Centuries ago, even before the great battle of Mahabharat had been fought on the dusty plains of Kurukshetra, there lived, deep inside the jungles of India, an old hermit. This hermit had renounced worldly pleasures and now taught young Brahmins how to use the bow and arrow. Such a great teacher he was, that kings and maharajas would send their sons to learn the skills of archery from the hermit. But the hermit hated kshatriyas and refused to teach any of the princes who came seeking him from far off lands.
One day, a bright young Brahmin came to him and asked the hermit to teach him the skills of using the bow and arrow. Charmed by the polite and respectful manners of the Brahmin boy, the old hermit took him into his fold and taught him all that he knew. The boy proved to be an eager and intelligent student and soon became the hermit’s favourite.
Few years later, one day when the boy’s education was almost completed, the hermit, tired after taking a walk in the afternoon sun, put his head on the boy’s lap and slept. Suddenly, from nowhere a scorpion came and struck at the boy’s leg with its poisonous tail. The pain was excruciating but the boy did not cry out in pain or move, lest his guru wake up. He merely flicked the scorpion away with his hand and sat still even though blood was flowing profusely from where the scorpion had stung him. The hermit woke up in some time and saw the blood flowing from his disciple’s leg. He asked what had happened and the boy told him about the scorpion. Instead of being happy that his student had borne so much pain silently so that his he could sleep peacefully, he started seething with rage. “You are not a Brahmin. No Brahmin could have suffered so much pain silently. Tell me who are you? ”, shouted the hermit.
“I am a kshatriya sire. I had lied to you so that you would teach me”, the boy replied.
“Since you have lied to learn from me, I curse you that when you need your knowledge the most, it will desert you”, screamed the furious teacher.
As you might have already guessed, the kshatriya pretending to be a Brahmin was Karna, the eldest son of Kunti, the mother of the Pandavas and the old hermit was Parshuram. And true to Parshuram’s word, when Karna need his knowledge during the battle of Kurukshetra, it deserted him and he was struck down by Arjuna.
Though a great sage and teacher, Parshuram had one failing – he judged a person by his birth not by his deeds. And this, unfortunately, is also a failing in many of us today. We claim to be a global village, yet we still judge people on the basis of their race, caste and creed. You will cheer Harbhajan Singh when he takes a wicket, yet crack a joke on sardars the very next minute. You were very happy when A. R. Rahman won the Oscar, but you were also very quick to scold your daughter for talking to that Muslim boy who lived down the street. You were very happy when Laxmi Mittal took over Corus, but were also the first to snidely remark that your classmate will treat you to dinner in a cheap restaurant on his birthday as he is a kanjoos Marwari. Isnt all this quite natural for many of us? Why are we such hypocrites? And why do we still cling to that stone age old thought that a man’s character is determined by the family that he was born in?
True, a man’s religion and family upbringing does have an impact on his personality, but we cant just stereotype a person because he is a Bengali, Gujrati, Marathi or Tamilian. Each newborn is like a blank canvas. His family, religion, friends and his own ideologies are the colours that paint the picture of his life. It is what a person does after his birth that determines his character not where or how he was born.
So, therefore, it is my humble request to all you readers that the next time you are prejudiced against a person because of his caste or religion, get to know him better first and who knows, you may be surprised at how wrong your earlier judgements were. And you may finally realise:
Men are equal; its not birth but virtue that makes the difference.
