific discoveries, our imprint is everywhere and we are poised as a global leader thanks to the age-old ideology which can be summed up in the three Hs of humility, humanity and hospitality.

 

Our hospitality is a legend, some even say that it was the excessive display of this very trait which presented   mercenaries and colonists the handle to twist the equation, steal the onus of our achievements and transform us from rulers to the ruled.

 

Coming to the second aspect of humanity, I grew up in the Army where religious rituals invariably concluded with the line ‘Vishwa ka kalyan ho, praaniyon mein sadbhavna rahe,’ which translates into ‘let there be peace and prosperity in the entire world. Let men practice empathy and brotherhood.’ And another one which went along the lines, ‘Prithvi Shanti, Antariksh Shanti, Vishwa Shant….’ meaning ‘let there be peace not just on the Earth but in all the worlds which exist in the entire Universe. What an amazingly selfless and all-encompassing humane, philosophy!  Vasudhava Kutumbakam or “The World Is One Family" is rooted in the Upanishads and it is this very concept that has inspired us to send humanitarian aid to all corners of the globe, including earthquake ravaged Turkey, knowing fully well that it is a nation which continues to block our ascendence as a global force. And we sent assistance without being asked for it.

 

The biggest USP of the Indian way of life is that it has been relevant through the ages and is so even today. The practice of connecting with the rising sun through Surya namaskar or by offering water to it or by simply engaging in meditation while facing the rising sun has never been more pertinent than now when every second individual is diagnosed with Vit D deficiency. 

 

Our rituals of feeding crows and cows, worshipping trees and rivers, respecting divinity in all living creatures and worshipping Nature is something the rest of the world has realised only after interfering with and disturbing the complete ecological balance. No other ancient philosophy, western or eastern has propagated the need for conserving the Earth with the same urgency.   What is now being advocated through terms such as go-green, sustainable development or biodegradable has been our accepted way of life.

 

Unfortunately, in our blind race to emulate the West, we have lost some of our guiding principles which made so much good sense. Recently, I received a forward on WhatsApp exonerating  the Japanese tradition of bowing down and then slowly approaching a meal, even during high-end convocations and on multi-national forums. Indians have been taught to revere food from eons. Food was first offered to the Almighty and then acknowledged with bowed head and folded hands. Only then could one partake of the meal. We don’t need the Japanese to teach us that but we can definitely learn from them to hold on to our traditions firmly under all situations.

 

And speaking of our indigenous lifestyle brings me to the beautiful practice of greeting everyone with folded hands. Something which was lauded and adopted across the seas during the pandemic when contact became contagious.

 

Recently at the IGL airport, a foreign national walked up to me with hands folded in a namaste. I responded with a chirpy hello and extended my hand. She smiled and complimented me on my dress saying she loved the pastel hue and the loose, flowing lines.  We got talking and it turned out she was an Italian who was travelling through India with her family. Since we both had toured each other’s countries, we exchanged notes for as long as time permitted and then went our ways.

 

Once I was airborne, her smiling face and the way she had gracefully approached me with bowed head and a namaskar, came back to me. Why had I never realised before that our very own namaste was such a unique and elegant way of greeting someone? Far better than the meaningless ‘hello’ which can range from an enquiry to being polite, rude or downright belligerent. On the contrary a namaste can only convey courtesy and respect. After all, it literally means, ’I salute the divinity within you.’

 

 I promised myself that from that moment onwards it was goodbye to Hi’s and Hello’s. For me it was going to be only namaste, even at the risk of being labelled archaic. As the aircraft left the ground, I thanked my Italian friend for reintroducing me to my Indian identity.