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Saintliness
cannot be acquired. It has to be discovered as one's own essential nature.
when Iappreciate my incapacity to hurt or get hurt by an individual,
event or situation, I recognise the saint that I am. thus the sure mark
of a saint is this incapacity to wound or get wounded. Such a sanctimonious
person remains ever as fresh and innocent as a morning lily, as pliable
and tender as a tropical creeper, and as accommodating and unresisting
as the infinite space.
The
external expression of saints vary according to conditionings that they
have acquired down the millennia genetically, racially. But the essential
sweetness and fragrance that emanates through such expressions remain
the same. An Aurobindo cloistered in his wooden panelled study hatching
out of wonderful phrases, ideas and imageries, may appear diametrically
opposed to a Ramakrishna Parama Hamsa stammering out rustic tales and
anecdotes clumsily squatting on a rickety charpay. A Vivekananda roaring
down to the learned assembly of religious leaders, majestically dominating
the stage in his gorgeous orange robes may look an incongruent counterpart
of a Ramana Maharshi in his meager loin attire silently smiling to an
unlettered aspirant. A Christ on the cross meekly suffering the agony
of crucifixion may seem an absolute antithesis to Lord Krishna, whip
in his hand in the battle field exhorting the unwilling Arjuna to fight
a bloody war. A Naranattu Bhrantan gleefully immersed in his purposeless
labour of rolling a huge stone up and down the slopes of the mountain,
resting in the graveyards, contemptuously looking down upon the tempting
and seductive world may stand out ridiculous compared to a Krishnamurti
elegantly employing slick words and streamlined phrases in Oxford accent
to bring out the profound silence that he experiences.
From a peripheral view, these saints look different from each other.
But a perspicacious observer can see the golden cord of saintliness
running through all their apparently contradictory expressions. They
show a profound concern for the problems of the world, and an incredible
unconcern for their own. They have infinite capacity to patiently suffer
without being revengeful, to remain ever hopeful without being expectant;
they are always unpredictable and remain choicelessly alone. If nobody
answers their call they prefer to walk alone.
Saintliness
is born out of inner contentment, is an expression of a state of non-desiring.
The saint's inner plenitude is not the least affected by the lavishness
of his external munificence. That quality of total renunciation makes
him loving and lovable. Nobody is afraid of a saint and the saint is
afraid of anybody. Fear appears where give and take is involved.
Who
is a saint? What are his marks? What makes him saintly? What is the
essence of his saintliness? Arjuna asked these questions to Lord Krishna:
O Lord, tell me the marks of a wise man steadied in his vision."
Lord answered that one who is ever awareful and has a mastery over his
desires is a wise man, one who is contended with what he has, never
desiring for a change.
Slavery to desires is unsaintly. Hence, a saint, in Sanskrit is called
a 'Swami', a master. The saints strike no roots anywhere. They are pathless
people, their path cannot be mapped out nor can it be traced back. Their
callings are different, their source of inspiration is different. A
saint is ever victorious for his victories leaves none vanquished behind.
A victory without a victor and vanquished is a lasting victory. Such
victories leave no bitter memories, nor any need for revenge. Christ
murmured, 'O Lord, they don't know what they are doing'. He on the cross
betrayed no resentment or anger. He only felt sorry for his persecutors.
In this sense a saint is most unpredictable by the ordinary standards.
There can be scholarly or illiterate saints, mild or furious ones, flamboyant
or self-effacing, socially committed or socially unconcerned, dynamic
or dozing, of all shades and hues. Still they remain beyond all definitions,
far beyond the confines of social, historical and psychological categories.
They are what they are inspite of everything. They don't choose to be
saints, but they discover themselves to be saints. Theirs is the only
authentic, free and relaxed life. Their presence is often an enigma,
sometimes even a nuisance to the selfish conformist world. Their style
of living is a non-violent rebellion and a destabilizing factor in the
security-mongering hypocratic world.
A
saint is a disturbing question mark and his saintliness gives him the
authority to hurl at the world answerless questions. He is a mystery,
always secure, living the most insecure life. He is both the question
and the answer, the beginning and the end.