The Brotherhood

Sometimes I go walking in "town park," Faridabad's central park, with Rakesh and two of his buddies, Nagesh and Huda sahib. Being a walk, it is a perfect time to talk about the previous days happenings and let loose of any stress that may still be bottled up inside. For me, the topic often swerves to things Indian and the experiences that I have yet to untangle.

One day, as we were done with our walk and in the car for the return ride back home, the conversation turned in the direction I wanted. I believe I started out by complaining about the whole tardiness thing. Perhaps it was tardiness, perhaps it was corruption, it should have been corruption because the explanation that followed was eye-opening enough to warrant a equally lofty complexity, but in all honestly, there is not much one needs to say to inspire Indians, or probably all South Asians, to pour out their opinion on you. Nagesh is no exception, and in providing his succint and clear explanation of all that was puzzling to me about India, he secured my enlightenment not far from being obtained. He said,

"See, Rishi - Indian people don't care about the law. We are not western, we are a brotherhood. If my friend is in trouble, and he needs my help, I will help him, even if it against the law, because the law is not more important than friendship." His point, Indians are not western, they are a brotherhood. They do not have the same sense of law, the sense that an ideal can reign more supreme than friendships, your family, and perhaps even more supreme than God.

Being a westerner myself, and a liberal one that is very deeply steeped in the ideals of fairness and the scales of justice, it was quite difficult to wrap my mind around that concept, no, not difficult to comprehend it, but difficult to accept it, my gut reaction was - "How can there be any fairness, anything good, without law???" It is hard to explain how deeply I believe in this, in a concept of right and wrong and a way to make peace a product of that value system, something that inevitably, is culturally based. But I knew it was time to listen, I knew that in my reaction, though I could convince myself of otherwise if I really tried, I would be missing something essential and would always remain far from my goal of really understanding Indian people and their culture.

Rakesh immediately agreed with Nagesh's statement, his jolly manners and consistent doses of warm-heartedness throughout my stay are testament to it's truth. But this concept, hah, a concept - no, this feeling runs deep. Nagesh mentioned it two weeks ago, but reading E.M. Forster's "A Passage to India," and looking back on my 5 visits to India and my experiences here, I can only agree with it more and more. In fact, it's like - excuse the crude simily, but it's like gravity, unseen when looking at the world, but completely necessary for holding everthing together, and essential for the planets steady rotation, not moving forward, not moving backwards, but always moving, keeping everything together in a very fine balance, to quote Rohinton Mistry. The brotherhood is to modern India what gravity is to the solar system.

I believe, if an Indian has a choice between leaving a friend rudely or being late for an appointment, they will be late for the appointment. I also believe, that though I have to wait for the public servant who is supposed to be...serving me, for example, at the police station - yes, though I have to wait for him to finish his impromptu chai time, he actually means me no harm, in fact, for him, it is the only proper thing to do, not only for his own heatlh but for his own sanity. For one must understand, the hustle and bustle of ricksha pulling, bargaining, and building houses must not be an overly stressful one, but one taken in ease, and taken in part of the flow that keeps the universe of India moving, moving, and moving.

I commented of course, I had to, being who I am, and I had to say the words, I tried not to, but I had to, absolutely had to..."What about...JUSTICE." Luckily for me, Nagesh is a sensitive man.

He replied that Indians are happy. I never would have thought so, how can people who have to bargain daily, ride through dirty pot holed roads where the oppressive heat mixes and churns the roads dust with the sweat on your skin into a blackish goo, and some people live in plastic shacks with their children a black string for clothes - how can they be happy? I didn't say all this, but with my presence in the car, he might have permitted himself to take the foreigners eye, and percieive that perhaps things didn't look so happy to an outsider. He acknowledged my non-statement, and only replied, "Well, I've never visited a foreign country, so I can't compare with other countries like you can."

With that, since the car had stopped in front of my house, we shook hands, smiled, and parted.

E.M. Forster is an amazing man. I will do justice to his insight by instead of paraphrasing, directly quoting from "A Passage to India" You can't take Forster's profound understanding of India through his novel without reading the whole thing, but I have found a passage which works a bit. The novel takes place in the early 1900s, and this section is about Adela, a young woman from England who has come to see India, and has recently hurt an Indian, and wants to write an apology letter to him. Another fact which might help in understanding the passage is that Britain often said "Indians need the British, for the administration of law and order" in order to excuse their imperialism.

He replied: 'Our letter is a failure for a simple reason which we had better face: you have no real affection for Aziz, or Indians generally.' She assented. 'The first time I saw you, you were wanting to see India, not Indians, and it occurred to me: Ah, that won't take us far. Indians know whether they are liked or not - they cannot be fooled here. Justice never satisfies them, and that is why the British Empire rests on sand.' (258, 2000)

Forster was incredible, he understood people and their emotions, their spirits, and he was incredibly, incredibly non-racist in a time of racism. It's amazing how a man can be so insightful out of choice, see so fairly and impartially, which is apparent if you read his novels and his descriptions of his characters. He does not see impartially in the way that one views people impartially before the law, but the viewed the human spirit impartially, equally, which is trying, and much more loving. More from Forster, in response to Adela's behaviour, not her letter but another act:

"For her behavior rested on cold justice and honesty; she had felt, while she recanted, no passion or love for those whom she had wronged. Truth is not truth in that exacting land unless there go with it kindness and more kindness and kindness again, unless the Word that was with God is also God. And the girl's sacrifice - so creditable according to Western notions - was rightly rejected, because, though it came from her heart, it did not include her heart. A few garlands from students was all that India ever gave her in return." (245, 2000)

You must visit India and read this book to realize the lucidity and understanding in Forster's words. He was spiritually beyond his time.

I will end with a little bit about what I got from the book, according to my own travels and my own frustrations in trying to understand people and cultures that are different from mine. Forster never sought out what was right or wrong about India, indeed, he did not see what was right or wrong about people, but described them with all their well intentions, and with all their hypocrisy, and with all that which leads them to good and all that which leads them to bad. What I have ultimately taken from the novel is that all human beings are indeed imperfect, and an understanding of that is the only thing that will let you into other people's hearts and trust. The world is not perfect, but as long as there is the brotherhood, or love, it keeps on and will keep on moving forward.