Turning Points (8 page)

Then he told me that accepting gifts is not a good habit. A gift is always accompanied by some purpose and therefore it is a dangerous thing. It is like touching a snake and getting its poison in return. This lesson stands out in my mind even now when I am in my eighties. The incident remains deeply embedded in my mind and has shaped my value system. Even now, when any person appears before me with a gift, my body and mind shudder.

Later in life, I studied the
Manu Smriti
, or the Laws of Manu – regarded as a foundational work of Hindu thought, which states that by accepting gifts, the divine light in a person gets extinguished. Manu warns every individual against accepting gifts for the reason that it places the
acceptor under an obligation to the giver and ultimately results in making a person commit immoral or illegal acts.

A nurtured value system

One day some months ago, my elder brother who was ninety-five years old then, called me on phone from Rameswaram. He started the conversation by narrating the visit of one of my Indian friends from the United States. During the discussion, my friend asked my brother, How old is your house? He said, the house was built by our father more than a century ago. My younger brother and my earning grandchildren have now come out with a proposal to build a new house in the same place after demolishing this one. My friend said he would not want to see such a historical place being demolished. He was willing to make an arrangement through a trust to transform the house into a museum and library, while alternative accommodation was worked out for my brother and his family. My brother was calling me to say he was against the friend’s proposal. ‘I would like to live in the house where I have grown and lived for ninety-five years. I would like to build a new house in the same place through the earning of my kith and kin. I would not like to have any other arrangements. You thank your friend in a nice way.’ It struck me, here is a man who would like to lead his life on his own terms and does not want any help, well-meant though it might be. It was a great learning for me and I saw in my brother a reflection of my father who lived to 103 years and inculcated such a tradition in us.

A Haj pilgrimage

It was a busy day. There were people to be met; decisions to be made; files to be reviewed. At that moment, my brother’s grandson called from Mecca. He was managing one of the greatest projects of my life. A three-member team from my family was embarked on a memorable spiritual journey. They represented three generations of my family. My elder brother, then ninety, my brother’s daughter and his grandson had departed from Chennai late in December 2005 to perform the Haj pilgrimage.

This project was very close to my heart as my brother was quite old. His faith was the main driving force for sending them on this pilgrimage. Our ambassador in Saudi Arabia came to know about their journey and called me at Rashtrapati Bhavan. He offered any help needed. I told him, I have one request, Ambassador, my brother desires to go for the Haj pilgrimage as a common citizen and without any official support. This is his personal wish. My brother insisted that he would like to go through the normal process of selection by the Haj Committee for this pilgrimage. His grandson personally submitted the application in the normal process and the committee selected them through the conventional random selection process by God’s grace.

The journey was spread over fifty days covering different places and duties as they followed the pilgrimage circuit.

With him were his daughter and grandson whom I had asked to accompany my brother to support him during the pilgrimage. But my brother showed great resilience and strength to face the discomfort and uncertainties. He stayed
calm allowing his grandson to take decisions and followed his instructions without any change. But unfortunately during the pilgrimage his grandson developed a high fever. My brother took charge of the situation as he has always done when the family has faced a problem. He took charge of visiting the mosque, coordinated the food requirements and summoned the doctor whenever necessary. His grandson told me that he stood by his bedside in the night praying at least for three hours, as he remembered it. Once his grandson recovered he again went into his usual mode of quiet prayer.

His grandson started explaining to me the incidents that had occurred in the last few days. After staying in tents in Mina, they proceeded to Arafat. Arafat is the place where about five million pilgrims gather. I could imagine my brother holding his hands together towards the sky and praying.

On one of the days the grandson was coming back from the upper floors of the Grand Mosque after offering prayers. The pilgrims had to walk down the stairs as the escalators had been halted to avoid accidents. But walking down the stairs was not easy with people moving close together. The grandson was forced against the wall by the jostling of the crowd. He could not breathe properly and was struggling. Suddenly he felt the pressure ease up and there was more space around him. Seeing him struggling a pilgrim from Africa with a well-built body had moved in front to protect him from the surging crowd. By the time they reached the ground floor, the pilgrim had moved away not even giving him the chance to thank him.

The second incident is even more heartening. After completing the prayers in Arafat, they were returning to Mina. All the five million pilgrims have to travel back on that 15 km stretch the same day. Their vehicle’s air conditioner broke down and there was the immense heat of the desert. My brother refused to take water or food and continued to pray along the way. The vehicle inched forward every half-hour and they had been travelling for about eight hours. The driver finally suggested they walk the remaining distance to their destination, about a half-hour away on foot. My brother decided to take up the suggestion. My grandson helped him into the wheelchair despite his reluctance and started to help him along. They reached a place where they had to cross a small fissure in the road. My brother had to get down from the wheelchair and cross the fissure. Two pilgrims who saw this signalled to my brother to remain seated. Even before his grandson could say anything, they just lifted my brother with the wheelchair and placed him across the fissure. This time also they didn’t wait for someone to thank them.

