About Greatness

Madhav

 It was somehow a very unexpected news when I heard recently of Madhav passing on, though why it should have been so, I don’t know, he was nearly seventy five when he did pass on. One expected anyone almost to pass on but him, somehow. Somehow one did not associate Madhav with age – he was always so young in spirit, and yet, wise in unexpected ways, unconventional ways, beyond his years, his era. He belonged not so much to his day or past as much to the future in a way very few do, and that was only one of his unusual qualities. 

 Where does one even begin remembering him? He would joke about such an idea, and insist one forgets about it, firmly. Just as he was very firm about not being photographed and about a few other such things. But this is not a eulogy for his needs – he would not care if people remembered or what they thought, he never had! This remembrance is for solace of those of us that knew him and remember. One does wish he would know how and how much one remembers and is grateful for all that one benefited from, and that it would somehow please him, but one doubts it. He did not charge the price of expressed gratitude either, for all he did for so many, in such a variety of different ways, small or very, very major, life transforming quite frequently, life enhancing almost always, life saving even, often enough, I suspect. 

 Hardest of all is to recreate the very person one remembers so well, after years and decades, not because the memory is dimmed but because his uniqueness of persona and style won’t quite come through or be conveyed by someone, anyone, other than him. That probably would be so even if he had children, for such a person in all his greatness is not inherited by mere ordinary human reproduction. He leaves a mark on everyone he ever met, in the smile they are lit up with at the very mention of him, at his memory. His choice, his preference, his lifestyle. 

 But one fact is certain, and that is, he had as much hand in my formation as anyone else, and that is saying it at minimum. If he were not there at that time, I would have – could have – no longer existed in all likelihood. This is as true in the barest physical sense as it is far more so in many other ways, for he was the sole moral and psychological support, not to forget the only one to encourage me to go ahead in doing what I wanted to do – study, – and this against all conventional practices and practical solutions that existed then or were offered for a young aspiring person to live. 

 Time and again I was cautious, willing to give in to prudence and general wisdom of the era, to find a safe anchor in a job and an apartment and so on; he went to the dreams hidden somewhere in the deepest corners of my being and said, go ahead, do that, precisely. Because he believed in this going ahead, a life of mind, and had hankered and pushed for just such a life for himself all his life. And so I found the courage to jump off a cliff and soar for the time until the next time, time and again. 

 Many men do wish for and some do achieve this – a life of mind – for themselves, and for a few of those of whom they are mentors, but more or less these are all male cliques. Few encourage women, young women, to this path, as freely and without reserve as they do other males. Extremely few, male or female of the species named human, encourage young women on this path so against all social pressure. It is generally considered as suicidal to the male species as encouraging labour to form cooperative industry would be for generic industry masters. 

 Madhav had no such worries, no such thoughts to hold him back, and in fact was one of the few men who have not only a sympathy and understanding of the problems a woman faces in a conventional life (everyone has a mother, after all, and most have reasons to therefore have such understanding if they have a mother who aspired to a life of mind and if they did not disassociate themselves from her, if they had any sympathy and comprehension) – but brought that sympathy and understanding down into conversion to helping women (as well as men, which lot more people do but not as well and as undemandingly as he did) in every way possible. 

 And in helping me, he showed a rare courage that few – other than I – could comprehend, even, fully. Much less match it. This courage is the hallmark of a man to me, man in general and him in particular. Not every male visible in human form deserves the name of man and quite a few women do, at that, if courage be the defining factor of man. 

 If I had not met him I would probably never have been reassured about existence of men on this earth - I was at a stage and an age when a diappointment and disillusion easily could take over for ever - and would have been certain of finding no way out for life. But it was more than luck and more than fortunate that he was there right at the time at the right place, and more than willing and able to not only to guide, encourage, and help, but also care. Most people would have found it easier to blame a deperate victim and side with a dangerous bully whom one could not afford to alienate, and they did, sooner or later. Madhav was alone different. 

