Govind

There was a time when I was a student in Nairobi in the 40s.  Accommodations were poor.  At times we slept in rather cramped quarters, in a shop when it closed its front doors.  There could easily be between 4 to 6 adult males around.  Quite often, my sweet and friendly uncle, Pragjikaka would be on his own mattress next to mine.  It was good but in some ways dangerous. He would casually ask if you had seen a certain movie.  It would be dangerous to say no, because then the whole night would be ruined.  He would tell you the whole story from start to finish, making the story even longer than the movie!  His memory was remarkable, as he could recount every detail.  It did not matter if you wanted to hear it or not, you were sleeping or not.  He was a continuous CD that had no ending!  In the morning you thanked God it was another day and you had to get away for school and other chores while he merrily went onto his sewing machine humming some tune or other, sewing those remarkable suits that these wanzas were experts at.. 

 Ravli Walji Parmar was a true man of God.  For a few months we shared the same sleeping area in the shop, when the doors to the shop closed for the night closed.  that is when when all the mattresses that were stacked up in the back, hidden fro m the eye come out.  There was a hierarchy.  Gordhanfua (Gordhan Lalji Solanki) was a teacher, and had the honor of sleeping on a wide raised showcase cum table where he slept at night.  Very regular and finicky.  After his morning ablutions, he would find a corner and stand on his head for about an hour.  All around was at peace then.

Ravjibhai would stir early in the morning.  A high myope, he had thick glasses.  To see anything clearly and magnified, he would take his glasses off and hold the object close so as to magnify it.  He was a tailor, so he, along with others, would make exquisite suits for the many Africans that visited the shop.  It seemed like at the time, they all thought they were politicians, and carried briefcases to look important.

Anyway, he was up by 6 in the morning.  He filled a large metal vessel (called a 'loto') with water to be used after visiting the toilet.  So he was often seen with the vessel in hand, going for his necessities.  Then he would visit the temple- either the Cutchy Gujarati, or alternately Swaminarayan temple, and spend some time in prayers.  Then he would return, and get down to his sewing machine.  After having cut the cloth, he would get down to fine sewing.  He had pride in his work.  A good two piece suit took about 3 to 4 days to make.  It would be displayed on a dummy if the owner had not yet presented himself and taken it. 

As the years went by, he collected some money, so he sent for his wife who was in India.  She was a rather quiet housewife, but an excellent cook and caretaker.  Later on they had children, the eldest one was called Baboo.

At the same time, he sent for his brother-in-law as well.  Unfortunately, the man was probably a schizophrenic.  He never cared much for food, appearances or where he slept.  He would present at his sister's house now and then, and in her usual magnanimity, she would take care of him, and feed him.  (A similar man was Premji Kanji Jethwa, brother of Lalji Kanji.  A great talker, wanted to socialize but hate work!).

The shop was in River Road, the owner being Khimjibhai Bhadresha.

Ravjikaka had also sent for his brother, Bhanjibhai, who came and started doing the same thing- sewing.  A friendly chap, who liked movies like me, and often we went together in company.  His appearances were interesting and unique, in that he had almost no forehead at all. His eyes were quite narrow.

Later, he also sent for his wife in India.  The two together, had a son.  The son became a Doctor.  He was interning at Mariakani, a Nairobi suburb.  Unfortunately, he became sick because of Meningitis, and died soon after.  The family was heart broken, which I saw during one of my visits to Kenya.  It was truly pathetic.  They were inconsolable.  The only solace one can give in these circumstances is not to say much, but only listen.

Ravjikaka and his brother changed their place of business and moved across in a nice shop.  He in fact bought the building, and there were many rooms ustairs where both the brothers and their families lived happily.

The shop was across from Jivan Natha Shikotra.  Jivanbhai was a very imposing man, well built, and a nice black mustache long one curved at the ends.  At the community hall- Wanza Gnati Mandal, he would take part in religious occasions, go into a trance, and beat himself on his back with a chain, and make it bleed!  He had 2 brothers- Keshavji, and ---.  He eventually returned to India- Ranavav, and had a nice house built there with the money that he came across with.  I think he eventually made his way to England.

