An Indian Reality

Maya. It is a Hindu root concept probably 4,000 years old. Roughly translated, it means veil in Hindi, but is best represented as “What is apparent is not real, and what is real is not apparent.” It is both the imperfection of our senses and an illusion that is easy to get lost in. On the streets of Chennai, Delhi, Agra and Mamallapuram it is hard not to get lost in maya—this is the raw and powerful and yet disturbing image of India, the second most populated country and largest democracy in the world. People hate and love India at the same time. Walk down the streets, and you are overwhelmed by beggars and unusual smells and strange sights. Meanwhile, the Indian government is alarmed that very few people who visit India ever return, 3% exactly—a serious problem for tourism. Here on the Indian sub-continent, cut off and nestled south of the Himalayas and among the holy rivers of the Brahmakutra, the Indus, and the sacred Ganges, is one of the most diverse and unique lands in the world, with 17 officially recognized languages and a culture, dress and food unique only to South Asia. India, not Britain, is actually the second largest English speaking population in the world, a language that now binds the language divide. (Britain is the third!) Officially known as Bharath Matha, or Mother Land in Hindi, this is India—vibrant, alive, and powerful. According to the overwhelming majority religion Hinduism (80%), the purpose of life is to penetrate Maya, or this veil, and see the real life. My goal is the same, to make a passage to India and see beyond some of the horrors of daily Indian life into the resilience, richness, beauty and power of the Indian people and culture.

Our port city is Chennai in the southeast, a city still recovering from the tsunami in 2004 with over 8,000 casualties. However, I spent very little time in our port city in the state of Tamil Nadu, south India. I went north for four days to Delhi, the capital, and Agra, the holy city of the Muslim Moghul empire and the Taj Mahal. The majestic Taj Mahal and Agra Fort revealed the advanced civilization of the Moghul empire. The white Mausoleum attracts millions to a city a few hundred miles from the capital Delhi, including many Indians who love to travel. Rickshaws, small motorcycle taxis with room for 2-3 Americans or 4-6 Indians, are the favorite form of transportation around town, costing as little as 10-20 rupees, about 25 cents. Beggars, touts and hawkers are everywhere, trying to sell everything. They are tough negotiators and talented salesmen, but they are making a meager income where the Indian government classifies poverty as making less than 20 rupees a day—enough to feed themselves one meal a day. The distinct north is very different from the south, a testament to the Muslim influence and countless invasions from other peoples like the Mongols.

Silk and sarees are the industry of the south, made famous by one of the seven holy sites of Hinduism, Kancheepuram. I spent one day exploring this rich land in Kancheepuram and Mamallapuram. Our bus driver leaned on the horn as he took us through rice paddies, palm trees and temples that date back thousands of years. Here the once illiterate populace worshiped at the rock carvings and statues that told stories of man and animals, epic battles between demons and gods. In the south, the food is spicier, the colors more vibrant, the people darker, and the belief in Hinduism stronger. This is the India of the media—tropical forests and bintis and dirt roads. Diseases are rampant, but there is a resiliency and resourcefulness of Indian life. Many people choose to see the poverty, despair, and lack of opportunity, especially among the Dalits, “untouchables” outside of the caste system. But I am an idealist. Indians survive; just like they have for thousands and thousands of years.

This is an ancient civilization, with temples and languages and architecture that makes Europe seem young, where gods number as many as people. The Europeans, when they first arrived, were baffled by the erotic and sexual images on the sacred southern Hindu temples. The Victorians in Britain were astonished by depictions of aroused men and sexual orgies on the walls of temples, but Hindus worship the sexual side of human nature because the pursuit of love is encouraged. All life is sacred according to Hinduism, and life is celebrated. In Indian society, dancing at temples is a necessary part of worship, and according to belief, divinity is in everything—animals, plants, and all forms of life.

Elephants, gods, temples and armies—it’s not surprising that chess or chattajonga was invented in South India. The Vijayangar kings of South India practiced their military prowess in games that lasted as long as battles, sometimes up to 2 or 3 weeks! This great game is similarly played today, with modern rooks replacing elephants and king and queen replacing the Indian generals. Indeed, in ancient times, the mighty elephant could jump over weaker pieces, demonstrating the military might of elephants in battles old. These unstoppable beasts of Imperial India were a force to be reckoned with under the great leader and builder Raja Raja. His men herded wild elephants, not domesticated beasts of burden, but only the biggest and meanest bulls to become war elephants. Legendary mahmuts, or elephant trainers, then fed the animals arak or rice wine and attached razor blades on trunks and tusks after weeks of training. Due to their intelligence, dexterity and strength in battle each amazing elephant, military strategists presume, equaled 6,000 horses in battle.