In a place called Muzdalifa, they had to spend the night in the open. It was a cold desert night and they slept on the ground with only a mat underneath them. As they wore only very light clothing, this offered little protection against the cold. Early in the morning there was a huge queue for the washrooms. All the people who would otherwise have fought for their turn back home were standing in patient silence. In one of the queues, a lady had been waiting for her turn for almost one hour. A young girl came up to the queue and asked the woman to allow her to go out of turn.

the others in the queue let the woman decide. She let the young girl go. As it happened, after some time an old woman came and she too asked to be allowed to go first. This time all the onlookers thought after waiting for so long she would not allow the old lady to precede her. But to their surprise she made way for the old lady instantly. One has to remember that they did not know each other’s language and relied on signs. But the episodes show how even small gestures transform our lives in big ways.

Given the opportunity, love towards our fellow human beings flows like an uninhibited river, washing away all differences, was what I gathered from the narration by my brother’s daughter Nazima and grandson Gulam K. Moinudeen.

Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw

There was a call at Rashtrapati Bhavan from the Field Marshal when I was visiting Coimbatore in 2006. When I was informed of it I said, I must visit the Army Hospital in Wellington and see him. Let me recount my first meeting with him.

During the 1990s, one day I was travelling on an Indian Airlines flight and found myself next to Field Marshal S.H.F.J. ‘Sam’ Manekshaw. I introduced myself as the scientific adviser to RM (Raksha Mantri, that is, defence minister). When I told him this, he asked me, ‘Is he a good guy?’ The next question he asked me was, ‘How old are you?’ I said I am sixty-nine. He said, ‘You are a bachcha (child)’! I never thought I would meet the field marshal as a supreme commander
of the armed forces. As soon as I entered his room, he told everybody to go out. He asked me to sit close to him and took my hand and said, ‘What a president you are, when I am not in power, you are honouring a soldier.’ He was very happy to see me. Old as he was, and bedridden, his mind was still on maintaining the effectiveness of our armed forces. They had to be continuously strengthened, he said, because of adversaries and evolving defence technologies. He asked me an interesting question. ‘Kalam, can you tell me, in another decade will all the existing weapons become meaningless and will electronic and cyber warfare take over?’ This question from the field marshal was ringing in my mind and came up when I met a great spiritual leader and we discussed ridding the world of nuclear weapons. When I asked the field marshal, ‘Can I do anything for you?’ he said, ‘I do not know, but one thing I want to tell you, the status of the field marshal of the country or the equivalent has to be unique for the nation.’ This remark stayed in my mind.

As soon as I came to Delhi, I had a meeting with the prime minister for some other purpose. I told him that we must do something more in recognition of the great service rendered by Field Marshal Manekshaw for the country. That day there was a dinner for visiting dignitaries where I met the army chief and the air force chief and emphasized the need for recognizing both Field Marshal Manekshaw and Marshal of the Air Arjan Singh. Then I immediately called my secretary, P.M. Nair, to prepare a note and send it to the prime minister for necessary action with retrospective effect. The government gladly accepted the proposal to refix his pay scale consistent with his contribution to the
nation. I was very happy that the recognition took place during the lifetime of Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw.

The inimitable Khushwant

It was a great experience to meet Khushwant Singh, who is now in his nineties. I have read some of his books, and have been an ardent reader of his column in the
Hindustan Times
. Many people asked me why I had specially met him. My answer was, I particularly like books and their authors. Khushwant Singh is a great and ceaseless writer, even at the age of ninety-five. He did a write-up on me in 2007 in his column. I give an abridged version which illustrates his views, and my own, on God quite interestingly, I thought.

I quote from him because I consider it a rare honour to have had a writer like him spend so much time analysing my work and presenting my way of thinking about God, religion and what constitutes a good human being.

In giving we receive

Of course some of you may be blessed with wealth. Here I present the story of a great human being who has given freely and spread happiness in the world. I received a personal invitation which said that I must come to inaugurate the 100th year celebrations of Sree Sree Sivakumara Swamigalu at Siddaganga Math in 2007. When I reached there, I saw a mammoth gathering of lakhs of devotees to greet the seer. Also on the dais were many political and spiritual leaders. After they had all spoken, Swamiji got up without any paper in his hand and gave an extempore speech blessing his devotees. I was astonished by the scene. A 100-year-old seer, standing erect, smilingly delivering his speech, made me ask myself how he had retained his energy and enthusiasm so well. It is only because he had been giving so freely, I thought, through the creation of hundreds of educational institutions, many orphanages and feeding thousands of needy people every day. His tireless mission of service and his effort to eradicate illiteracy and discrimination through giving has uplifted many people in the region. I was moved to write: