Truth be Told

I am watching – on social media - a mother talking about her grief for her departed son. Only her eyelids are visible, for her eyes are downcast as she speaks. Nevertheless, they convey to me the image of two supermassive black holes roiling with pain-energy. Those waves of pain are reaching out from the impartial monitor and enveloping me in an empathetic gas cloud. 

With sparse words she conveys her emotions, her despair, and her struggle to gain a foothold and effect a comeback on the very, very slippery slope of personal loss. Words that may move a listener to tears. Or may not. For she is reaching out to the sisterhood of mothers across the world - who alone can understand her benumbing grief.

But at the end of it all, at the bottom of it all,  hers is a personal narrative of regeneration. Now her words are acquiring, albeit gradually, a tinge of hope, a ray of positivity.

No pain, no gain, they say. What can one gain from the pain of losing a loved one to death? Death is a depthless chasm only the dead can cross. Those left behind are left to cope as best they can. And mothers? Probably they are the worst- affected because the umbilical cord is cut only in reality, hardly ever on the emotional level.

How then do you regenerate yourself, as this particular mother did? By reaching out to others experiencing pain.

Your pain – others gain.

In alleviating others’ pain, you alleviate your own. That is the way of the wise, the ones who take themselves by their own hand (with a bit of help – or a lot of it - from outside) and turn back from the precipice of anguish. This mother’s long story of how she was devastated and how she snatched her own life from the jaws of another’s death has been conveyed in just a few words. Long story short. In an unprecedented way, perhaps.

 From her few choked words, one listening to her could learn to stop thinking of oneself and start thinking of, and living for and serving others who are still thrashing around  in their private self-spun webs of pain.

But, this blog is not as much about pain as it is about words. In today’s world, there is an all-out, clangorous War of The Words.

Why do we see such a determined effort, world-wide, to use words as weapons to inflict pain? To ensure gain for self or for some other vested interest? There are many who have made it their business and their "principle" in life,  to use words to misrepresent things-as-they-really-are. To mock at truth, at fact and figures. Because they feel they have the power to turn the truth on its head. Because there are many who will hear those words, but will be unable, or unwilling, or maybe even defiantly unwilling, to listen to the lies that those words convey.

Today, the ability and the willingness of the reading public, the hearing audiences, the hearing-and-seeing-simultaneously social-media viewers, is seriously on trial.

Words are being hijacked, language ransomed. It is the consumers of these lies who have to free themselves in order to enable and empower themselves to consume the right thing. To consume truth. And not lies-disguised-as-truth, however orchestrated may be the presentation of lies disguised as truth.

That is the way to reclaim our freedom, and the way to remain worthy inheritors of all the freedoms we today enjoy.

The World Culture Festival – a Maha Kumbh Mela for World Peace

The World Culture Festival conflated everything with everything else. So it is difficult to calm my seething writer’s-mind long enough to decide on where to begin my blog. I “take a long… deep…normal breath in, and let go”, and begin at the beginning.

In the year/months/days/hoursminutessecondsnanosconds leading up to the World Culture Festival, millions around the world who were connected with it in some way or the other would have experienced a gamut of emotions. Of highs and lows.

When I made up my mind to attend, it was against the frantic cautions of some of my office team. The discouragement centered on my age (no, I am not telling), on the fact that I am diabetic, on the vast area of the venue. “You have to walk a lot, there will be no transportation.” the objections ran on.

 But one day, the WCF penny just dropped, and before I knew it my air ticket was booked, my bag packed. 

The sense of wonder began right on the flight. Picture this: a planeload of foreigners all bound for the WCF. When the airhostesses came around to take meal choices, all the internationals opted for “vegetarian!” O! the influence of that One Man!

At last came the moment: ground zero, Day 1, March 11, 2016. The excitement-o-meter ratcheted right up. 

The speeches of dozens of visibly-moved dignitaries, the eclectic, electric, electrifying performances of dance and music from around the world. The incredible stage - an architectural startler. The even more incredible patterned-lighting. The awesome acoustics. But these were merely the mundane elements of the mind-boggling spectacle that unfolded in front of my eyes.

What made a huger impact on me was the soul-stirring variety of people on a single stage: an ocean of people drawn from opposite – and opposed - ends of a variety of spectra: politicians rubbing shoulders with their political opponents; religious heads standing shoulder to shoulder with their equivalents from different religions, thought leaders and retired statesmen from diametrically-opposite persuasions. The dividing lines between fierce opposites seemed to have melted like cheese on a pizza in a heated-to-capacity oven. 

As several speakers expressed, it was only Gurudev who could have engineered this unbelievable assembly of opposites.Only he who could inspire with his vision - and galvanize with his example -the thousands of volunteers in far-flung locations on this planet who did all that was necessary to put 35,000 artistes from 155 countries on one stage. With an audience of 3.5 million.  

So many aspects competed for my gaze: the dazzling variety of nationalities, costumes, complexions, headgear, instruments, dance forms and dance-steps added to the pulsating ambience. The very apparent bonhomie on stage. The sky-high enthusiasm of the audience.

The weather Gods, looking down on the splendid kaleidoscope of color, form, and movement below, decided to display their own might. It was a one-in-a-million meteorological revelation that unfolded! It began on the first evening with an exuberant breeze turning into a sharp rainfall which pelted the performers and the audience with hailstones. The second day the afore-mentioned Gods playfully puffed out their cheeks and blew fiercely at all and everything in their sight. Then we got a lashing of wind and rain that etched an unforgettable, gargantuan double-rainbow that arced beautifully from one end of the 7-acre stage to the other. Joy and wonder mirrored in the eyes of the millions who witnessed it. 

But joy and pain are two sides of the same coin. Gurudev’s life-long dream of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam was all set to walk off the pages of ancient Hindu scripture and spring onto the WCF stage. Then along came the motivated, self-appointed nay-sayers with their newly-minted concerns about the “flood-plains” of what was basically a stench-spewing, sewage-watered canal no self-respecting buffalo would be seen entering into! See … some problems come with the territory. Sorry, just punning! 

The self-appointed “spokes”persons’ agenda seemed to be more about putting said “spokes” in the wheel, I guess, than speaking up – with authentic facts and figures - for their purported cause. So the song and dance was not just on the stage. Is it too much, I wonder, to ask certain segments to reflect at least a little on the untenability of their musings and writing? 

Maybe the hardest thing to overcome is the insidious colonialization of the media-mind. But – happily - the idea of world-peace is an idea “whose time has come.” And Gurudev is ever there to bring us all back to our center.

Speaker after well-known speaker at the podium affirmed that the Festival had brought all of humanity together to celebrate its diversity. 

To me the WCF was also a celebration of India’s centuries-strong, unitive, ‘soft” contributions to the world. This is an aspect of the WCF that cannot be drowned out, or deducted from, by highly-motivated, small-minded criticism. 

The glory of the WCF is that its core values have already fallen, like organic seeds, into the fertile soil of all right-thinking, enthusiastic, forward-looking and positive minds that had congregated there. And begun germinating into good thoughts and sankalpas for world peace and unity. For truth, inclusivity, and love. And for world-seva.

Several nations have expressed their desire to host the next edition of the World Culture Festival. For my part, I look forward to a more positive, un-biased host-media, whichever country wins the honor to hold this all-the-world-on-a-stage.

 As for the Art of Living, it can only go from strength to strength, powered by love and humility. The love and the humility of Gurudev, and the love and commitment of its millions-strong volunteers.

Jai Gurudev. Jai Hind.

Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All – at the WCF, and Outside It.

Amidst the high spirits, high-fives and hurrahs of the super-charged World Culture Festival held recently, 11-13th March at Delhi, as a celebratory salute to the Art of Living’s 35 years of service to the world, there lay a  powerful if subdued undercurrent to the celebrations. The Festival also witnessed the trustful coming together of nations, interest-groups, entities, and individuals from opposite, at times opposed, ends of many types of spectra.  

