While the present generation is more vocal in asking ‘why’ anything has to be done, as a matter of routine, whether in the office or at home, I too as a school boy would in a subtle manner evince keen interest in knowing on some procedures and practices traditionally carried on and my mother would painstakingly attempt to explain the rationale. Once while we were coming out of the temple in our locality after ‘darshan’, she sat on the bench near the entrance as usual but before following suit, I chose to get my doubt cleared on why at all we sit there, like many others, before leaving the temple.
“Temple being the abode of God, when we come out after ‘darshan’, the Almighty, it is said, accompanies us to the gate to see us off. So by sitting for a moment, we are symbolically taking leave from our host,” my mother explained. “Would it not be better if he accompanied us like my teacher who comes with me from school? We are sure to reach home safely,” the ever recalcitrant child in me opened up.
“It is a practice based on age-old belief but the underlying thought process is to make people extend basic courtesy to one another,” she was more explicit now. “Most explanations offered are a plausible way of reasoning out on our past actions. Much comes through introspection. Better reasoning and understanding comes with what they call soul-searching,” quipped my father, abruptly ending the ‘question-answer’ session.
One evening, forty summers later, after having stepped into my father’s shoes, I chose to go for a walk after supper when I saw my colleague standing in the middle of the road lost in deep thought. The morose look on his face and the limp in his walk aroused my curiosity and I accosted him.
“I did something which I normally do not do. While returning home, on seeing the train I chose to weave and dart across the road, through the crowd to catch it. In the process, someone stepped on my new pair of shoes and the sole came off.” I listened intently, he sounded remorseful.
“My heart sank when I saw the separated part being trampled by the mad surging crowd. In split seconds I retrieved the sole, boarded the train in motion and shoved the battered sole into my shoulder bag but after landing here when I thought of going to the cobbler to get my shoe in shape for tomorrow, I am unable to trace it. Had I not chosen to run out of impulse, this probably would not have happened… ” he lamented, talking to himself and probably doing a bit of sole or soul-searching!