The gracious gesture of gratitude

For each one of us to be what we are, notwithstanding the ‘ovarian lottery’, we owe a lot to the various people who have shaped us in so many ways. Literally, existence, through all these people, incidents, experiences and emotions, shapes us, smoothing some edges while sharpening some to make us the unique individual that we are.

Right from birth and possibly even before that, our parents start nurturing us. They teach us values, skills, the basics of life and heal us physically, mentally and emotionally. They hold us through thick and thin, navigate us through the cultural mores and so much more. Each of us usually passes through a phase of protesting, rebelling and detesting almost all of ‘parent speak’, ‘parent do’ and ‘parent think’!  This usually goes on until there is dawning of realization typically after one has children of one’s own and is called upon to don the parent’s role.

A realization that is a ‘now I understand’ moment! A realization of the impossibility of ever acknowledging or even fully comprehending all that they have done - forget about even dreaming of repaying them in any possible way. ‘Parent’ here has been used in a generic way and includes grandparents, relatives, friends, teachers and others who have hugely contributed to our growth.

Often, overwhelmed by gratitude towards them, people celebrate their birthdays or anniversaries by throwing huge parties, organising social get-togethers and/or religious function. All with a lot of show and fanfare, but the gesture or bhava of gratitude gets marginalised and relegated to the background. Can this be done differently? One would wonder.

A month ago, we witnessed a tribute to a mother who had spent 73 beautiful years on this planet. She left behind a legacy of love and caring moments for her children and grandchildren. All of 18, she along with her mother had to leave Pakistan during the partition. She was destroyed by a sense of total loss and crushed by the looming uncertainties. Overcoming all this, she went on to get married to a scientist, raised a family and lovingly brought up her children and grandchildren.

A voracious reader, her enduring and lasting love for reading remained steadfast. Her gracious children wondered as to how they could enshrine their mother’s love for reading and her fondness and affection for children and pay her a tribute. They were at it when they hit upon an idea and with full reverence and sincerity put together a nice state-of-the-art library for the Chaitanya School.

They minced no effort and all the children came together in equipping the library with the best software and hardware systems, RFID tagging and internet connectivity along with books that they collected from the world over with a commitment for continued collection of books for this library. This library thus becomes a gracious blend of the old-fashioned printed books and the latest digital technology.

The Padma Motwani library is a precious gift for the students studying in the school. At the inauguration, amid the din of celebration and nostalgic memories, sitting in the library, I decided to treat myself to the sweet joy of reading a book over a cup of tea! I found a short story ‘Sparrows’ by KA Abbas.

It was a very poignant account of the softening of the stone-hearted Khan by the simple sparrows nesting in his house. A must-read, I’d say! My mind’s eye was witnessing rushes and clips of young children in the library, perched on stools and chairs, moving their tiny fingers on the little words with steadfast unblinking eyes, as the words came to life creating a world of animals and birds.

The older children were devouring more complex plots and situations, as they read books that called upon them to think for themselves, understand and figure out the whys and hows of life. Plodding along, reading many more books, they would soon ‘Dare to use their own intelligence’, as Karl Popper said. Knowledge would make them learn to detach themselves from their ideas and view them as critically as the ones they oppose.

Driving back, I thought to myself, ‘can we remember and celebrate our loved ones by seeding and creating such spaces?’ Can we build an eco-system where their interests, love and avocations, such as the love for reading can truly germinate, grow and flourish?

The author is a Harvard educated civil servant and writer, now working in the education sector