Pawn that became Queen

The Pawn that Became Queen

Governance By Consent

Sociocracy is the word coined by Auguste Comte the father of sociology for Democracy by Consent.

Democracy has a few characteristics:
1. It is rule by majority
2. It is rule by a victorious political party or a rule based on an ideology.
3. Democracy is representative Governance
4. People are the centre, source and dispensers of power. They do so by franchise as per law ordained.
5. Vox Populi has to be heard and acted upon. Vox Populi or the voice of the masses is generally represented by the media.
6. Justice for all, at the least cost and expeditiously administered.

I choose only these prominent characteristics to look into democracy as it is being practised in today's world.

The world "Majority" presumes the existence of a minority. If majority rules, the voice of the minority will remain a cry in the wilderness, though not necessarily, but in fact. The minority that is not listened to becomes sad, dejected, desperate, angry, rebellious and destructive.

Wherever, carried to the extreme, majority rule has produced terrorists and rioters. Take for example, the case of Hindu majority versus Muslim minority in India. In the state of Gujarat in India, the Hindu majority party Bharatya Janata Party was voted into power. The BJP Governement in Gujarat is most effective in administration, development and industry. It is perhaps one of the few states where hunger is not a political issue. However, the ideology that rules i.e. the ideology of the Hindutva (or Ramarajya) played havoc with the lives of a minority community and other minorities too live in fear. It is alleged that the law and order system sided with the majority and thus abetted in the muder and mayhem that sparked off after a fire in a Railway Car.

Democracy is rule by a Political Ideology or a Political Pary: The rule by religious texts will lead to fascism and rule by majority party will lead to democractic monarchy or dynastic rule as it is called in India. Indian National Congress had been the ruling party over half a century in India. By the time, the party had to move over and give the chair of authority to another parties, Congress itself had been inalienably identified with Nehru-Gandhi family. (Gandhi family name has nothing to do with Mahatma Gandhi, it is the Parsi surname of Indira Priyadharsani Nehru). Recently one of the youngest members of the family had the audacity to declare that "it (demolition of Babri Masjit) would not have happened had one of our family were in power". He had come to believe that only the Gandhi-Nehru dynasty could rule effectively. The very fact that while innumerable cadres of Congress had to work for years to get anywhere near the power-structure, he became over night the all important power centre. Democracy ultimately becomes political dynastic rule.

Representatives who cannot be recalled becomes a burden on the people who have elected them. It is not always that a statesman is created in democracy who will live for the people, rule by the law, and give an unsullied example to the generations to come of integral personality. The corrupt representatives will for example keep absenting themselves from attending legislative assemblies and in five years time will come back to the people with false promises. The people who have only a choice between the evil and the devil will have to finally settle for one or the other.

In today's democracy, people have no voice. The media which is meant to project the views and voices of the masses indulge in trivials. Majority of the time, after commercials in a TV newscaste is spent on entertainment and sports (as sports is not entertainment). We do not see an item of the day's telecaste called "Social and Developmental" where the works of NGOs and Individuals who work for the upliftment of the poorer sections will be displayed. If a child falls into a pit and if the event caught the attention of one media all the other media will spend days and night only on the event, even to the extent of hampering the rescue work. If a Cricket player or Film star did something different, the media will "follow the story all day" and will boast of bring the "latest" from the ground zero. An actress whom once people had worshipped said something like extra marital sex life the personal matter of an individual. All hell broke out, because the society in which she lived was ultra conservative (though they watch semi naked men and women dance and girate the whole day). The media made her life and the life of her growing child miserable by intruding into their private and personal life and property.

When decisions related to the lives and livelihood of the poorest of the poor are to be taken, they are taken by people who are not affected by the problem. Poverty is not a mere word that makes up a political slogan. But it is the very part of the poor man's daily life. The tragedy of today's democracy is that those who have hunger do not have the power to solve it, and those who have power do not have hunger. Some years ago before his party produced "India Shining" campaign, Atal Behari Vajpayee, the then Prime Minister of India declared that in 20 years time, India will be free of poverty. Just imagine that the lunch of the Prime Minister is not arranged that day. Now answer this question: What would be the priority of the ministerial staff of the Honourable PM? Of course his lunch. Why should a poor man wait for 20 years to have his food served?