The building where Jivan Natha was, was bought by my uncle- Mr. Keshavji Meghji Bhadresa.  His residence along witht he family was upstairs.  Volumes can be written about the family.  The main thing that stands out is the fact that they had a remarkable dog- whenever there was a visitor, the dog was suspicious, and sat in front of the visitor and stared at him constantly.  If the visitor wanted to go to the toilet, sure enough, the dog would follow him!  The other thing Kehshavjibhai liked is 'Ribena'.  A drink full of VitaminC, and the visitor had to have a glassful, whether he liked it or not.

Ravjikaka eventually had a heart attack and died.  His son, Baboo, came to England.  A tragic episode occurred then.  Soon after coming to England, he went for a bath, and had a heart attack.  He died in a bathtub.

At one time, Bhanjikaka and I were going to the movies.  It seemed like we had forgotten to lock the shop before leaving.  He was told off, but in English.  He was told that he was careless.  He did not know the meaning of the word, so he muttered and muttered, 'How can they blame us for not being careless! (instead of being careful)', and he went on and on.  It was hilarious, but a stern face was demanded of the occasion.

Keshavji Meghji Bhadresa, my dad's brother had bought the building.

His family were : Wives Jamkurben, Dhirajben.

Children- Prabha, Bena (Laxmi), Hansa, Shanta, Ramila, Arvind:  Anil, Lata, Ketan

and numerous grand children.  

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Mr. Rugnath Naran- was an interesting man.  His shop was located next to Khimjibhai Bhadresa, separated by a corridor that led to a square with rooms all around.  One of the rooms was occupied by Mr. Dahyabhai Gohill, who worked in the bicycle shop of Mr. Sardar Singh whora, just a few shops down.  Dahyabhai was married to Heeraben, and Lalji, when he was a student, lived with them.  At night he slept in the kitchen, a privilege as I thought.

His sister, Kesharben was married to Khimjibhai.

He was an interesting character.  Always a surprised look on his face, as he had wide open eyes.  He wore a white shirt, which went over a flared white pant.  These clothes also acted as pymjamas at night, as he never changed his clothes at night.  Rather unkempt hair, which stood on end, and it appeared that he never combed them.  He was generally scratching, his scalp, chest or other parts of the body.  He seemed to take a dislike to water, and probably never bathed.

To continue and maybe end the story of the young man who inherited a kingdom and marry the princess.  He has made Jam hopping mad.  Jam told him that because of his deceit, it was now his turn to leave the world. 

'Well', said the young man, 'I am willing to go with you.  However, in our people, it is bad luck to leave this world without saying your prayers'.  Jam saw no harm in that, except the young man would not even bother to say his prayers.  This went on for days with no end in sight.  Jam was getting exasperated.  Jam thought of a scheme which even the young man cannot resist.  He wrote the prayer in large letters, and posted it on the wall across from where the boy was sleeping.  When the boy woke up, without realizing it, he read the whole prayer.  Jam suddenly appeared and told him that now he had no prayer in hell that would save him.

I think there is moral to the story somewhere, but I will leave it to you to annunciate it.

Do you know the story of Shravan and King Dashrath, that had the whole ball rolling, and the king's son had to leave and be a vagabond for twelve years!!

The story of Valmiki, who became a 'Maharishi', and wrote the holy book of Ramayana is the most interesting and fascinating.  So, I will start that.  It enlightens us as to the events in life that directs us to a path, even from being a bad person to a person devine.

Valmiki was an outlaw in India.  He thus obtained good living for himself and that of his family in that manner.  He would accost many unwary travellers and demand their money or their possessions.  The travelers were happy to get rid of their possessions and have their lives spared.