 I have always thought of it as the very Divine giving me a very concrete proof of Providence, by sending this agent to be there for me, to care and protect and guide and encourage and everything else. If caring and compassion be the hallmark of those who are qualified to be called women or mothers or parents, he was qualified – well and well over qualified, in fact. 

 And yet he was truly a person with no ties, or as little as he could make them. His chosen responsibilities he did not shirk, towards his mother and siblings, but attachments he did not want. This, very deep in psyche, together with his very joyous style of being and congregating with friends – and he had hundreds, probably more, more than anyone I have known or even heard remotely of – and then also including women in the perceived humanity to make friends with (rather than keeping them as targets of other requirements but not equal really, as most other males do) had people rather perplexed, particularly if they were normal conventional people. He couldn’t care less, and so he saved at least one life – not merely from death but from a victimisation of a life that would be pretty close to worst one could think of, psychologically, and perhaps even more. 

 All this is giving no clue to the person as most people would remember him, a small frame man with a style he adapted (from the British he loved and admired) of a gentleman, casually debonair and friendly with those he knew, always a helping had to offer to those in need to the extent he could and that was usually considerably more than those far wealthier did, (for he kept only what was needed for himself at bare minimum,) and more than anything his ability to produce a laughter from anything or nothing, with a joke – and an insight that would startle most people into laughter from the shock of seeing something so different they couldn’t see in the situation. 

 Not for him the morbid love of sorrow and tragedy that mars many of higher intellect, nor the other traps of the vital - he was once quite suddenly and unusually livid in expressing his disapproval after seeing a then sensational blockbuster film depicting a young teenager pair as romantic sex symbols – the maker of this film ought to be shot dead, he said, and it was a Rudra bhaav that could not be countered or argued about! He would have talked that young pair out of the folly until they grew up to maturity and encouraged them meanwhile to go ahead and learn more and achieve all they could. Enjoy life yes, but on the high road, avoid the common pitfalls. Choose your own bank balance when it comes to choosing between your money and him, he once told a bride-to-be, with a startled mother (who had brought the girl to him for advice before the wedding) totally struck dumb listening. 

 That is Madhav in my memory. Always a cheer for those that could, a joke and a laugh to spread cheer. Laurel and Hardy were his favourites, as were various other films that showed a positive role model. Joy and laughter are the Divine gifts to the world, and he not only had them in plenty but was ever the dispenser of both, like it or not. And some people do think of every possible excuse to not like someone who can be so full of joy at one end of the spectrum and equanimity on the other, giving no scope to the killjoys of this world to intrude with a shadow in his sunshine. He received it and he spread it. 

 If all this sounds close to a yogic personality of some achievement it is probably because he was so without any conscious attempt in that direction in this life, in fact he would have ridiculed it and brushed it aside if anyone would have put it this way to him. He ridiculed, of course, any suggestion that money mattered less than relationships or friends or any such commonly expressed (but very rarely practiced in life by most) sentiment – and yet he personified it, lived it. 

 And yet he was no fool for all that, either, and tolerated no injustice or wrong, and had the courage – once again that characteristic of his – to stand up to any such and say, this is wrong. And then he would go ahead to do something about it within his capability. Not public crusades but private immediate action on the spot was his style, as much needed in this world of private injustices and wrongs as all the NGO’s of the world put together. And in this he was very, very Indian, ancient Indian in prescription, where charity is called "daan" which translates literally as ‘gift’, and it is to be discreetly done and forgotten, not with tax-deductible cheques to the organised religions and plaques to declare the names. 

 I wish I could convey to him how much it all meant, that I am and always have been aware of what it meant to my existence and formation to have had his acquaintance, friendship, and more, but he knew then, and knows even more certainly so now, now that the soul is no longer bound by the means of communication when in body. 