The incessant and historical battle between Hindus, and their many gods, and Muslims and their one Allah continue, and underneath this mixed society the hatred still carries on to this day. One day before our arrival in India, three bombs went off in the northern sacred city of Varanasi in temples and railway stations, a popular destination of Western tourists. A fourth and fifth bomb were defused, but the damage was already done. 15 dead and counting; 101 injured in the attacks. The blasts were aimed at "soft" targets "to create tension and disrupt communal harmony," Indian Home Secretary V.K. Dugal said, describing the “terrorist attacks.” Parts of the city have been cordoned off, with temples as far as away as Delhi on high alert. No one has claimed responsibility, but based on the attacks on this 16th century Sankat Mochan temple known as the “Liberator of Troubles” and the timing one week before the Hindu rite of spring, Holi, or color festival, on the sacred Ganges River, these attacks are similar to previous bombs in New Delhi and elsewhere near major Hindu holidays. Semester at Sea cancelled trips to the sacred city of Varanasi, but other trips north to Delhi were deemed safe. These tensions are high in the northern part of India, which show the distinct Hindu and Muslim influences in the south and north. The conflict rages here in the disputed north, with several attacks on trains during the week across the country, but nowhere more violently than in the north state in Kashmir. Pakistan and India, two nuclear powers with thousands of troops on each side of an arbitrary line drawn on the rich, cold ground, are locked in conflict over religion and culture. The land, according to many experts, should be Pakistani, but India claims this land as part of its historical summer vacation spot for government officials and high Brahmans up in Kashmir and the Himalayan mountains. It seems that Gandhi’s dream of a unified Indian state, Muslims and Hindus living together after British rule, was a failure and eventually fell apart to ethnic and religious tensions, creating East and West Pakistan, later to become Pakistan and Bangladesh. Indeed, after Indian independence, Gandhi was murdered by a Hindu extremist who believed Gandhi was too pro-Muslim. “Hatred,” the Buddha said, “will never put an end to hatred. Love alone puts an end to hatred.”

Exactly what is the legacy of Gandhi? We visited many statues and tributes to the respected defender of human rights and non-violence, but the conflict he challenged rages on to this day. Indeed, religion is a complex mix in India. One day in a rented cab on the streets of Old and New Delhi, we listened to the calls of prayer at the largest mosque in India, covered our heads with turbans in a holy Sikh temple and funeral, took off our shoes and socks at a Hindu temple, and meditated at a Baha’i House of Worship in the Indian capital of Delhi. The Baha’is are a mix of modern religions from Persia or Iran. Similar to my beliefs, they accept the Baha’i principles including the common foundation of all religions. In the 9 sided Baha’i houses of worship like the Lotus temple in Delhi, they read from earlier revelations like the Qur’an, the Bible, Hindu Vegas, and Buddha’s teachings. They meditate for the abolition of extremes of wealth and poverty, equality of men and women, elimination of prejudice of all kinds, universal peace, and the essential harmony of science and religion. On our visit, people from around the world handed out pamphlets and discussed the 9 sides and history of Baha’i. Despite all of the superficial differences between world religions, I truly believe there is a similar heart or core to understand a greater being, something larger than ourselves, and live a good moral life.

We cannot discuss India without addressing the Indian population of 1.1 billion people, and reasons abound for India’s skyrocketing population. First, mortality rates, or death rates, are falling dramatically, and this figure now matches the 8 people in 1000 in the United States today. People are living longer and the fertility rates continue to be high, declining from historic sky high numbers. The Indian government, for its part, has tried to manage this growth rate, but most of Indian society is still agrarian, relying on human power and children’s hands—valuable economic resources. In 1952, the Indian government passed a national Family Planning policy, installing 4000 urban birth control clinics across the country, where only 1 out of every 4 Indians lived. Later in the 1960s, this voluntary policy became more aggressive with billboards and advertising showing the success of smaller, 2 children families. Secondly, most Indians also marry very young, especially girls, and these babies then have babies. Lastly, Indian governmental efforts have not been very successful at managing the population size because of the Indian preference for boys. The dowry paid to sons’ fathers remains a powerful economic motive for most impoverished rural Indians. Although the government has outlawed tests to distinguish male from female fetuses, they cannot shape the cultural preferences. In this diverse and different land, India is set to surpass China’s population, currently with 1.3 billion people, soon in our lifetime probably within the next 20 years. India’s current policies changed, starting in 1976, by increasing marriage ages to 18 and 21 for females and males, linking financial aid to states with stronger population curbs, increased money for voluntary sterilization, and widespread sex education in the schools. However, we need only look at U.S. consumption rates, and any expert would agree that the States, not India or China, is the overpopulated nation.

