Wednesday, June 16, 2010

"Christ-Bearing" Scenarios in Hinduism- Part 3 of 5 (Harischandra)

I've been putting this off for a long time. This story is tough to capture in words because I don't fully understand the context in which the story is placed. I do not understand what necessitated his supreme sacrifice and how he could place the burden of this sacrifice on his family (even if they may have willingly accepted it). It illustrates some events that are a shadow of Jesus' sacrifice, I can see that. It is also strangely resonant of my difficulty in comprehending the crucifixion. In spite of many-sided truths that Christ's sacrifice offers, I find myself asking why. Why so much pain and suffering to make this possible. I can joyfully accept that I need a sacrifice to make it real to me- indeed I do not think I can see how my sin can be excused and not paid for, but I cannot comprehend it rationally that the Son of God willingly, wilfully offered himself to a gruesome death to give me life.

Harischandra's story, though is offered in Hindu traditions as an example. The denouement of his story is offered as the reward for true followers of Dharma. A side story about him that is not as popular as is the main one appears in the Rig Veda. In this story he prays for a son to Varuna, the god of oceans. The god appears to him and lets him know that he will grant him a son on condition that this son will be sacrificed to him. The king is greatly troubled but agrees to this strange demand. Varuna grants his wish but Harishchandra, though in the main story a man of his word, is hesitant. After suffering long both mentally and physically as a consequence of his hesitation, he arranges to make a substitutionary sacrifice with another man's son. This is not a very happy ending or creditworthy story. It is often the case with the Hindu scriptures that references to a king's name could mean different people with the same name or that the stories are crafted to favor patrons, usually royals who were predisposed to certain views on the subject. This story is so out of line with the main story that one cannot resolve the dissonance.

In the main story, appearing in two puranas, both presented as a dialogue between a sage and his disciples (different sage and disciples in each), this man was the 36th king of the Suryavanshi ('Of the Sun') royal family ruling over (presumably) Northern India from his headquarters in the city of Ayodhya. The king prided himself on being a man of his word. He hated deceit and lies.

Harishchandra loved to hunt (clearly vegetarianism was not the norm for this Kshatriya), and on one of his expeditions to the woods, he heard a strange cry for help. As he rushed in the direction of this call he inadvertantly ran into the sanctuary of the ill-tempered priest Viswamitra who was in prayer. The sage was incensed at the king's intrusion and as was his wont on such occasions was about to dispense with a terrible curse, but the king fell at his feet and begged for mercy. Viswamitra realized that an evil spirit may have tried to disturb his prayer and used Harischandra for its purposes. Harischandra promised to give the sage anything he asked for in return for forgiveness. (See where I lose context? I'm not sure of the reasons why a king would make such a tremendous promise in return for appeasing a sage. Of course, one hears of phrases like 'Even unto half my kingdom', but surely made in jest. In the Hindu tradition, these words have literal meaning. But clearly Viswamitra- a man with a troubled past and a fearsome reputation- was not someone to be trifled with. The temporal monarch bows before the sage, an acknowledgment of the illusory nature of wealth).

Harischandra, as he had in the previous occasion with Varuna, went back to his palace and soon forgot the incident. Viswamitra though, was a man who kept a record of such encounters. Indeed his history shows a bent of mind that seems predisposed to exacting a price from his rivals. One day the sage went into the king's court and demanded that he kept his promise. The king asked him what he wanted, to which the man said, 'Your entire kingdom- immediately.' The king had no choice but to keep his promise. He called his wife, Queen Chandramathi (known by several names) and son Rohitashwa together and left his kingdom, seeking refuge in the city of Varanasi, which was dedicated to Shiva, and therefore outside Viswamitra's sphere of influence.

This did not stop the sage from demanding even more from the king. He demanded that the king pay him a dakshina- a sum usually paid voluntarily to sages for the services they rendered. At this point Harishchandra had nothing to give except literally the clothes on his back. To pay this sum, he decided to sell himself in the open slave market. However as he had grown skinny in the months in exile (without much food and water) noone would buy him. Out of desperation he asked his wife if she could put herself up for sale. She was sold for 500 gold coins to a Brahmin. His son, Rohitashwa, was heartbroken to see his mother go, so he ran after her and begged to go with her. The Brahmin agreed to buy him for another 250 gold coins. The entire sum he gave the sage, who was not impressed. He demanded that the king pay him another 250 coins to fulfil his dakshina.

