Sanctity, the 'power'-ful excuse

I have gone into a little introspective mode these days. So the few posts from hereon, that appear profoundly philosophical to me might actually show you how much drab and crap a bored soul can actually produce.

Well, disclaimer done! So here I go:

I must give you a little background behind this thought. The first time I had thought about this was when I was in Class 5 or 6 I think. It was someone's marriage or some occasion of a get-together... and like all other kids, I was generally running around with the others. After some time, seeing us unruly kids around, someone asked us to carry baskets of fruits, brass utensils, etc. --- in general things that were going to be needed for the puja, from the house to the place where the ceremony was being held (mandap, if you know what I mean). When we reached there, we came across this aunty who was perennially angry with the world. The only way she could speak was by shouting, and always seemed flared up over the slightest excuse. Anyway, once we were there, she went bow-wow-wow about why we were carrying the sacred objects, who asked us to, etc. After being suitably answered, she pointed to a spot, and we were asked to stand outside that demarcation. I was the first one in the queue. I think she had asked us to hand over whatever we were carrying to one of the priests inside that line, and then leave. I had missed this part. So as soon as she seemed to give a nod, I walked right in with my basket, and handed it over to the man. And all hell broke loose.

The priest who was to perform the puja was smiling and was ok with this. But this lady was not. I had caused the entire sanctity of the place to go for a toss, I was told... and was also suitably informed that I was no good. After being chastised to the end of the earth, I left the mandap in tears. And all the indignation of a ten-year-old kept swelling up in my chest... and had me thinking about what exactly had I done wrong. And all I had in my heart was pure hatred for the lady.

But a funnier thing happened when I was in Class 10. At the Ramakrishna Mission, as you might already know, there is a daily prayer and bhajan scheduled every evening. Inside the sanctum sanctorium where the idols are kept, a lamp needs to be lighted every evening about 10-15 before the actual prayer started. I tried very hard to go in before everyone else and light the lamp everyday, because I liked to do it. For a few days, I noticed, one guy used to come just before I came in and went in and lighted the lamp. No matter how hard I tried, I was always late. So one evening, when I had reached the temple and saw this friend coming out of the "Garvamandir", I paused and said in a very officious tone, "It is better that only one person should light that lamp everyday", hoping to seal the job for myself. But others simply shot back, "Why?". And I had no answer.

Things did not change much when I was in Class 11-12 as well. We were to get some microphones and amplifiers, etc from one of the store rooms in our school, and I was doing this job with a couple of other guys. After we were halfway inside the room, I told them, "Wait here", and went further on myself to bring the instruments out. It was funny, really, because they could have as easily done the job themselves, and I had asked them to stand just beside a cupboard, as though an invisible boundary of sanctity . It was perhaps my way of showing that I was privileged and that they had to move up the ladder of superiority to be able to step into that part of the room.

Thus, sanctity becomes the excuse for asking somebody not to do something. It soemhow becomes a tool to exercise power, and to show how important you are. And the lines we draw to make these differences are really funny --- a spot, a cupboard, anything that stands out and can be used as a boundary is good enough. It is always a game of holier-than-thou, to be able to prove to the other person that he/she is inferior, and thereby to assert one's own superiority. Which is just like the child who is bullied at school who comes home and bullies his own siblings.

Thankfully, I have grown out of this now. "Grown out" is actually a good term to use, because as I have become maturer, I have introspected and have understood myself and my emotions better. So this blog also comes handy -- to be able to articulate what I think.

Ok, now in as officious a tone as possible, I ask you, the reader who read this but did not comment, "You should write a comment!!".