We did what we could... right?

Disclaimer: I usually try to write well. I did not try this time. But at least it's honest.

It was all fun and fellowship. Laughing and talking. Joking around. Being on vacation means you have a lot of time and perhaps this was a good way to spend the time. By helping people. Going to pack food packets to distribute to migrant communities.

I should have left after the packing. But I didn't have any work to do after and they needed an extra hand. So I joined them to go and distribute. We reached the place and found, according to someone there, 6000 people. We didn't have food for 6000 people. We had even less water. They were boarding BMTC buses after standing on queues under the sun for a long time. The buses would take them to the railway station where they would board trains for their home states.

We distributed the food. But we didn't have enough water. We requested the people to share 12 bottles of water among 35 people. Some said they need more. Some said there would be fighting among the people and so they were better off being thirsty. They hadn't had any water since morning. After a while we ran out of chutney so it was just rotis. And no water.

Trying to explain to people that there is less water and you have to share felt like talking to a wall. I started losing my patience. Perhaps we shouldn't have taken on this assignment. It was more trouble than it was worth.

We did what we could... right?

I don't know if I will ever get the answer to that question. Of course the work was tiring and I had a raging headache by 4 when we finished distributing the food and water. At least the sparse quantities we had. We had water for us though. I wanted to hide and drink it. After explaining to a man that we had no water. A man who hadn't had water since morning and who said he had some ailment. After that I was drinking an entire half bottle of water. But I had no choice right? There were kids on a bus where we gave 15 bottles. They were probably looking at me drinking the water mere minutes after telling them we didn't have more. But... We did what we could... right? Like... I wasn't obligated to do it... right?

A raging headache at 4. No strength even to cry. I wanted to cry though. I sat under a tree and waited for us to leave. I had no strength left.

Of course I have the option to say I'm too tired to go for the packing work tomorrow. Do those people have an option to... you know.... not do this anymore... ? Like, can they say, "I can't even anymore?"

And the people were being unreasonable right? Hiding a bottle and a food packet and saying they don't have one? I mean they are preventing others from getting it. But am I preventing others from having enough when I spend 70 bucks on a coffee at a fancy cafe?

I can still hear the sounds of people asking for water. I can still hear me and the people with me shouting at them that we don't have and that there wouldn't be any left for others. They hadn't had water since morning.

But we did what we could I guess...

Now I can just hold on to a promise 'those who mourn are blessed for they shall be comforted' [Mathew 5:4] and mourn. Because we did all that we could.... I guess.

Random thoughts on my apathy and hypocrisy

The Hindu today ran an article titled, 'The long march home on the other side of the Vindhyas', and it shook me. I wanted to help them. I wanted to do something. I wanted this to not be the reality I faced.

And yet, I was instantly reminded of the various times that I have failed to love these migrant workers. A few times while travelling by train from Rajnandgaon to Bangalore, or the other direction, there were a number of migrant workers on the journey along with me. Most of them would not have reserved tickets, and so would be illegally on the sleeper coaches. I would often argue and demand for my seat, claiming that I had a reserved seat. And I would often be irritated by their presence.

Today, I wonder what moral right do I have to criticize others (including the Government) for their treatment of these workers. Yes, according to the Government rules, it may not be right of them to try and go home. But we all understand that they still are willing to walk more than 2000 kilometers only out of desperation. But then it was the same before the lockdown right? They were not supposed to board the sleeper coach with a general ticket, but they did so out of desperation right?

I remember talking to a guy on the train on one of my journeys. He was travelling to Janjgir - Champa, and he said that he had paid the full sleeper charge and had booked a month in advance but did not get a confirmed ticket. It was essential he reach home by then. And even I could see the rush in the general compartment made it impossible to get in there.

The sight of these migrant workers walking on the road shows how desperate the pandemic has made their lives. But the fact that these people would consider walking such a distance when I sure wouldn't, perhaps points to the fact that their lives were already plenty difficult to begin with. The fact that they would consider such an option to act upon shows the way they have lived all their lives. I had not seen it till today.

