At our year-end meeting, someone asked, “Imagine you were on your deathbed. What are the three things that you wish you could have done better? How would you like to be remembered?”
When my turn came I said:
First I wish I could have lived a real life as a recluse as I always wanted, with minimum contact with others and outside world.
Second, I wish I could have invented more recipes to prepare new foods and pickles.
Third, I wish I would have taken at least a few things seriously in my life; in general I never take anything seriously.
After reflecting on the question more, I got to thinking about my last statement. I always like to live in the present rather than think about the past or worry about the future; thus I never take anything seriously. For example, when I lived at Mathigiri I almost forgot the ashram and I didn’t allow it to bother me too much.
The same is true now. Now that I have come here to live for a short period, I don’t worry much about the Mathigiri house. The same is true with almost every aspect in my life—including Mukti. As I have already shared in another article (My Experience with Muktinath), I don’t even take the mukti after death very seriously. Since I am already enjoying my mukti in the Lord while I am living, I won’t miss it much, even if it is not there after death. If it is there then fine, I will continue to enjoy it. But for me the present life I live in the Lord (enjoying my mukti and celebrating my bhakti) is more important for me.
This does not mean that I don’t regret certain things that I have done in the past. But as I cannot do anything about it now, I must simply learn a lesson from it and try not to repeat it. I will try to press forward towards the future while living in the present. Similarly, I have anxiety about the future like everyone. But after doing everything I have to do, I will leave the rest with the Lord to take care of it. For example, as I planned my North trip in 2017, I booked all my tickets but I didn’t worry much whether any train will get de-railed or got I might be killed in an accident (and if that happens I will be most happiest person).
But this should not be considered as ‘situational ethics’ or ‘self-centeredness’.
When the person who raised the question pointed out that there are several inconsistencies in my statement, I agreed. “But that is part of my life,” I said. “I cannot avoid contradiction, neither in my statements nor in my life, because that is what life is.”
For example when I try to live in the present and not take things seriously, this does not mean I don’t care about others and their needs. When my mother stayed with me, I saw that I did my best to make her life happy as possible. And I think that is part of my responsibility.
Similarly when I stay in the ashram, I do my best to take care of it and also feed those who come here for a visit or meeting. Similarly when I make a cross stitch I see that I do it as perfectly as possible and happily give it to others. But I never take these things seriously in my life. Several people to whom I gave my cross stitch are keeping it very carefully in their cupboards to feed it to the silverfish rather than enjoying it by displaying somewhere in their house. I feel sad about it because I know how much time and energy I spent to make it. But since they won’t take it seriously, I wish I could have gifted it to others who can enjoy it. But if they don’t enjoy it, even though I feel sad and sorry for them, I never take it seriously and never pester them to frame it and display it in their house so that others can appreciate and praise my talent.
Similarly when others shared about how they wish they could be remembered after their death, I deliberately didn’t say anything about it. I know that soon people are going to forget us. I asked about a few people in church history and most of the participants even didn’t know their names. Of the few who are remembered and debated, most remain only an interesting character in the academic circle and common people won’t remember them very long. That is why for Hindus nobody is expected to remember their ancestors beyond the fourth generation or do some kind of ritual for them. Throughout history, very few people will be remembered like Buddha, Socrates, Muktinath, Prophet Muhammad, Abraham Lincoln, Hitler, Mahatma Gandhiji, etc. That is why Pattinatthar said:
ஊரெல்லாம் கூடி ஒலிக்க அழுதிட்டு
பேரையும் நீக்கிப் பிணம்மென்று பெயரிட்டு
சூரையம் காடிடை கொண்டுபோய் கொளுத்திட்டு
நீரினில் மூழ்கி நினைப்பொழிந்தனரே–பட்டினத்தார்
All gather together and cry (for sometime)
Then removing the name, they call it a ‘dead body’
And burning it at the cremation ground
Taking a dip in the water they forgot completely
—Pattinattar (quoted from memory)
I never said anything related to my bhakti or religious life in those three points. For example I never said that “I wish I could have remained more faithful to the Lord in my life and also to others.” Because for me, something like “remaining faithful” is relative. According to my understanding I lived completely, fully, totally, perfectly, (add more adjectives) in my life.
Even the little faithfulness that I exercised is complete in that situation/occasion for the Lord. If I was on my deathbed, I would never ask God to give me another chance so that I would remain MORE faithful than where I failed. Suppose God grants that request; can I really live more faithfully than where I have failed?
Considering my nature I can never remain faithful even up to my own expectation. But knowing my limitation, God accepted even the little faithfulness that I exercised as complete and perfect as I am now covered by His RIGHTEOUSNESS. So even on my deathbed, if I get another lease, I am going to remain either the same unfaithful person or completely faithful because of His righteousness. Then why should I ask to have a second chance or wish I had done better?
That is why I never take these kinds of terms very seriously. In response to the original question, a few said they would like to be remembered as a good husband/father/brother/son, etc. But for me, as we generally don’t talk ill of the dead, all are going to remain a good person. (Though many life partners might secretly thank God for giving deliverance from that person in their life.)
I will remain good today and bad next week and again become good after that. It all depends upon not how I live but how others let me live. As a social animal, no person can remain good or bad on her own terms. It depends upon others’ contribution and participation in her life. Forgetting this ground reality, even trying to analyse our life based on hypothetical questions and imagined idealistic view looks very artificial to me (though I enjoyed such a discussion as it gave a break from our regular form of studies).
For example, even if I get a chance to live as a recluse, am I really a recluse if I can’t escape from myself? I don’t have a split personality, but I would spoil my own reclusive life. It is like giving a big talk about the glory of silence. The moment you talk, share, or even think about silence, it ceases to remain. Similarly as long as I have to live with me, there is no hope for any life of a recluse.
At least I will remember this discussion on my deathbed (assuming I have the mental strength) and I won’t beg God to give me another chance to live this life better than before.
Db
26-12-16