Recently, in fact only a few days ago, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh of India sought and won a vote of confidence in the Lower House of the Indian Parliament. But the two-day session was a sight to behold. Acrimonious exchanges, personal attacks, accusations, general disorderly behaviour by the Members of Parliament, disobedience to the chair, sloganeering and sheer bafooning marked the proceedings of the House. An exasperated Speaker, an independant social thinker and parliamentarian of repute, Mr. Somanath Chatterjee said that he was ashamed of the behaviour and indiscipline of the memebers who sullied the image of the institution of the Parliament and the office of the Speaker. The world watched in horror and wondered whether they were honourable members of parliament of mere street children fighting over a rag. The fact that money changed hand for buying and selling members was very evident. That fact turned the Sanctum Sanctorum of Democracy, the sacred precincts of the Parliament, into a stable of horse trading.

I hold the view that it is time to take the power out of the hands of the politicians and give it back to the people whose it is legitimately.

Democracy as a representative governance has outlived its usefulness. It has turned into something sinister and essentially corrupt system.

As Auguste Comte foresaw a century ago and taught by Frank Lester Ward and practised by Gerarld Endenberg, Socialism is the future of governance. Type in the word Sociocracy in a search engine like Google and you are bound to strike a number of sites that will lead you to a good amount knowledge regarding sociocracy the rule by consent. Or visit our website www.ncnworld.org.

It is time, I repeat, to take power out of the undeserved hands of the politicians and people to resolve to take the reign of the country into their collective hands directly. Our social scientists and selfless statesmen and legal luminaries should sit together and plan a strategy for liberation of the people through sociocracy.

IMAGINATIVE SON

Over the two millennia since, Jesus narrated the story of the so-called Prodigal Son, people including Christians and those others who have heard the story from a secondary source i.e. not from the Bible, have imagined how sinful the young boy was. Bless their imagination.

Innumerable stage plays having been scripted to enact on stage have entertained the audience over two millennia. They all have one central theme of the Sinful Prodigal Son and the drama of the reception given to him by his father. The elder Brother is almost always depicted as the good boy who stayed at home and was legitimately angry at the father who was mindlessly generous. They all serve the purpose of the audience: see how good I am like the elder brother, not a sinner like the prodigal son.

Jesus had better things to teach than to speak of a young lad who ran away from home, his native village and his parents to a city. He was much interested in teaching the concept of God who decided to become man, a god who looked and behaved like a generous and loving dad.

Jesus had a habit of teaching serious lessons by narrating stories. Not merely did he narrate a story, he liked to create another person who reflected the opposite of God who was always his theme.

For him, God was indescribable in human terms. So he cleverly crafted a person who represented exactly what the Heavenly Father was not. Heavenly Father was generous, accepting, loving and waiting. There is a character who was not any of these.

The older boy, who attended to the works of his father, was that person whom Jesus depicted as antonym of God.

He was selfish, thought of himself and his needs first. He never asked for what was his own. He projected a slavish mind. This man who is the opposite of the Father did not accept his brother without reservation: he passed judgment without premises or evidences, he could never be happy and above all he was unable to meet the society and be one among them. Unlike the Father, he was a sinner who professed himself to be a saint, but a hypocrite to the core.

We need to make requests of others in order to enrich our lives. The younger son did request what was legitimately his. He failed however, because he did not behave like a responsible person. He was imprudent with the wealth.

Requesting what is ours is not to demand. We must take full responsibility for our feelings which necessarily are connected to our needs and then make the request in order to enrich our life.

Jesus states: “Ask and you shall receive”. Human persons have a way of presuming that everyone is aware of his or her needs. Some of them are long suffering “Servants of Yahweh”, projecting themselves as icons of suffering for all to admire.

The women of our society are considered mothers. Mothers are supposed to suffer, sacrifice themselves and be silent for all their lives. That is the tag society has given them and they seem to like it.

Envision a family scene. The father of the house and the three teenaged children, a son and two daughters are watching the television; the mother of the house is in the kitchen. She had been working the whole day. She starts saying out loud for all to hear: “I didn’t have a minute to myself, did the week’s laundry of the whole clan, I swept and swabbed the house; I did the grocery shopping. Imagine, today was the only day I was off duty from the office. One would think that I am resting at home”. She perhaps thinks that those who listen to her rosary of woes, would sympathize with her, leave the television and come to help her or she hopes the husband will come over and keep her company or say, “honey, I want you to sit down and have a cup of coffee. Let me do the work”. These are the responses she expects but the actual reaction is silence, a deafening silence. But the crowd was not exactly silent. The second daughter lifts her eyes and makes a sign to her sister which said “Yea, yea, she is at it again”. The elder daughter sniggers. The husband flashes a smirk like that of an airhostess at the door of the aircraft, which disappears as a comet in the sky. The son turned the volume of the television a bit higher.

