Columnists

Remembrances of Things Past

by MANPREET KAUR SINGH

 

The newsprint and airwaves have been jammed with talk of the Dalai Lama's impending visit to Australia  -  what is the right protocol, who should meet him, should senior politicians bow to pressure from China and ignore him, etc.

But my mind just filtered out the controversy attached to his visit and instead, began unearthing childhood memories of when I actually met him in person.  And that, in turn, led to my reliving wonderful moments spent in the company of two other influential people (Sobha Singh and Mother Teresa), who left a deep impression on me during my early years.

The mind has a way of storing fond memories in the deepest of crevices, and a way of recalling them, complete with the emotions and the puerile awe with which they were first created.

I was in Grade Two,  around seven years of age, when my father (an officer in the Indian Army), was posted to Yol. Yol was an army camp, situated in the scenic Dharamsala district (then in Punjab, India), which also served as the seat of the Tibetan government-in-exile. 

I distinctly remember visiting the Dalai Lama at his quarters  -  nothing really grand, in fact, fairly dark, like any other gompa (monastery) would be.  There was no electricity and oil lamps (probably burning with yak lard) dotted the dingy pathways of its corridors.

My nose still cringes when I recall that smell, because it was so overpowering in those confines.

Then we entered a bright room, where this radiant person was sitting, awaiting our arrival.  He had the sunniest of smiles, and an affability that any child could relate to straight away. 

It was, of course, the Dalai Lama. He instantly picked me up and put me in his lap.  I don't really remember anything of what he said, but I recall that his presence was very reassuring, and his smile infectious. 

I was enjoying the experience, until the Dalai Lama asked one of the monks to bring milk for the children (my brother and I, of course).

The idea sounded good ... until the milk arrived. We could smell it instantly  -  it was yak's milk and, to someone who was only used to having Bournvita- flavoured milk, it was the foulest, most disgusting thing I had ever smelt!! 

Nevertheless, even though as a child I didn't really know who the Dalai Lama was or how significant he was in the global landscape, it was still an unforgettable experience.  Especially his smile.... even though I was unaware of it then, it has stayed with me for so many years. 

Now, it can be a part of my conscious awareness for the rest of my life, and no one  -  certainly no controversy -  can take its radiance away.

The same year, 1978 I think it was, we traveled to Andretta  -  a small hamlet in Himachal Pradesh, situated near Palampur. 

We went to the house of Sobha Singh, and the only thing I had heard from Mum and Dad about him was that he was the artist who had painted the original of the "portrait" of Guru Nanak, a copy of which adorned our house. 

When we met him, to my child's eye, he was the tallest man I had ever seen  -   and his arms were so long they nearly touched his knees! He had a flowing white beard and he wore a spotless white kurta-pyjama, as white as the snow  -   and that's how he was always dressed each time we visited him. 

He showed us around his house  -  even his room was snow-white.  The walls, the furniture, the linen, everything!

I remember the lovely aviary which had the tiniest, greenest parrots, and other exotic birds of all hues.

But my favourite was the tall archway in the garden, which was covered with grapes.  He would pick me up, so that I could pluck some grapes without having to go on tippy-toes, and watch me eat them.

Then, he took us to visit the large gallery room filled with his paintings; but before entering, he took his shoes off. I noticed one shoe had a much bigger heel than the other: for some reason, one leg was shorter than the other. 

Isn't it silly how such a minor detail has stayed with me, but not too much of the conversation.  Perhaps that's the innocence of childhood.

But yes, there is something he said that I do remember  -  that he had a vision about  Guru Nanak's face and began the famous painting ages ago.  But when it came to Guruji's hand, held vertically with the palm facing outwards (as if blessing the onlooker), he was stumped.  He didn't know what the lines on the palm of Guru Nanak's hand would or should look like. 

So he stopped painting the portrait any further and actually studied palmistry for many years to create an authentic artist's impression of what the lines should be like. 

That's about the only conversation I remember, apart from the magnificent painting of Heer sitting in her doli (palanquin) with Ranjha looking on dolefully.  What struck me was how detailed Heer's features were, even under the gossamer of a veil.  

And there was the famous Sohni Mahiwal, a print copy of which we had at home, too.

But most of all, what has stayed with me was his awe-inspiring personality  -  his presence filled me with wonderment, his work seemed unmatchable and his sagacity was there for all to see.

When I was in Grade Six, I was studying in St Maria Goretti School at Bareilly (Uttar Pradesh, India).  We had a special celebration in 1982 and Mother Teresa was to be the chief guest.

I remember participating in the solo skit competition and winning the second prize  -  which was given to me by Mother Teresa.  It's only when I walked up to her, I realized that even as a 12-year-old, I was as tall as her! 

And, for the first time, I realized one doesn't have to be really tall to be "great".  Although I didn't get to speak to her, I could sense her heartfelt humility as well as her pure love, even for complete strangers like us.

So today, I'm glad that there is a media frenzy about the Dalai Lama's impending Australian trip.  It has propelled me on a powerful voyage down memory lane, through the forgotten caverns of the mind, reminding me of the smiling Dalai Lama, the sagacious Sobha Singh and the humble Mother Teresa, all of whom had a strange radiance, a sort of aura surrounding their presence. 

Reminiscing in those glorious memories, I wonder if there really are angels on earth.  Well, if there are, they probably don't have wings. Somehow I feel I've been touched by three of them in my privileged childhood days. Maybe I didn't realize it before, but the distinct message is to be humble and sagacious through life and always smile through adversity. 

Now that I know this, I hope and pray that I can live by it, too.

 

[Images on this page:  Top of the page, and thumbnail  -  The Dalai Lama. Bottom of the page  -  Mother Teresa, from a painting by Donna Haney. Second from bottom  -  detail from a painting of Guru Nanak by Sobha Singh. Third from bottom  -  Sobha Singh.]

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