One day Naradmuni was passing by-  a man known to stir up troubles.  He was accosted by Valmiki.  Narad agreed to being robbed, but before that, he said, he had one question to ask.  On enquiring as to what it was, he said, 'All these evil deeds you are doing, and thereore you are committing numerous sins, I presume your family takes a share in it, just as they take a share in your loot?'  Valmiki said he was sure they would also take a part of the blame.  when Narad said he was not sure, Valmiki tied him securely to a tree, and went home to ask his wife the same question.  She said that she or the children would take no part in his sins.  This made Valmiki think, he scratched his head not because of nits or some such, but the engines of the computer inside his head started whirling.  He returned and released Narad from his shackels.  He returned home and released his family from bondage.  He retreated into the forest, and after acquiring some pencils, and paper, he got lost in his industry of ewriting the 'Ramayana'.  It is one of the greatest books of Hindu religion.

If you do not know it, then shame of you.  The problem can even now be rectified by you.

The next person in the same vein is Sant Kavi Goswami Shree Tulsidas.  Not only he wrote the book, but the whole thing in a poetic form.  Maybe he was the Shakesperean poet, the bard of ancient at one time highly cultured India.

The following have written in praise of this mighty work:

Sant Vinoba Bhave, Raajgopalacharya, Vivekananda, Bakimchandra Chatopadhyay, Dr. Sushila Nayer, Mahatma Gandhi, Kakasaheb Kalelkar, Shashtriji, Moraribapu.

'Jindagi jabtak rahegi, fursad na hogi kaamsee

kuch samaya aesa nikalo, prem karlo shree Raamse'

The words that Tulsidas wrote, need no explanation, and applies even today 

Tulsi ees Sansarme, bhat bhat kee log

tulsi daya ne chandiye, taajke manka roog

(Tulsidas says to himself, that in this world are many kinds of people

but you must never do is abandon pity.  Get rid of inner illwill of the mind.)

Laaj na lagat aapuko, Doode ayeehu saath

Dhik dhik aese pyarko, kaha kahu me nath

aashi charam may deh mum, Taame jaysi pritti

taaisi jo shrre Ram mahe, hoot ne to bhavbhiti.

                  Translated -

(Without feeling any shame, you have come running

What shall I say? Such love is not praiseworthy

the presence of such love to the body

is instead to Ram, then you will fear not this life or lives in the future.)

These words were spoken by his wife Ratnavali.  She gave that awakening message, and she felt fulfilled and bacuse she saw no reason to live in this world anymore, she left this world.

Hearing these words from his wife was like a bolt of lightning to Tulsidas. He left the house immediately to become sant Tulsidas, and wrote Ramayana.

Let us analyze these words, that immediately changed the life of this great man.

('You did not feel any shame that you have come running, hateworthy is that love, what shall I say my husband, such love if you have in Ram, then you will fear no rebirths.)

Tulsidas was a young man just married.  He was full of love and constant longing for his beautiful wife.  The day had come when as per custom, the bride went to her parent's house in different village.  It was not endurable for the young man.  After a couple of days, he decided to go and see her.  He reached her parent's house.  Not wishing to disturb them, he climbed the outside wall and reached her bedroom.  (actually he reached the top by means of tying a rope to a snake, the kind that takes a good hold wherever it is thrown.  It was called Chanan Gho.)

She was shocked to see him.  Instead of love, she uttered those words that shattered his life.  (the words, as above).  He took leave of her immediately.  spent his days in meditation and wrote the great poem.  His wife, her mission accomplished, left this world.

To go back, just what is it about Hinduism that has sustained for thousands of years?  What is it that has produced great souls, Mahatma Gandhi was just one of them.  To do no harm, no matter what the odds were, as even Jesus has said to turn the other cheek, as well as many ideals are deeply engraved in the Hindu soul and being.  When Swami Vivekananda came to America, he was invited to gave a speech in Chicago. He spoke nonstop for five hours.  There was a pindrop silence during that time.  He enunciated Hindu ideals.

Far be it for me to even begin to talk about them, but I know that every Hindu is sinched in these high ideals, and therefore it is of necessity that I would talk to a nonHindu about the religion and philosophy as I see it.  There are many even Indian children have had no exposure to Hinduism in their adoptive lands, and if they would care to learn about it, then I would feel greatly justified in enunciating it.

