Unto them that deserve

Unto them that deserve

Sunday mornings are the times for a great many different things to all the different people, To the hard working professional, it is the day when you sleep late into the day and take it easy. To the homemaker, the morning to prepare the much loved dishes for her school going kids. To the Christian family it is the morning to give unto the Lord, what is His due. And thus on this Sunday morning, me and my wife set forth to the church, for the first service of the morning, after a long interval. The service started with the usual litany and rituals post which I, and as I assumed, the rest of the assemblage awaited eagerly for the Good words of God. Yet when the minister started his sermon, delving into the new building to the new parish hall, with little or no contribution from the diocese or bishopric, and matters attendant, and no reference to the Holy Book, I couldn’t help feeling a bit surprised. He described at depth the contributions of those who contributed lavishly, and the opposition he personally faced in making this happen.

As an infrequent church goer, I have certainly been unfamiliar with the goings on and this new rhetoric of self and mutual exaltations were the last things I expected at a church sermon. The Holy Word of the divine, being taught to cleanse the sinner’s minds was what I understood that church sermons were. There were a few puffed up chests and faces emblazoned with pride. The parish hall had names etched on its walls for eternity- names and family names. It brought to notice, songs of praise to them that gave – not to the needy – but to the church fiesta. Who gave more than whom, was the matter in discussion. Standing in a corner, was a forlorn, figure on a crucifix, forgotten- at least unnoticed.

However, what surprised me was the fact that this hardly brought about a true surprise in my mind. Every grouping was a reflection, in one way or the other of the same. Be it the running of the nation, or meeting the needs of the needy, be it the social duties that we are to fulfil, even the basic commitments that we need to meet in our families, especially our elders, comes with the ever present poster and a price tag. Well to put it simply, if your contribution to the cause was a rupee more than that of your neighbour, you need to be above him in the very public list. If you paid for your parents hospital bills last time, your name need the mention. Forget the fact that the nights the penniless sibling spent taking care. Money buys all – respect, privilege and prestige. Who knows when it will also buy true love or maybe even God’s Grace?

Your respect is now to be bought in dollars, pounds or rupees. All privileges have a barcode indicating the respect it fetches. The poets sing not of love and sacrifice but of those who paid. The evening parties in admiration who paid a few hundred is held at the expense of thousand and the pictures and videos to reach millions. You, essentially are what you paid or what you presented yourself to be. Not what you did in reality.
Come now, times have changed. You live online, not in lovelorn hearts. You are not loved for what you are but what you have, more specifically for what you can show, you have. Just that I have that bit in me that is still from the old school does not mean I can love, respect, care and adore the real givers and not the pretenders. The puffed up chests of them that shows means more than the love and tears of those who care. That then is what the world has evolved into. And what the world expects me to evolve into.
Just that I don’t care…………

I live still in a world where prayer matters more that the advertised money contribution, the Holy Book more than the pompous proclamations of the man in the podium. I still care for the sweat that those who endeavored shed, not the postures the great contributor struck. The name on the emblazoned display board may be shown with the halo, however, where has the striver disappeared. Well if I were him that decided, he would be up there. Not that money and positions of power are not needed, but to each what is deserved.

Here are a few observations that I make with regards the dispensation of respect, prestige and privilege, deserved and not. Many people have different ideas about what respect means. I think it means having respect for others, and respect for yourself. Most people want respect even if it is just a little. People demand different amounts of respect, though not everyone is willing to give the amount needed. Maybe this is because not everyone knows what respect means. The last rule is respecting yourself. Respecting yourself can mean holding your head up high and respecting your own ideas. This means that feeling you get when you look at your own eyes in the mirror and able to hold it right there without flinching. You can share your ideas even if you might not thing they are right. But it should mean more than less important things like peer pressure, and not giving into it. It is about not letting it affect you in any way or sort. You cannot have respect for others if you cannot honestly respect yourself.

This is an era where you can buy respect and love online. There are groups where you can uphold great causes, you have no clue as to their need or objective, contribute virtually to unbuilt edifices and be creators of artifices in virtual existence. We have even seen upholders of law seated on the thrones of historic emperors, them that never had the time to have ones for themselves in their own time. Mankind has become idiotic enough to adore those who have the intelligence of owls and yet claim to be great being in the same vicinity.
Let us learn by giving values to what matters, not celebrated nothings.