A world without borders

Sai Baba's death has brought to light many "indiscrepancies" in the perceptions of the common man of the world around him, and I've experienced the "Indian dream" in all of them by way of talking to and listening to my grandparents. As always, the "dirt" was what they went for first: what would happen to Baba's assets ("that purportedly amounted to Rs. 400 cr.")? Who would take up the leadership of the Sathya Sai Trust?

The town of Puttaparthi that had come to life and much socio-economic success around him had a university (somehow unlike the tens of universities strewn across India), a super-speciality hospital, clean roads, communal harmony, etc., etc. Much louder is not the voice that boasts but the voice that complains. Calls abound for state and central governments to imbibe the model of "governance". Do these people know the difference between management and government? Do they know that if Puttaparthi held a population of a little more than a million people, the linearity of economic proportions would just evaporate? Do they know that the taxes that we ought to pay to our government are the equivalent of the donations that the Sathya Sai Trust receives?

The line between learning and applying, especially when large volumes are concerned, is marked by a precipice, and what the devotees of this godman have "learnt" is not the lessons but the facts concerning the lesson, while the conclusion has been dissolved in a miasma of selfishness - which is not altogether condemnable - that clouds the students' judgment. The Sathya Sai Trust executes the will of one man; the Indian government executes the will of the nation (or, at least, exists to do so). The Sathya Sai Trust does not demand fees for hospitalization or education but devotees have been known to write over fortunes accrued over decades to the trust; the Indian government asks for a reasonable fraction of your salary that, when put together and smartly mobilized, gives you the growth rate to boast of in public forums. The Sathya Sai Trust has no obligations to grow.

When the populace of one town decides to live in harmony under the auspices of one man who unites them all in the name of a "God" who preaches non-violence, it does not mean that a nation of 1.2 billion can afford to disregard its secularism and allow religion and politics to emulsify - an act that would justify, even in part, the bigotry of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh or the Lashkar-e-Taiba.

Perhaps, instead of crooning for introspection amongst millions of people, it would be easier to let them stew in their filth. Blood, I believe, becomes suddenly precious when thousands before me have "laid down" their lives in order to better - to enhance - the perceptions of a people suffering for the sensibilities of the past. Blood becomes precious when a world without borders manifests itself, a world that will mindlessly make extinct those who are not willing to think anew. I will not fight lest I am allowed to fight my own battles, and I will not fight lest I am allowed to choose my own weapons.

The "condition" of the nation is such that, at its roots, it is one man against the universe. If a reincarnation of God promises the arrival of good times, then here's my money. If a reincarnation of God promises what the living manifestation of a weakened dictator (or, the ideal PM with an ideal cabinet) has never been able to promise, then yes, he is truly greater who promises free medical care on a thousand beds. If a reincarnation of God has been deft enough to oust the publicly-instituted micro-economic establishment in the region, then yes, he has truly accomplished what a 60-year old government could not. Ye fucking dipshits! Nothing will be good enough for you and that is why, one glorious day, you will not be heard! For this reason, I do not blame the institution of religion or the priests at its helm - there is an inherent and frighteningly native trait amongst us that distrusts honesty and engages freely in an orgy of materialism and materially-awarded pain.

The government is to be seen as embodying two points, two distinct focii: necessity and existence [?]. In other words, the government is the collectivized body that represents the existence of the undesirable but (therefore) necessary other self apart from me. I am a part of the government just as much as I am not a part of it. The Sathya Sai Trust, on the other hand, is the collectivized will of one man who himself is just as much a part of the government as he is not a part of it. He is extant but not necessary (posited as an arm of "need"). He provides for the satiation of the "man vs. universe" battle, the only outcome of which is victory; the government provides for the "man vs. man battle", the only allowable outcome (by definition) of which is progress. Therefore, keep in mind this seemingly insignificant distinction - a distinction that permeates all levels of law-making and policy-framing.

As much as I may begrudge the existence of a godman, I also hope that when the next one emerges, the people learn the lesson itself instead of gathering the facts as may befit their unfortunate needs.