Another part of this unique social fabric is the caste system, a Hindu religious and economic practice whereby your karma or past action dictates your varna (“color” in Sanskrit) or ranked social order. This system is so pervasive that other religions in India practice the caste system, such as Christians and Muslims. The four varnas, Brahmans (priests), Kshatriya (warriors), Vaisha (merchants), and Sudra (artisans) as well as the avarna or “untouchable” class, represent a rank based on ritual purity and are justified by Hindu sacred texts. These Harijan or “children of God”, a Gandhian word meant to uplift, or Dalits (“suppressed”), are outside the system. They used to wear bells to warn people nearby of their arrival on the streets. In the practiced class system, there are thousands of jatis, where many arranged marriages stay within the jati, websites now devoted to helping arrange marriages. Class and marriage and often poverty, this is all part of your atma, coming at birth and becoming part of your existence, but there are opportunities for change and flexibility in the caste system. There are several ways out, such as doing your dharma (or duty) and being reborn in a higher caste, changing your behavior within the group or working in caste free contexts or opting out to Buddhism or Christianity. The caste system is an old tradition in India, but one that changes and shifts in this modern era.

Another old belief is the sacred cow of India. This tradition can’t demonstrate a more different place from America, a nation that counts beef and McDonald’s as two national icons. The zebu cow, or ubiquitous Indian symbol, is critical to the agrarian society, and as commonplace on the streets of India as the cultural head bob. Worth more alive than dead, the modern cow provides important dairy products like milk or yogurt, manure and dung for cooking and fertilizer, and male calves that become oxen bulls, castrated for transportation and animal tractors. It is both the symbol for health and abundance, and is scattered throughout the Indian landscape, including holding up traffic in every city I visited while drivers lay on their horns.

“From walled city to global city.” This is the banner displayed in Delhi. India is making the move from traditional to modern as the outsource capital of the world. Indeed, the customer service lines you call for most American companies like Dell Computers and other IT firms are answered not by Mike or Tom, but Sanjay and Gita. Trade with the United States has been very lucrative, especially for cities like Bangalore that have promoted their low cost labor costs coupled with a highly educated and intelligent populace. Seventy-five percent of Indians still live in the countryside, but cities like Goa and Bangalore are supporting a new Indian middle class, with Baliwood movies multiplexes in Western-styled malls. Throughout the sub-continent during my travels, Indian people were inquisitive, educated, informed and warm. They asked questions about my job, my time in India, my passions and my family. Unique compared to other places around the world, there is a love of America. Bush visited the week before we arrived, meeting with Prime Minister Manohman Sigh, the first Sikh P.M. of India. While Bush is experiencing one of the lowest approval ratings of his presidency, the Indian populace loves him! Unlike Clinton, many folks told me, Bush knows how to stay out of Indian politics and history, alluding to the conflict in Kashmir. With the ink still wet from an agreement about nuclear energy and weapons between India and the States, Bush found success he couldn’t find in the States.

In each country, I collect a paper, not for the glowing articles about W. but to show the important daily topics for Indians in Hindustan. Each day there is a section titled “Matrimonials,” parents looking for a suitable, arranged suitor for their son or daughter. It is the mix of modern and traditional in India.

One of my favorite reasons for traveling is seeing the world through a different lens. There are many ways of seeing and understanding the world, and I have two favorite examples in Hindustan. The first demonstrates the two worlds between men and women in India. On different occasions, men enjoy many more privileges and benefits. In line at the Taj Mahal, women were scrutinized by security, while men walked quickly through, enjoying an extra 30 minutes at the great mausoleum. Even while boarding the plane, the privileges granted to men were apparent. Women in front of me were disregarded while flight attendants asked to carry my bags and put them into the overhead storage. “No, no, I protested, I’ll put my backpack under my chair.” “But you won’t be comfortable,” they insisted, “give me your bag.”

While in Agra, my group also had the privilege of visiting Mother Theresa’s Ashram, a home for the physically and mentally disabled and elderly, often neglected and abandoned by their parents for reasons like polio or birth defects. We talked with the older folks and played with the children, some of which were locked in cages. “It’s for their protection,” the Christian nuns reassured us. Many students cried, moved by the powerful images of suffering and overwhelmed by our powerfulness. Our guides took a different view. “Do not feel too sorry for these people,” she taught us, “they are paying for their last lives.” Many students’ mouths dropped, but I inquired. For our guide, life is about karma, the law of cause and effect, good and bad fortune. In past lives, these sufferers of polio and mental disease must have done bad things. In essence, they get what they deserve. Students were outraged. One bright student challenged back. “Christianity isn’t much different,” she said, “we believe that people get what they deserve and good acts are also selfish.” In the end, our guide believed in karma and good acts too—she brought me kheer, a favorite Indian dessert that is a sweet rice pudding for dinner.

India was intense—the sights, the colors, the smells, the food, the streets. For me, India is best represented in the Hindu statue Nataraja or Lord of the Dance. It is a chaotic and busy, but controlled sculpture of Lord Shiva seen everywhere at hotels and businesses—in one hand conquering demons and another conquering ignorance. According to Shiva worshipers, He is dancing the world into existence and beating the drums that are creating the universe. This land is so different from any place I have ever visited before, and only Lord Shiva could crush my previous ignorance of India and reveal the Indian reality hidden behind the maya.