At this point he sold himself as an assistant to a grave digger (which was among the lowest of jobs performed by the lowest of castes) for 250 coins. A few days later, his son died of a snakebite. His mother sorrowfully brought the corpse to the crematorium for his last rites. Harishchandra too was heartbroken. At this point he asked her for a fee to cover the son's last rites but Chandramati had no money. The king then asked for her garment (her only one) to pay for this. (This cannot be squared with my understanding of Indian history or propriety- the whole context seems clouded with myth at this point). Shocked but equally compliant of duty and honor as her husband, Chandramati begins to disrobe, but is stopped by the sage Viswamitra who appears to the couple at the grave site and tells them that this was a test which they both passed. The sage let them know that he would now offer the Harishchandra's kingdom back. A pantheon of deities appear at the scene, bringing the dead Rohitashwa back to life. Due to their steadfastness, Harishchandra and his family were promised the reward of entering heaven at that instant but the king refused to go without his subjects. He asked the gods for his subjects to be placed in heaven alongside them, but the gods explained that his subjects were subject to individual Karma. At this point the king requested that his righteousness be imputed to his subjects (my words here), so that they could go to heaven even if he could not. At this the pleased gods opened up the gates of heaven to the royal family and to all their subjects.

All the similarities to Abraham, Job and Jesus not withstanding, the king's superhuman strength of character and the incomprehensible context cloud this story for me. Many Indians, like Gandhi, found this tale inspirational. To me it is not so much inspiring as it is dumbfounding. For a person who sees this story literally and rationally, it cannot be of much merit. To get at the heart of it it has to be narrated in terms of the fear that kings had for powerful sages, the reputation that kings needed to keep up, the ignominy of dishonouring one's word (for which a king was prepared to die), the reality of the caste system and slave trade in India, the place of the woman in ancient India (which as the story illustrates, was both elevated because her modesty could not be transgressed without both terrible temporal and eternal punishment, and secondary to the status of a man, as the instance of the king asking Chandramati to be sold tells us) and the incredible thinking around sin, guilt, penalties, payment and so on which the Hindu tradition grapples with- but cannot resolve using the resources at hand.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Visitor: Movie Review

I watched the movie 'The Visitor' sometime ago. After this I read some of the review on this movie. They were all glowing tributes. I was impressed but puzzled by some premises in the movie.

My first question on watching it was if there was any political message in reality in the story. It was made in 2007 during the Bush administration, a period in which filmmakers of a liberal political bent created some very good movies. This one, which tells the story of how Tariq, an illegal immigrant from Syria, a political refugee, came to be deported, tugs at our heartstrings for what it means to him, his girlfriend, his mom and his new friend, widower Professor Walter Vale. It tells the story poignantly, but one is left wondering if there really is any strong admonishing for policymakers who tackle immigration, besides the fact that they (and everyone else in the US) need to show kindness to the alien and the refugee among them. Tariq is eventually deported due to existing immigration laws- the movie does signal the need for change in these, but I'm not sure if it is actually arguing for a relook at the policies with regard to political refugees only. Tariq is a political refugee but I think the movie wants to create a case for a relook at all refugees- economic, political and any other kind. I do not think it creates the case. USCIS officials are portrayed as they are in reality, employees who do their job and may not necessarily be aware of the circumstances of every person they deal with. I know this from experience- from trying to get the status updates on petitions for legal immigrants or people awaiting legal immigration status. I have lost money that I paid upfront to this agency and after they acknowledged the receipt of my petitions they simply lost the petitions and dropped the ball. This portrayal is accurate. The bureaucracy is stifling and long overdue for a radical revamp. Beyond this the movie takes no swipe at any administration or laws.

The movie does portray the sad state of those immigrants who are detained. It is almost as if civil liberties do not apply to them. This must engage our attention. Ultimately the thorn is America's side when we talked about our freedoms may be our failure to care for the marginalized, primarily those cannot afford to fight for basic rights. Laws cannot be different for them from those of us who are privileged.

My second question was, who is the 'Visitor' in the movie? Tariq and his girlfriend are illegal squatters in the professor's apartment in the movie. After his initial shock in finding them there (he returns to his New York City apartment after a long gap), he eventually lets them stay on, shows them more than hospitality, becoming their friend and helper, hiring them an attorney to help them in their plight. He too benefits from this relationship, learning how to play the djembe, finding a release from his bereavement from his wife's death. In a scene, the professor takes Tari's mom and girlfriend to Ellis Island. The mom asks him if he's been to the Statue of Liberty before and he says he hasn't. The girlfriend lets him know he and Tariq often went there, and in the boat Tariq liked to jump up and down on seeing the statue, pretending as if he were coming to America for the first time. This begs my question, who is the real visitor. Those who are born into liberty often tend to lose real freedom by keeping themselves from all that is implied by freedom. Tariq and the other refugees though are fully alive to this liberty and through their music, hard work, strong relationships, social intimacy and genuineness, keep its spirit alive. The professor seems to be a newcomer and therefore a visitor to this liberty. He is the one coming into his apartment after a long gap, like a long lost acquaintance. The squatters are about to leave, but the professor shows them kindness.