The elder brother of the Prodigal Son wails like this woman, “For all these years, I have been slaving myself for you. You did not even give me a little lamb to celebrate with my friends”. All the wealth of the father was his too, he knew it. But he preferred someone to serve him. He expected his father to appreciate his slavishness. He was a slave and he behaved like one. No one had ever asked him to be less than a son. But he chose to be a slave. Since his needs were unfulfilled, he was resentful. He was angry or vengeful or both.

He just would not accept his brother who had imperfections; and who was a sinner in his eyes. He could not even say of him “my brother” but he calls him “your son” reminiscent of the event in the Garden of Eden where the Man says to God “the woman YOU gave me as partner, she made me sin”. This elder boy for his protestations of loyalty to the Father accuses the father for siring a sinful son.

A couple of years ago, a group of Catholics who calls itself St. Thomas Christians threatened to attack the parish priest. They are like a pack of hyenas, and the poor priest knew it. (He finally ran away to the US). They did not want the residents of a leper colony to be included in the parish directory. There is more than one irony here: they were assisted by a Cannanite priest now living in the United States whose nephews were among the drunken crowd of St. Thomas Christians. Another irony was the poor Catholics chose to live in the Leper Colony, because of low rental. None of them was suffering from leprosy except one man. He was ironically, a St. Thomas Christian. Mother Teresa’s sisters had a leprosy hospital in the colony. There used to be Sunday services in their hall. The St. Thomas Christians refused to sit on the benches and chairs fearing they might have been used by the lepers.

Like the elder brother these “Christians” refused to accept their less fortunate brothers and sisters.

The Father in the story waited for his truant son to return home. Jesus cleverly places the elder son outside the home when the Prodigal Son returned. He did not wait; he perhaps hoped that his brother would not return home at all. If he came back home, his very presence would defile the home.

The reason why one refuses to accept a low caste or a sinner is the self-inflating imagination that one is pure and undefiled.

The Pharisees always considered themselves to be the purest of the pure. They would not sit to eat without the ritual washing, had they been out in the market. They insisted that the lepers be kept away. The lepers were obliged to shout aloud as they made their way through public streets “Unclean, Unclean!!.”

A decade ago, I was doing my Clinical Pastoral Counseling Course in an Institute on Staten Island NY. On every Friday evening a woman from the Jewish Community would visit the Institute and conduct their Sabbath prayer service. A ritual meal was part of it. All students and those who were interested attended the service. She would bring all the material needed for the service herself. One day as the service was half way through, she noticed that she had not brought the bread for the service to the hall. I offered to go and fetch it. Her expression was one of disbelief. Her pale American face became ghostly paler. She perhaps said to herself: “A coloured Indian and a Catholic to boot, dares to touch our sacred meal!! Horror of horrors, how could he ever imagine that we could have our sacred Sabbath with defiled food?!” I understood and regretted that I ever offered to help. However, I did help wheel the only Jewish person in the facility to my office to fetch the bread.

To be generous means to be non-judgmental. Observe the way, the Father gives to the son and receives the sinner son back home.

The son who perhaps attained puberty and had his initiation service done was eligible for the inheritance. He asks the Father: “Father, please give me the portion that is legally mine”. The father gives, without questioning. A great lesson is respecting other’s decisions.

When the repentant Son comes home after the miserable life with the pigs, the father runs to welcome him, embraces him and kisses him. The son has something to say, the father listens, but doesn’t respond. He neither approves nor accuses his son. He is just happy and generous.

The Father is generous beyond imagination. He gives him the ring, indicating he has once again restored to his wealth. The son could make a mistake again in life. But trusting in his son is like trusting the creator who created him too. Think of a human father, any father whether he is called “Father” as in the case of a priest or a bishop, just an ordinary father who would trust a son who made a mistake. Such a son is generally condemned for life. The son is labeled and kept at a distance.

The Father gives him back his dignity as son. He wanted only to be a slave. The father puts the gown on him with the family insignia.

He puts sandals on his Son’s feet. He could enter his house like a son not as the slave who would have to be barefooted.

He throws a party for his Son. He is reintroduced into society. The first initiation service was a disaster. But the second initiation by the Father after the repentance of the son is more joyous and mature. The Son had already been tested in fire. It is unlikely that the lessons are not learned. The society except the other son is happy. It is good to remember that Jesus solemnly reinstated Peter after his sin and repentance. He is given the keys and put him in charge of the other brothers and sisters. Who can be Christ like and God like?

