Sankalpa Basu
I would have spent this afternoon
differently if it weren’t for the Sadguru. He had just touched my life through
a WhatsApp forward. He has brought light, understanding in many lives, and
filled others with awakenings and realisations. He has made spiritualism
popular among the smart phone generation and is the English retort to the
liberal wayward. If religion is the opium of the masses, then he may be the
good doctor prescribing fentanyl. Of course, you might argue that a WhatApp
forward is just that, someone sending a couple of minutes of highly edited video
to convey a message, which would need to compete with another 67 messages in
grabbing attention. How could it even hope to summarise Hinduisms take on
Secularism or Sadguru’s interpretation of this delicate affair? I don’t argue
with that. I probably just got a nudge to get me thinking about what oaths mean
to me.
I have taken many walks on the quayside of
the Tyne. It is not a long way from my
home. On Saturdays there is a curious open-air market where you can buy
anything from the local Northumberland sausages to the exotic Jamaican chilli
sauces. When I first came to Newcastle there used to be many shops selling
cheap woollen gloves, toys, LP records, second-hand books and other things that
gave the place a bazar kind of feel. But these shops over the years have given
place to more genteel shops selling Ceylonese woodcarvings or Thai incense
holders. Four bridges, all of them full
of character, beauty, and history, cross Tyne here. There are many pubs and
restaurants on the quayside where you might have some quality refreshments
before heading back home. The beautiful Sage Theatre stands on the other side
of the river; on this side there is a rather ugly Court Building.
I had first gone into this building many
years ago, not as an accused as some of you might be hoping but as a
professional witness. I will tell you, for those who don’t have the experience;
it is not very nice being cross-examined by a barrister. These fellows seem to
have a knack of making you feel nervous and guilty and as they always know more
about the case than you do they ask you terrible trick questions and make you look
like an idiot. I was therefore sitting there in the waiting room cheerlessly
looking out at the Tyne, it was a grey afternoon, and the river seemed to bear with
fortitude the annoying, non-stop rain. The judge seemed to be taking his time
and I was already tense when I was herded into the courtroom. It wasn’t old-fashioned
and oak-lined but it tried to be as impressive it could be in a modern steel
and glass way.
I found myself standing in the witness
stand - it was a rather empty room, just a couple of known faces, whose lives
could change as a result of my evidence, a couple of solicitors whom I half
knew, and two of the wigged gentlemen. A very unsmiling court clerk approached
me and asked what I would like to take oath on. I asked him what choices did I
have. Immediately I knew I had asked a silly question as he wasn’t supposed to
hand out a menu. The clerk turned out to be more patient than I had expected
him to be and told me that he had a Bible and a Quran. I said I was happy with
either as I considered all religions sacred and all Gods the same. I also
explained that since I was a Hindu I would prefer to have a Gita, if he
happened to have one. The clerk took a note of that and told that since he
didn’t have one I would have to take a solemn declaration that I will stick to
the truth.
I have since then thought about it many
times. Would I lie more readily if I took an oath on the Bible or the Quran?
And why should I need to take an oath anyway? After all a man/woman should be
expected to tell the truth all the time, whether in the presence of the Lord or
in the presence of the Lordship. And if I had to choose, then what would be the
one thing I would least like to defile with my lies. When I was young, I knew a
girl who had the habit of asking me to take an oath on her. There are few Odia
sentences more beautiful than ‘mo rana’. It is about innocent trust. I could
never lie to her after she said ‘mo rana’ although I knew nothing was going to
turn out differently if I did lie. Later I have seen people take oath on their
children and parents and on Gods and Goddesses. They do that because they hold
these things sacred and dear.
I suppose the clerk wouldn’t have allowed me
to stand in a British court and take an oath on Lord Jagannath, neither could I
say that I am taking an oath on my mother’s life and whatever I say will be the
truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
The Sadguru said in UK and USA the top dogs
have to take an oath on the religious book of the state before they took the
office the PM or the president. But we in misguided India have to take an oath
on our constitution. Just imagine the
misery of the oppressed Hindu, who has to show his allegiance to the
constitution, against his will and conviction. What a load of rubbish!
I do see certain advantages in following
the Holy Man’s advice. Wouldn’t it be nicer if they listened to him and made the
prime ministers take a vow on the religious book of their choice? At least then
they wouldn’t be embarrassing the constitution when they broke their promises.
I feel the constitution, although it is an imperfect
document, made by men and changeable by amendments is the holiest of holy books
in the world. It is the birth cry of a nation; the rallying cries for all
India’s soldiers, revolutionaries and patriots. For all its frailties it is the
only armour we have in the battle against saboteurs of our democracy. It is as
innocent as ‘mo rana’ and as dear as one’s mother. I am glad the Sadguru made
me think of all these.