Sri Sri Ravi Shankar With the FARC Leaders

This is the Art of Living Founder, Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar’s ground-breaking, seminal contribution to contemporary world history - to remove ”inimical”  from the lexicon of human interaction, and get groups at conflict with each other to find ways to make peace with each other.

 He has facilitated the total and – more importantly - lasting metamorphosis of radicals, political opponents, criminals and even armed terrorist groups, and helped them see that that the other side too has been through pain, despair, loss and bereavement. That all of humanity is on the same side and there is no ‘other’ out there.

For those unfamiliar to the Art of Living or its 35 year old record of work, it might be difficult to grasp the mind-boggling diversity at the WCF and at the Global Leadership Forum. What (or who ) on earth could get such diverse groups together to dance and sing and confer and deliberate, and glory in their differences?

The answer would be - they witnessed and experienced, individually and collectively, the Art of Living Founder, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar’s transformative genius at work, melting the barbed-wire-barricades of bitterness, and transforming the hostility and aggression between sworn enemies to create a space where hostility and arms can be thrown aside – by both sides - and bones of contention buried with a new give-and-take perspective. Where both parties understand that the gentle mediator wants the best for both of them.

 Gurudev’s reputation precedes him, to open hatred-mined national gates and dismantle formidable diplomatic walls. Drawbridges are lowered and  he is accorded access to unapproachable groups, be it Tamil refugees in Sri Lanka, or the FARC guerrilla group of Colombia, war-torn Iraq, trigger-happy armed extremists in India, or dreaded prisoners in high-security jails across the world, because he is acknowledged as having no agenda of his own. His impartiality and disinterestedness have become legend. His immunity to lobbying has led to the world trusting – and respecting - his objectivity and fairness.

Gurudev Sri Sri’s has been an exceptional and unprecedented journey as international peace-maker, flying under the radar, far and away from the self-serving arc lights of publicity. He has placed himself above the frenzy to claim credit. Merited or otherwise.

It has been a chequered mission of peace – bringing the most unlikely of groups to the negotiating table to sort out and think through solutions to age-old conflicts. He is a globe-trotting, continent-straddling ombudsman: several far-flung conflict-zones have been the beneficiaries of his One-World-Family mission.

The WCF witnessed powerful and iconic speakers who underlined the unitive and peace-enhancing contributions of Sri Sri and the Art of Living. The Global Leadership Forum also saw stellar opinion-leaders from diverse fields exploring ways to transcend the dichotomies in today’s world through inner peace leading to outer peace.

Says Sri Sri, “Inner peace is the key for world peace. You cannot have world peace with individuals who are boiling from the inside, ready to explode. If such people are at the helm of affairs then not only the person explodes, but the countries and communities explode.” 

And so that game-changer - the inner world of conflict - is addressed by diverse  Art of Living programs that help individuals overcome stress and dysfunction. They first find reserves of inner peace, strength and renewed confidence, and then progress to contributing to the community, the society and the world around them. Self-interest and separate-ness are transcended and individuals begin seeing the other as a part of themselves: Inner peace is the key for world peace.

Hopefully, at the WCF, the youth, otherwise so marooned on their electronic islets, experienced the commonalty of mankind, felt the oneness that binds every part of the universe with the other. No matter the differences, the contrasts in habits, complexions, languages, costumes, lifestyles. The sheer scale and the diversity of the gathering helped them experience that there is only one heritage – the heritage of humanity. And, equally hopefully, they would have made a decision to pitch in and work for a fairer, more harmonious and equitable future for the human race.

The World Culture Festival will be prove to be that point in time-space when “One-World Family” ceased to be a concept and manifested as a felt reality for millions across this multi-cultural, multiracial, multi-everything planet we call home.

This is the power of one man’s vision.

Padma Koty