It is a narrow mind that passes judgment without trial. Trial involves deliberation, study of all facts, and examination of witnesses etc. True justice is delivered in order to restore the balance of society. Punishment, much less condemnation is not the end of justice.

A judgmental person is one who passes judgment and attributes motives to others. He or she is an imaginative person. As the mouth speaks from the depth the heart, as Jesus once said, they talk from the depth of their heart. If they talk of the sins of their brothers or sisters, be sure, that sin exists first in their own heart. Whether it exists outside or not is a matter for investigation with the purpose restoring balance in society. If such an end doesn’t exist, there should never be a trial.

I know a gentleman in New Delhi. His father was supposed to be a leader of charities. He was a cut throat banker before he chose to thread the path of charity. The son, in order to enhance the holier-than-thou image of his father, decided to become a priest. He became a miserable priest. He would eat and drink without of temperance. Every one except himself knew he had the Battle of the Bulges to fight. He used to be hockey player in his high school days, but he gave up any sort of exercise. But he kept exercising his tongue. Another priest once said of him “I move away, when see this man coming to a party. He has nothing good to say of others.” He knew about others much more than others knew about themselves. Perhaps he made up stories about others. He was Fr. Judgment. Once he told me: “Don’t quote, she is bitching around”. The tinkle in the corner of his eyes said he was revealing a confessional secret. “It is between you and me, keep it as a secret!”

The Elder Son was a judgmental person.

Does any one know how many prostitutes there are in the story of the Prodigal Son? Ask any Catholic what was the sin the prodigal son was guilty of. Pat comes the answer, “he spent all his wealth with prostitutes!” Jesus did not say that neither did he indicate any sexual behaviour in the boy.

It is paradoxical to think that the Lord Jesus who forgave the sin of the woman caught in adultery and the Jesus who said to the Pharisees that the “Prostitutes and Sinners would go before you to heaven” thus making pharisaism a greater sin than sexual immorality or flesh trade for daily bread, would make it a big issue in an important lesson regarding God the Heavenly Father. What generations of Christians have believed to be the sin of the Prodigal Son was what the Elder brother said: “He and the harlots”. Prostitutes did not figure in the story of Jesus. Jesus indicated that the elder brother who never left his home was actually sinning in his imagination sitting at home.

The thought of his younger brother might be having the company of prostitutes in the city had made the elder brother a resentful man. If he were to be out he would certainly have had sex.

A few years ago, a priest left for the United States. Soon all the priests of his diocese went into an overdrive of gossip mongering. Judgments quoting “reliable sources”, checking up with the “women” he seemed to have known (biblical knowledge in their imagination). Till then they had been jealous of him but did not know how to attack him. But now they had a weapon. As cowards do, they spoke with the certainty that he would not be able to respond. When he returned, they again approached their constituency in the guise of pastoral visits and condemned the priest, attributed motives to him. Rest is history. When the good goes bad it stinks. Their mouths emitted foul like the gutters of Delhi’s slums. Corruptio optimae, pessima, the seniors among them who knew Latin would have heard it said so well in the Classical tongue.

When the tongue that is meant to bless accuses, and the hands that are to rise in blessing should rise against the person of a consecrated, the confidence of the people they seem to administer mercy would loose their faith. Imaginative elder brothers, you are called to Sanctity. Lift up your hearts above the ugly and deceitful. Say honestly tomorrow at mass: “We have lifted them unto the Lord”. Amen

Deadly Sin of Denial in Married Life

Deadly Disease of Denial

I've worked with hurting people in divorce situations for a number of years. If you asked me what I thought might be the number one problem in so many of these situations, I would say, "Denial. And the second is like unto it—playing the blame game."

Over and over I hear people say with variation on the theme: "My husband did this. My wife did that." "And what did you contribute to the breakup of your marriage?" I ask. "Nothing ... my spouse did such-and-such. He was such a jerk." "And why were you attracted to such a jerk?" I ask! "Have you ever been attracted to other jerks?" Silence ...!

No matter what struggle we are in, we are always contributing something. I've seen husbands berating and blaming their wives for their marriage problems when in reality they were very angry at their mother and were taking it out on their wife. I've seen wives do the same thing when they are really mad at either their father or some other significant male who hurt them deeply in the past.

Many spouses are angry about something in their past. Others are too "nice, weak and/or passive" (codependent). Others are over-dependent and smother their partner. But do they see their problem and the contribution to the situation they are in? Many, if most, don't. Far too many of us are in denial about our own deficiencies. The reason denial is so deadly is because, as someone described it: "Don't Even kNow I Am Lying."