 If this is all too eulogising, that is probably because this is a eulogy. It is commonly said that no one is perfect and the best, the greatest of people have qualities that are opposite to the general great and beautiful picture, and sometimes courage in one arena does not extend to another, even important field, nobility and generosity of one sort does not prevent petty cowardice in another direction, and consequent injury to someone. Public heroes are often private tyrants and cowards, and this sort of contradiction does not negate the good that is there any more than it makes up for the negative or lacking in the same person. And, too, a person may change for better or worse, and those who can do progress by learning. Those who are more conscious of an image for the public stay little in fear of having a smallness exposed. 

 He was firm about some of his needs or ideas or characteristics as most of us are and one of them was his need to stay free of bonds, all bonds, always; unfortunately he couldn’t, so he had to tear a few and break away from some; and if it hurt, so it was. And while it is only natural that those of us who are more evolved wish to stay above the drudgery and nitty-gritty of earthly existence, yet it is clear that those are the very people whose consciousness reaching down to the earth is needed for transformation towards greater evolutions to come. This was our basic difference, while I understood his stance, I thought – I knew – or at least had a glimmer of doubt, suspicion, bordering on certainty – that one ought to step ahead of that security blanket stance and contribute a step towards that transformation. Ironically it was a difference that normally would look the other way to the world – does in fact to most men, for women are called weak for being more openly able to deal with and even express concerns of emotional or even practical sort, which is ironical. 

 It hurts a little that I could do so little for him, but when I remember him, I find that it was inevitable; one can really do very little for such a Vipaash, someone like him. He would have found any attempt to the contrary on my part to be annoying, probably. Even when it is probably true that no one knows him as closely or as well as I do nevertheless we had differences of opinion and temperament and he expected to be left alone if not followed or accompanied. When I think of it he might have been disappointed with my not following in the way he had probably thought out, but it was not only due to difference of temperament or nature or such natural and inevitable needs. 

 My priorities had changed, and I was no longer the sole priority of my life, in fact even my personal life, my work or career was on hold, while someone very close and very dear was on the path to dying and was more or less helpless – and I did not want to accept that, I wanted recovery and completely so for her. She had endangered her very life to protect us, and while it is expected of mothers it is a view that forgets they are human too, they are precious just as much as anyone, they deserve a life as well. She had then come to a point where she could rest and enjoy and had instead been at the point of losing it, and I was desperate to turn things around. Miraculously, I found in Pondicherry at that very moment what I needed, and was looking for through all my existence, without being conscious even of looking or hoping; and having found it began to expect miracles, particularly about my mother recovering. 

 Some time then I wrote to Madhav and I offered him the best I ever could and that must have been the invitation to share my home in Pondicherry when I first went there and was happy with the house and much, much more, finding something beyond all expectations that one has only known as an aware soul in childhood but lost touch of since; I was inviting everyone to share it and most people reacted differently, in their own ways. 

 I invited Madhav, and had certainly meant it to be indefinite, just as he had taken care of me indefinitely with no planned end in sight, just as I meant to bring my mother to live with me and to take care of her and have an open house to all those who meant to visit her or live with her. I hoped to do all this and was quite buoyant with hope. 

 Madhav wrote back to say yes, he had been there, he had visited Pondicherry, on his tour of the south, long ago. Perhaps he was as dismissive of it as he generally was of something beyond his character, and I do not mean capability of comprehension necessarily, though that might be a factor too. Many very intelligent people go with axiomatic blinders within. 

 At any rate he wrote to say, thank you but no thank you, giving no indication of whether he was aware of what I was so lit up with. At a superficial level of consciousness, probably not – at a deeper level is another story. He is one of those who belonged in Pondicherry that I had discovered. 

 Perhaps now he is aware of that, and of all I wish I had conveyed once again, perhaps he is now in that Light I then saw a glimpse of and wished to share the thrill, the wonder, the joy, the bliss of it with everyone. This is more than a hope or a certainty or a suspicion, it is a prayer for him – and there is really nothing more one can wish or offer anyone, let alone someone so great. 

 Only the Divine can reward someone of that level of a person, and we the rest of us can only hope to pay it forward.

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