The religion dates back to the Upanishads.  More recent are the stories of Ram, Krishna- his story told in the Mahabharat, as it informs as to why there was war at Kurukshetra (the grounds are still there), and Krishna's address to Arjun at a time of his despondency, in the way of the longest poem ever written, when Krishna addresses Arjun, settles his mind and put it at rest, and tells him to go to war in the name of righteousness.  The poem of course is the 'Gita', or to give its full name, 'Shreemadbhagvadgita', the longest poem ever written, as it is claimed.  Time and time again, over the centuries, we have seen this over and over again with other nations, and it would appear that a knowledge of the great book could pacify many a troubled mind.

Even the religion of Budhism, Jainism are rooted in Hinduism.

Without much ado, let us start with the story of Ram. 

(In my childhood, mother, being illiterate and unable to read, would ask me to read the 'RAMAYANA' with her.  We would begin, but it is such a touching book, that after reading a page or two, we both would be crying.  This form of exercise went on for days, and I don't think we ever finished the book!)

The story in fact begins with a young lad called Shravan.  His family was poor, and on top of that, both his parents, i.e. his mother and father were blind. However, one day they expressed a desire of going on a pilgrimage to their son before leaving this world.  Ever respectful and agreeing, he said he would undertake the task.  He made up a contraption that was held up with a sturdy stick that formed a crossbar.  He put his mother on one side, and father on the other.  Thus he carried both of them.  He must have traveled a long distance, till they camped by a lake near the city of Ayodhya.

The evening was setting.  The parents expressed a desire to drink some water.  Shravan left his parents and went to fetch some water.  It must have been about two hundred yards away. Shravan leaves his parents, and goes to the water's edge.  He dips an empty container into the water.  The girgling sound was similar to an animal drinking water at the water's edge.  It was misty and the view was limited.

It so happened that King Dashrath was hunting at the same time, and in the same place.  He hears the girgling sounds, and imagines an animal drinking water.  He removes an arrow from the quiver and arms it with the bow.  It goes 'zoom  sheebach' as it penetrates the body of the young man.  'Hey Raam', he cries out, and eyes fall on the desperate but well decorated hunter.  He tells King Dashrath that his parents are nearby, and he was fetching water for them to drink.  As a favor, he would ask the king to take them the water.  Thus saying, he falls and leaves the physical world.

The king takes the water to the blind parents.  The parents were amazed that their garrulous son was so quiet for a change.  Then they realised that it must be a stranger.  They asked him as to he was, but out of shame, he did not utter a word.  At their insistence, he eventually told them who he was and the accident that had happened.  The parents were distraught and threw away the water.  They were heartbroken, and cursed the king, and sadi, 'as we are today dying without our son, so will you one day'.  So saying, they departed this world.

To interrupt. The story of Jesal and Toral as I remember it.

There was a fierce storm raging.  The strong winds tore the sails to tatters.  The rudder was broken.  As the ship just went with the waves, and as these were violent and splashed onto the deck.  Jesal was at a loss not knowing what to do.  He had Tora, the equivalent of Mother Teresa on board.  She was saintly and not moved by all that storm.  That is when she says, (by the way, Jesal is an outlaw and has taken, stolen, killed and has done all kinds of bad things)

'Pap taru prakash, Jadeja, dharam taro sambhal ree

Taru bedli nee nahi budwa dauu Jadeja ree'

Declare all your sins, you brave warrior, meditate on your religion

And I will not let your boat sink'

This is when Jesal declares his sins, how many he has looted, killed, in the forest he as has killed a thousand deer, and all kind of bad things, but now he seeks forgiveness.

He was forgiven and him along with everyone on board were saved, as a miracle had happened.

It is a long poem, but if anyone knows the words, please let me know.  (I have now obtained the whole stanza.  Thanks, ?Mansukh)

To continue the story of the young man called Shravan

(I feel that I do not need continuity, but tell only about the juicy parts of a particularly long story, which in its vagueness can still be nothing but a kind of continuity).

On the edge of the forest is a green meadow.  A brook is flowing at one corner.  A clear view is obtained apart from the side of the forest.  Perched on a small hill is a beautiful thatched hut.  It is not very large.