Deniers are people are hurt within. They do not get hurt, but they inflict hurt on themselves. Deniers as a clan hate themselves. “How did I ever get caught in this mess”, is an expression that forgets that he or she is equally responsible for the mess. They are hurting within, and they continue to hurt others.

Deniers are avoiders of personal responsibility. They tend also to be blamers. If I play the blame game, I will "b-lame"—and will never get well. Only as we acknowledge the truth and reality of what we are contributing to our problems, will we ever have any hope of recovery and becoming well. The reality is that the only person I can ever change is me, and as I change, others are almost forced to change in relationship to me in one way or another. This is not always for the best, however, as some people simply cannot stand or handle our change. To get well this is the risk we need to take.

The only people counselors—and even God—can help are those who willingly admit: "I have a problem. I need help."

ASH WEDNESDAY

The importance of religious rituals is getting diminished these days. What is happening is a reaction to overritualization of religion.

Religion by nature is both personal and communitarian. Religion must have a personal meaning to the devoted. To those who believe in rituals and to those who do not, religion as such must be meaningful. Rituals make sense when community is celebrating together their faith. The expressions of faith need to be compressed into set forms. Such a set form and formal expressions of faith are called rituals.

Religion can and must have meaning to individuals and communities without insistence on rituals especially those which border on gimmicks.

Ash Wednesday for example is the starting day of the lenten observance of the people who believe in the way of Christ. Starting with the imposition of ashes on the forehead of a christian of religious type to the number 40 in the number of days of abstinence from intoxicating drinks and non-vegitarian food are symbols of rituals. Since they are visible symbols, they are also for exhibition. The Christian once a year applies a bit of loose ash to his or her forehead and says to the world, "Look, I am a faithful Christian. I am on fast today". This in itself is an unchristian declaration, because Jesus Christ wants his disciples to fast in secret. He wants his disciples to wash their face and apply oil to their hair and look normal in front of the public. Jesus reasons out with his friends saying that the heavenly father sees what is done in secret and will reward those humble people in being honest to God and not to the public with a view to gain their attention.

What could happen to those who hate rituals but believe in God who gave them their faith is that they could throw away the baby with the bathwater.

There could arise many by-products to rituals like Fast and Abstinence. Take for example the Spanish-Protugese custom of carnivals. Whichever country these two countries had colonized after the whole globe was divided between them by the Pope for evangelization, carnivals took root in those countries. When Fast and Abstinence was insisted upon by the church, the pleasure loving people said to themselves, Ok, now that we have to forego our pleasures, we should go all out on the day prior to starting the ritual of fasting. Thus they invented carnival on Tuesday preceding Ash Wednesday. Carnival day was a day of pleasure in full measure and devil took the reign of the world over from the Church. Goa in our own country was once a territory governed by the Portugese. Inspite of the protestations of the Church, Carnival happens year after year in Goa. What is more, the girls who bared all and gyrated before a lustful crowd on the day of the carnival, and the men who indulged in the carnal pleasures in public view came to churches on Ash Wednesday in penitent dress and asked to have the ashes imposed on their forehead.

Ash Wednesday as a community celebration could mean that the community was repentant of its own weaknesses and failures in living a holy life is now ready to show that they truly intend to live a life worthy of a Christian. Carnival is a deliberate declaration that come what may pleasure is our way of life, we merely give into the practises of the Church.

Which engineer on earth can design a machine that would work 24 hours a day and 365 days and nights for years to come without resting. Every machine including human body will break down if it is not treated to a good night's rest and a weekly holiday. So too, continuous eating could damage one's health. Dangers of overeating are too many to mention. A day's abstinence from food could do great wonders to the human body.

It is good to rest and that is why the primary lesson of Genesis the preamble of the Bible is about rest: God took rest and gave an example to his creation to rest.

As regards non-vegitarian meals, it is proved beyond doubt that vegitarians live a healthier life style. A diabetic has testified to me that until he changed his food habits his blood sugar could not be controlled. He drank, he says, a gallon of water every day and walked a couple of miles in the morning and ate vegetarian meals. Lo and behold, his blood sugar came to be normal. Many more instances could be quoted.