If my family or friends had been among those crowd of migrants, I wonder if I would just be feeling bad and praying for them. Or even writing such blog posts. I wonder if I'd be doing more if I had near and dear ones among those walking home. This goes on to show that I don't love these migrant workers as much as I love my family or friends. The Biblical command to love my neighbour (which includes the migrant workers) as myself seems impossible when I can't even love them as much as I love my brother.

When the lockdown was announced, I flew home. My parents booked the ticket, which cost a total of 4237 rupees. They paid for it. Today a guy three years younger than me is trying to reach home. By foot. With 700 rupees in hand. And the distance more than 2000 kilometers.

Hope as the antidote to hate in modern political discourse

With increasing usage of internet, there has been an increase in the number of political conversations happening online. This is certainly a good thing. Information can easily be transferred and published. Details about policies, news events, and happenings, all reach people the very same day. And the ability to engage with a huge crowd of people online has increased these conversations.

However, we can also see increasing polarization in the political discourse online. Along with the polarization, there is also a lot of hate in the very language used in political discourse. This is especially true on online platforms. Go to any decisive issue and see the comments on news articles. Tags such as 'fascist,' 'libtard,' 'racist,' 'sexist,' 'bhakt,' 'liberandu,' and so on and so forth, are very common these days. This trend seems extremely troubling. But here is the problem.

How do you ask a victim to not use hateful language against the accused as well as those defending the accused?

A lot of events sparking these debates are extremely traumatic for the victims of the events. Whenever there is violence against minority communities, it is natural for the community across the society to feel threatened. In such circumstances, we cannot expect the community to use loving or politically correct language. Or when there are crimes against women, it is natural to use hateful language against the perpetrators (often men) and those defending them.

How do you ask a person who feels threatened for his survival to not use hateful language against those responsible for the threat?

There is a narrative popular in India that the majority community has been overlooked for long and there is a definite danger to the future of the said community. Discussing the truthfulness of the claim is beyond the scope of this article. But under such circumstances it would be natural for the community to use hateful language. Minority communities have always felt threatened. They continue to use hateful language.

How do we counter the hate?

The easy answer to this question would be 'love.'

But such an answer shows a callousness to the very real issues people face. It fails to assure them with a solution and is basically a trite, meaningless, platitude.

So what then is the answer?

I propose hope as the antidote to hate.

To be more specific, I propose hope as presented in the Christian worldview to be an effective antidote to hateful language. This hope is built on the Biblical belief of regeneration. That is seen in the vision of the apostle John, recorded in Revelation 21:4: "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." In other words, if heaven is real, I don't need to worry about my sufferings so much. Or as the apostle Paul put it, "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." [Romans 8:18]

If we are certain of this glorious future, we can face our present circumstances with joy. Which is what the early Christians did. The writer to the Hebrews says, "you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one." [Hebrews 10:34]

The example of Dietrich Bonhoeffer for hopeful resistance

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German pastor who spoke out against the atrocities of Hitler, even after repeated warnings from the SS. He gave up security in America and went back to Germany in 1939. He was finally hanged by the Nazi Government on 9th April, 1945 for conspiring against Hitler. But was he hopeful, and loving as a result of that hope? Bonhoeffer's response to a small incident when he taught a confirmation class in 1931 may give the answer. Before he entered class, some of the boys threw garbage at him as a prank. "But Bonhoeffer surprised them with his passivity" and eventually won them over. [Dietrich Bonhoeffer: A Life from Beginning to End; Hourly History; Chapter 8] Richard V Pierard writes in Radical Resistance, "from his shining example we learn that spiritual power will surely prevail over the forces of evil - but we must take an active part in that struggle." His part in the struggle was strongly rooted in the hope that evil would be destroyed.

Disclaimer

I realize that such a hope is founded on Christian beliefs, which not all my readers would ascribe to. So I request my Christian readers to be hopeful in the midst of hate (which is very possible in the future considering the present regime), and may that hope translate to love in discourse. That would be the biggest testimony to the reality of our hope.