The dwellers of the hut are Shreeram, his queen Sita and his younger brother Laxman.

On a clear day, a commotion is heard in the distance.  There is a storm brewing.

'Brother Laxman, there appears to be some disturbance beyond what the eye can perceive', said Ram.  'Please look and tell me what you think?'

Laxman, hands held together in reverence, says,'My Lord, I also see in the distance what appears like a dust cloud.  It seems like it is getting nearer and is approaching us.'

Ram is getting more curious.  He instructs his brother to go further atop the hill, and maybe climb a tall tree and see what he can make out.

Laxman obeys his brother and does as he was told.  After the exploration, he returns and says:

'I have bad news.  Way on yonder I see an army on the march.  There are elephants, many horses with fierce riders, soldiers on foot, and the leader appears to be a king.  On closer inspection I could make out the insignia of the king; it is none other than that of Bharat our brother'.

'I think he means war as he is drawing in a very threatening manner.  I shall go to our dwelling, and return with our armaments, our bow and arrow that will teach them a lesson for having the temerity to come in this manner'.

Ram, in his eternal wisdom said, 'Laxman, in your rage you have not realized that our brother will never threaten, and I have no doubt that he comes in love and peace to see us.  Lay aside your haughtiness and let us greet him in an appropriate manner'.

The army approaches.  Bharat was leading the army, and seeing his brothers, his eyes started streaming with tears; he dismounts at once and comes running.  He hugs his family and falls at the feet of his oldest brother, Ram.  (Ram was cursed to spend 14 years in the forest and Bharat was to rule from Ayodhya during that period).

He said that he had come to take them back, as rightfully the kingdom belonged to none other than Ram.  He said that it would be an honor if Ram would agree to return and take over the kingdom.

To this Ram refused, and reminded Bharat that he was following the dying wish of his now departed father, King Dashrath.

Thus there appeared to be no solution.  In the end, Bharat had a final submission.  He requested Ram for his wooden sandals- ?clogs.  He said he would take these to Ayodhya and place them on a dais on a cushion.  He will rule the kingdom but as continuous reminder and reverance of his brother, until such time as he rightfully returns and reclaims his kingdom.

To this, Ram had no objection, and let Bharat take his sandals under which he ruled for forteen years.

It is but one example of the extreme brotherly love, proving that 'blood is thicker than water'.

Do you know the story of Shabri, a poor maid who awaited the arrival of Ram for years.  I will do research and tell you about it next.

Ram and laxman were in a hurry to meet Sugriv in the forest as they traveled south.  As they walked, evvening fell so they spent the night on their way under a large tree.  In the morning, they started to walk again and came to the western shores of river Pampa.  They saw the Ashram and knew that it was no one else but that of Shabri.  As Shabri was sure that Raghuvir would be coming that day, she had made preparations to receive her God with all the necessities of a puja.  On beholding the two brothers, she ran towards them and fell on the feet of ShreeRam.  She wept and her tears covered the Lord's feet.  On inquiring about her devotion, and wondering as to how she knew he was coming, she answered that great sages had forecast his coming only if she would wait long enough.  Because of this, she had waited for ages.  Not only that, but she had collected sweet fruits from the nearby forest of Pamasar, and, not only that, but she had tasted them to ensure of their quality and taste.  The brothers were happy to oblige Shabri, and ingested the great feast of fruits that was laid out for them.  They then asked her about the great sages who had shown her the future.  She was happy to show them the heavens and where they resided.  The green meadow was called Matangvan.  Comig back to the earth, Shabri once again addressed ShreeRam and said that her longing to behold her God was fulfilled and now she wished to leave the earth and be among her sages in the heavens.  Thus she lit the huge fire, and walked inoto it as a sacrifice.  From the the pyre emerged Shabri as an angel, with beautiful white clothes and a garland around her neck, as she assended into the heavens.

The brothers proceeded along the lake Pampa in haste for their restlessness in meeting Sugriv and save him from the clutches of Vali, his notorious brother. 

Ram was also in a hurry to meet hsi beloved Sita who was kidnapped by Ravan, the cruel dictator os Shree Lanka.