Abstinence may have creeped into the Lenten practices of the Christians through the backdoor. It might have happened in this fashion: During the mideval times the poor people were surfs and the Abbeys and Bishoprics were the Landlords. One of the things they did was to cultivate fish farms. Labour was cheap and plenty and the Abbeys had vast landholdings. Fish multiplied and there were few takers of fish in the cold climate of Europe which at that time held the monopoly of Roman Christianity. The Abbeys devised a way to make people buy fish from their ponds: they found a religious meaning to eating fish. They said that Christ died on a Friday and therefore, Friday ought to be a day for abstinence from meat. However, non-consumption of meat should not put your energy requirement into peril. Therefore, instead of meat eat fish on Friday. In my childhood, all the Christian calendars had a design of fish on the Fridays. I wonder if the command of the Abbots or Bishops to their flock to each fish had come down to the fifties and sixties of the last century!

Christianity is not an European religion. In fact since Europe did not have the spirit of Christ, Christianity vanished from the face of the Western World. Believe it or not a number of seekers are now making their way to the eastern countries for "nirvana" of one sort or another. Some may find it in yoga another in transcentental meditation another in zen and yet another Hare Krishna movement. However one thing is certain: they are all finding Christianity burdensome and obselete and intolerant. I mean that type of Christianity they had been brought up with.

Christianity is middle Eastern. Though I don't like the term East and West applied to a globe just as much as I don't like preference for the right from the left, I use it for want of another term. Orient or the East had always been associated with mysticism and vegetarianism. The only reference to eating meat found in the Bible is where Peter was asked in a dream to eat whatever that was presented to him. He was actually challenged to eat contrary to the Jewish eating "kosher" food or the custom of avoiding "unclean" food. Christ never spoke of eating meat. Christianity thinks these days with their leadership that eating meat must characterise their religion.

One the other hand it is impossible to be a practitioner of yoga with meat either in the stomach or in the mind.

Every Ash Wednesday brings to my mind certain events connected with it. Let me quote one such event. Once I was waiting with a bulky Priest of the diocese of Delhi at an airport terminal. If I remember well his name was Joseph Thomas. It happened in the 70s. It was Ash Wednesday. The priest in question smoked like a chimney. He offered a cigarette to an officer of the airport authority. The Officer politely declined to accept it and said "Father, it is Lent. I have given up smoking for the season. Besides, I observe fast and abstinence today". The priest blushed. He smiled and tried to compose himself from the shock. The Teacher of Christian faith received a good lesson in faith from a layman.

The point I am trying to drive at is that abstinence need not be only from meat. It could be from smoking, liquor, uncharitable use of the tongue and so on many ways.

To tell a poor man not to eat meat on Friday is the most shameless joke the Catholic Church had been telling centuries after century. In my younger days, I could think of eating meat only on certain rare sundays when my father brought it home. He could not afford meat. Poor and the lower middle class are the people who really observe this abstience law, because, jokes apart, they just cannot afford. If my father had brought home meat on Friday, would we just toss the meat out of the window?! The habit of storing dead meat in refridgerators is a Western concept. For an Easterner, the mother earth fed him or her daily from her boundy.

Child Labour

THE LITTLE CHILD, ADIVASI CHRISTIANITY AND JUSTICE

The year was 1988. As a Catholic Priest, my work area was Vikaspuri-Tilak Nagar of New Delhi.

In my enthusiasm and extra energy to meet the new challenges of my social work, I started in right earnest.

Mr. Stanley John was my helper, my assistant and my counselor. A family man with four kids, and an experience working among people of all kind for over two decades, he was indispensable. His respect for seniors was a consolation. I made many mistakes. He understood and empathized with my inexperience and appreciated my willingness to learn from experience. He had his gentle way of letting me know things I need to know. That helped. More over, he had a short stint with me ten years prior to this project.

One day Mr. Beck a resident of Vikaspuri accompanied by a couple of others came to meet me at Delhi Cantt where I was living at that time. They complained that a Hindu family in their neighbourhood had stollen Mr. Beck’s domestic help and hidden her in its home. I was aware that it had all the possibilities of a communal situation. I sent the delegation back home promising to be with them shortly. Some thing inside me kept curbing my instinct to meet the challenge head on. I called up Stanley. After many years as I reflect on the situation, I know I did right by consulting him. Stanley told me very plainly: “You have to be careful with that character called Mr. Beck. He has a sinister look on his face.” He advised me not to go to his home alone but wait till he came to accompany me. Mr. Stanley John knew about the young domestic help in question, who according him was not more than six years old. It turned out that she merely looked six years. She was close to 10.