This may be the movie's lesson. In the end the professor (in a very understated and convincing performance) tries his best but there are limits to his powers of persuasion and influence. Though he fails he has won the hearts of his friends. As a Christian I think the movie encourages us to take a look at what the Bible has to say about this topic. Here are some verses:

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 – “For the Lord your God...loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Deuteronomy 24:17-18 – “Do not deprive the alien or the fatherless of justice, or take the cloak of the widow as a pledge. Remember that you were slaves in Egypt...”

Matthew 25:31-46 – “...I was a stranger and you welcomed me.”

Ephesians 2:11-22 – “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God.”

There are reminders in both OT and NT that not only are we to show kindness to aliens, but we ourselves are aliens in this world or have been aliens in another country. There is a sense in which we need to seek liberty by being like aliens, because true liberty does not come from this world.

Remembering Miriam Devassy, 1909-2010

Alma's grandma, Miriam passed away a few hours ago in India. She was 100 years old and if she had lived until August, would have turned 101. She leaves behind a host of descendants from 7 kids (out of a total of 9 that she had, 2 died early). In December this her first great great grandchild would be born.

She remained healthy until the end. My parents visited her two weeks ago and she spoke to them well. The past week she had been feeling weak, had a stroke and refused to eat much food. Early this morning she died as her daughter in law (Alma's mom) watched her pass quietly. While all her children had lived with the knowledge that this could happen any time soon, and had prepared themselves, we are faced with the length of time that has passed since she came into this world. 101 years is long enough, but for her small village in Southern India it is several centuries. The village has changed into a busy town since then. Pictures of rural Kerala in those parts from 1909, the year of her birth, are startling. There were no electric lights, no vehicles, no paved roads. Noone spoke English, very few were educated, noone knew much about the outside world, India was part of the British empire, but this part of India had likely not seen any white faces.

She delivered her firstborn, Michael in 1932, at the age of 23. Michael passed away recently as well. His mom outlived him by a few months. Today in this town, real estate prices are higher than they are in Aurora, and being close to Cochin, which is the landing point for the submarine cable system which connects India to the internet, the area is close to an international airport, several huge campuses of IT companies like Wipro and IBM. Nearly noone in her town could read or write in 1909, today the town is 91 percent literate.

So with her passing it is as if a page has been turned. Her children, with many petty squabbles, now find themselves prepared for her passing but unprepared to 'mature' in a way, to act like the leaders of their generation. Miriam had a husband who was an alcoholic. She was very busy feeding the kids and managing the household. Being uneducated herself, she couldn't impart to her kids the skills they needed; but contrary to modern sociological observations that deem a home like theirs unsuitable for raising kids, all the kids worked their way up the local school and the majority became wealthy beyond all expectations. Alma's dad, a gold medallist lawyer, an aunt a respected pediatrician in Michigan, another a Homoeo doctor, another one who had a successful career in B2B sales, and as is common in Catholic families in Kerala, a priest who heads up a parish close to the town of his birth.

She organized the house in often ingenious ways. Alma let me know the other day that the family grew up in poverty. Their house was situated close to a government run school. She let the kids from the school empty their leftover lunch into a part of their backyard with which she fed their animals- cattle, fish (in a large pond) and poultry. Until their ancestral home (which still stands) was sold she kept working day in and day out, cleaning, scrubbing, cooking, sweeping, tending. Her husband, with his alcohol problem, could not have been a good influence on the kids- indeed all the male kids have this same problem. Indian society which rewards merit and is highly stratified, compels kids to study. This factor, in addition to Miriam's example of hardwork, may have likely spurred the kids to do better than degenerate. This stands as a contradiction to modern trends in cities, but from my own family's experience and others in Kerala, I can say that it was not uncommon. Nearly everyone was poor, and nearly everyone went to school and achieved some measure of success- even if it was only a high school education with perhaps some technical training for factory work.

Miriam had a rich life. She spent her final days with a daughter in law who may have been her least favorite, but also the most kind hearted. Miriam belonged to a generation that did not sound out expressions of gratitude or affection, and nor was this daughter in law interested in such exchanges, but she cared for Miriam with diligence and kept her in cleanliness and dignity. This was not easy at all- it involved a lot of difficult work as Miriam had lost control of her bowels some years before. I suspect that in their silent partnership, though, that there was comfort. She was the only one by her side when Miriam took her last breath.