When we arrived at Mr. Beck’s house, we felt as if we had walked into an Adivasi panchayat. All the leaders from the areas of Janakpuri, Vikaspuri and Harinagar were huddled together in consultation and discussion. They briefed me that the neighbour of Mr. Beck a certain Mr. Sharma had been trying to steal his domestic servant whom he had brought from his village in Bihar. Finally, they had managed to lure her away and the child was in his custody, they said. "Moreover," they added "the Hindus were spreading rumors about Christians in the area". What I realized instinctly was that the leaders of the Adivasi community were making extra effort to give the incident a communal colour. The Advasi community in question, was Christian.

I took Mr. Stanley John and went over to Mr. Sharma’s home a block away. I was received by a gentle elderly woman with a kind disposition. She welcomed me and called out to his son the head of the family. The story they told me was an entirely different one.

The girl in question was spotted in the crowded weekly market in Vikaspuri Extn area. She looked desperate and was trying to jump before a running bus. The elder knew the child to be the domestic help in her neighbourhood. She grabbed the child and pulled her away from disaster. The child told her that she would rather die than go back to Mrs. Beck who according to her starved her and tortured her often besides making her work from early morning five till eleven at night. Since the Beck family worked in offices and the two children went to school they used to lock her up in the house during the day which of course was the general practice by most employers of domestic help in Delhi.

I asked Mr. Sharma whether I could talk to the child personally. They had no problem. There was one hitch. The child was in an undisclosed home and had to be brought before me without letting the Beck family and the tribal leaders know of the place where they had kept the child safely. I promised to return later in the day.

When I came out, the tribal leaders had already changed their version of the event. There was no more the Hindu-Christian divide in their present story. They had hoped in vain that I would support the "Christian cause" and would stand by the tribal community in saving their maid from the clutches of an "evil Hindu conspirator". They soon realized that these deadly seeds of hatred no more had any soil to grow.

As promised I came back after two hours with Stanley John in tow. The child was already in the house. Let me call the child Sheila. Sheila came to the door and moved towards the elder woman and clinged to her body. With one eye, Sheila was observing me and Mr. Beck alternately. Mr. Beck and three others besides Mr. Stanley John were invited by me to be present. After a few minutes of conversation, I asked the child to come close to me. She came without hesitation though glancing at Mr. Beck in fear. When she came near me, her body language was clear to all present that she trusted me. It was not the first time she had met me. I had visited Mr. Beck a couple of times before and the child had seen me. She stood close to me as if to say, I trust that you will find justice for me and protect me.

With much hesitation she told her story.

Sheila was one of 7 girl children of a village priest somewhere in Bihar. The child did not knew the name of the village but could not identify the district without which locating her parents address was almost impossible in India. (Just imagine there are at least 22 Rampurs in India spead over various states). With the little he used to get from the temple the poor Brahmin tried to meet both ends meet. As the girls were growing up, he had the added problem of finding a groom for each of them. When a certain Adivasi christian from Delhi approached him with the proposition of buying one of the girls he reluctantly agreed. The child did not know how much money had changed hands. The next thing she knew was that she was in train bound for Delhi. Delhi for her was a dream city of magnificent sights and sounds and foods. She was rebought by a certain Catholic Adivasi gentleman in Faridabad. The second buyer brought the girl home to his eccentric wife. Some say, the lady was insane. Others say that she had caught her man having an affair with a tribal housemaid and thereafter she began to pretend to be insane. When the woman saw Sheila, she threw a tandrum and began to abuse the man. The tantrums increased by the day. In despair, the man decided to get rid of Sheila. He came to know that Mr. Beck, his old friend and relative (all adivasis are related if they are of the same "gother" clan) was looking for a housemaid. He sent the child to Delhi where she became the property of the Beck family. The two children of Mr. and Mrs. Beck, a small boy and a girl of her age became Sheila’s only solace. With tears running down her cheeks Sheila narrated the horror story of her life with the Becks.

Sheila had to wake up on her own at 5 a.m. Mrs. Beck is the other earliest riser in the family. By the time the Lady of the House woke up at 6 am, Sheila would have made bed tea and prepared the children’s lunch. If they were not ready for some reason, she was severly scolded and at times, the woman applied burning match stick to the child's skin.

After the elders of the family had had their morning tea, the children of the family were woken up and bathed and dressed by Sheila. Thereafter the children were taken to the bus stop. The two heavy sachets were carried by Sheila while children walked free.

The furtive and fearful glances of Sheila in the direction of Mr. Beck and his uncomfortable avoidance of her eyes spoke of some other dynamics of which I would hear months later. I could only guess what was going on at that time. Whatever that relationship had been, it was not a good one. I am sure, a girl of 10 would not try to commit suicide just because, her food was meager and she was ill treated by the woman of the house. There was an unspoken fear of the man of house as well lurking behind the whole episode.

The Hindu family was forthright in their resolve. The elder woman spoke on behalf of the family and said, that Sheila should be taken care of by a Christian institution, may be that of Mother Teresa's. The family would be happy if I would take charge of the child and saw that she was safe. Under no circumstances were they willing to give the child back to the Becks. I consulted Mr. Stanley John. We had few choices. Handing over the child to the Becks was not an option for us either.

I told the tribal leaders that given the reluctance of the child to come back to their homes and in the absence of any denial of the charges the child had leveled against the two christian families which had bought rebought her, it was necessary that the higher authorities have to be involved. I decided to keep the child with the Missionaries of Charity in Delhi while I got in touch with my boss, the Bishop. I told them clearly that before me was a criminal case. However, if it was possible, the matter could be dealt with as a domestic problem, if the Bishop so desired. I needed guarentee that the child would not be abused any further.

I rode a motorcycle those days. That was my only conveyance. It was not appropriate to pillion drive the child to Old Delhi where the Communities of Missionaries of Charity had promised to take care of Sheila. I left the house in order to call for the van of Shishu Bhawan run by the MCs. By the time I met the superior and returned with the van and two sisters, the situation in Vikaspuri had taken a different route.

In my absence, the tribal community got in touch with some of the police officers in the city who were of their tribe. They rushed to the place in full uniform, even though none of them had jurisdiction in the area, nor did they carry a Magistrate's Order for search and rescue. They intimidated the Sharmas and whisked the child away.

One could only now fear for the worst. But what happened thereafter was another criminal conspiracy of the tribals who call themselves "Christians".

I got a summons from my boss. When I reached his house, I was told that he was in a meeting and would meet me a few minutes later. I stayed outside the library. I was not sure what he wanted. It could be anything. However, I was surprised to learn that it was about the Adivasi Child Slavery Case. The Advasi Panchayat was meeting the bishop now with a complaint against me. I was too late to inform him first.

The bishop finally emerged from the meeting and informed me that he had been with the Adivasi Leaders from Vikaspuri. They had come as a delegation, he informed me, and they had said that I was anti-Adivasis and I had insulted them in front of the Hindus. He wanted my explanation.

I was annoyed that now the tables are turned against me and the criminals are now complaining. I explained the events that happened a couple of days ago regarding the child labourer of Mr. Beck. What was interesting was that the bishop had already interviewed each of the delegation individually, somewhat after the Judgment by Samuel on Susanna and the Old Men in the Bible. Each had no idea what the other had said to the Bishop so they had contradicted each other. The others had no idea how to arrive at a common story while seated in the parlour, with a priest guarding them against conspiracy. I was glad that the bishop did do a bit of investigation himself.
I finally joined the whole assembly of the delegation in the Library. The bishop asked the leader of the delegation to repeat the story to me once again in my presence. His discomfiture was evident. This time, he was tongue tied and sat with his eyes downcast, which is the body language of the tribal who would only tell the truth to his tribe's head. There are a few things which they consider natural, falsehood to anyone other than their tribal chief was one of the "natural" things they did with impunity.

The Bishop’s verdict was forthright but diplomatic. It is good, he said to them to apologise to me since I was hurt by their false accusation against me. He wanted to know where the little girl was. The answer was typical “we sent her home”. (To them, a lie is natural) How did they do it? Who went with her? Where is her home? The bishop's questions were quick and pointed. Answers were naturally quick lies: We bought a ticket and put her in the train. After reaching Ranchi, she knows how to reach home on her own. Tell that to a father of a ten year old village girl of India or anywhere in the world for that matter! The bishop did not try to investigate. Perhaps he knew it was as difficult as tracing the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden in the mountain crevices of Pakistan-Afganistan border. The tribals would hide her against justice.

As for the apology, it never came. The face of Sheila whose body language said to me, “Please be my father, and protect me from this heartless group which calls itself Christian.” She just vanished from the face of the earth. But no, my heart aches with the realization, some other 'christian' family is abusing her.

It is true if you stand for the poor, you stand to loose. You teach the children of the rich and the powerful, they will grant you many favours. You try and help a poor girl child and stand for justice and dignity to her, you will face a pack of powerful people. Like a pack of wild dogs, they keep pestering. So with the Adivasis of Vikaspuri and Harinagar. They followed me up with rumours and gossips till my worked ended in Delhi.