Yesterday I was introduced to a Brahman man named Nargyanan Krishna. He cooks food in large pots to feed hundreds of starving people who live and die on the streets of India. If this were the extent of what he did, one might think, "Well, that's great and all, but why mention him? There are lots of people who run non-profits." And I would probably agree.
But there is more to this story.
Mr. Krishna comes from a fairly well-to-do family in India- a country that is yet extremely class (or caste) conscience. Brahmans are not allowed to touch these destitute, starving, dirty, smelly, mentally ill and old people. There are many objections to even simple touching.
Touching.
What a word. So many meanings. All of them true of Mr. Krishna. In India, as in Korea where my genes lead backwards to, an education is a sign of privilege. It is the first step toward a life of comfort and prestige. Mr. Krishna had just finished his culinary degree and was offered a prime post in Switzerland as head chef at a lucrative restaurant. He had become an ingenious cook. He was only home for a short visit with his family before he was off to his new future.
Before leaving, however, something changed him, his destiny, India, and now anyone who should happen to know him, forever. He witnessed one of the many, many old men on the street-side eating his own excrement out of sheer human hunger. Never in his life had he seen such a thing. Being a lover of not only food, but also of the spiritual beauty of food, he couldn't bear to watch it. He had certainly seen hungry old people before. But this was different. Something visceral seized him His heart broke in his chest as he went quickly to buy food at a local vender. He held the old man with one strong arm and gently fed the food into the old man's mouth. His fingers touched the old man's lips lovingly. He watched the man's eyes close in satisfaction as the flavor of real food fed his body and as his human touch fed the man's soul.
At that moment, Mr. Krishna made a decision. A decision that separates him from the rest of humans. He decided instantly that he would quit everything he had worked for and would commit his life to feeding the human beings that had been thrown, as so much offal, to the sides of normal life. He not only feeds them, but he holds their feeble bodies in his lap and arms. He drapes their weak forms over his own sitting body and cradles them gently as they open their mouths like little babies awaiting food from their mother. They are so quiet. They say nothing as he does this. It is just pure pleasure and comfort for them. He washes their hair and their bodies with his own hands. He even cuts their hair and shaves them. All with a love that can only be described as Christ-like.
That was it. Just like that. No more chef job. No more comfort. No more prestige. No more family approval and praise. No more being Brahman.
He said, "And I thought to myself, what is the ultimate purpose of life?" God called on him in that seminal moment. And he stood up and said, "yes, I will do it".
Who could do this? No, that is the wrong question. Because we all could do this. That is where the shame lies. But who would do this?
That is the question that now bothers me. I should be writing about jewelry. I should be working on new engagement rings and wedding rings. I should be deep into creative mode right now. But having met Mr. Krishna, I feel the seeds of discontent threatening to explode to life within me. Doubts abound. Is it an excuse to say that I have three children to raise, a home to care for, a business to run? Is making beautiful things enough for my life to have purpose?
What is the ultimate meaning of life? It's easy, people. He knows what it is. I know what it is. You know what it is.
There is no easy way to end this story. Oh, I donated money to his non-profit as you can. It might help a little. But ultimately, I know and you know that we will not drop everything and give our lives to the service of humanity and God. Not in this way. Perhaps there is some comfort to be had in simply knowing that Mr. Krishna, and others like him, are out there doing our jobs for us. Let us at least be inspired by him. Let us at least give as much as we can during our busy lives. Let us touch the untouchables just a few times in our lives. Let us change even just a little. Let's make our art better than before. Let's be better parents, children, friends and co-workers. Let's do our very best every day. Most of all, let's be better human beings than we were yesterday. Let's be better because we can't be like Mr. Krishna. It is a small thing we can do in comparison. But I'll bet it would make Mr. Krishna smile if he knew that his simple kindness had inspired us to be so.
If you want to see more about Mr. Krishna, go to: http://www.akshayatrust.org/
But there is more to this story.
Mr. Krishna comes from a fairly well-to-do family in India- a country that is yet extremely class (or caste) conscience. Brahmans are not allowed to touch these destitute, starving, dirty, smelly, mentally ill and old people. There are many objections to even simple touching.
Touching.
What a word. So many meanings. All of them true of Mr. Krishna. In India, as in Korea where my genes lead backwards to, an education is a sign of privilege. It is the first step toward a life of comfort and prestige. Mr. Krishna had just finished his culinary degree and was offered a prime post in Switzerland as head chef at a lucrative restaurant. He had become an ingenious cook. He was only home for a short visit with his family before he was off to his new future.
Before leaving, however, something changed him, his destiny, India, and now anyone who should happen to know him, forever. He witnessed one of the many, many old men on the street-side eating his own excrement out of sheer human hunger. Never in his life had he seen such a thing. Being a lover of not only food, but also of the spiritual beauty of food, he couldn't bear to watch it. He had certainly seen hungry old people before. But this was different. Something visceral seized him His heart broke in his chest as he went quickly to buy food at a local vender. He held the old man with one strong arm and gently fed the food into the old man's mouth. His fingers touched the old man's lips lovingly. He watched the man's eyes close in satisfaction as the flavor of real food fed his body and as his human touch fed the man's soul.
At that moment, Mr. Krishna made a decision. A decision that separates him from the rest of humans. He decided instantly that he would quit everything he had worked for and would commit his life to feeding the human beings that had been thrown, as so much offal, to the sides of normal life. He not only feeds them, but he holds their feeble bodies in his lap and arms. He drapes their weak forms over his own sitting body and cradles them gently as they open their mouths like little babies awaiting food from their mother. They are so quiet. They say nothing as he does this. It is just pure pleasure and comfort for them. He washes their hair and their bodies with his own hands. He even cuts their hair and shaves them. All with a love that can only be described as Christ-like.
That was it. Just like that. No more chef job. No more comfort. No more prestige. No more family approval and praise. No more being Brahman.
He said, "And I thought to myself, what is the ultimate purpose of life?" God called on him in that seminal moment. And he stood up and said, "yes, I will do it".
Who could do this? No, that is the wrong question. Because we all could do this. That is where the shame lies. But who would do this?
That is the question that now bothers me. I should be writing about jewelry. I should be working on new engagement rings and wedding rings. I should be deep into creative mode right now. But having met Mr. Krishna, I feel the seeds of discontent threatening to explode to life within me. Doubts abound. Is it an excuse to say that I have three children to raise, a home to care for, a business to run? Is making beautiful things enough for my life to have purpose?
What is the ultimate meaning of life? It's easy, people. He knows what it is. I know what it is. You know what it is.
There is no easy way to end this story. Oh, I donated money to his non-profit as you can. It might help a little. But ultimately, I know and you know that we will not drop everything and give our lives to the service of humanity and God. Not in this way. Perhaps there is some comfort to be had in simply knowing that Mr. Krishna, and others like him, are out there doing our jobs for us. Let us at least be inspired by him. Let us at least give as much as we can during our busy lives. Let us touch the untouchables just a few times in our lives. Let us change even just a little. Let's make our art better than before. Let's be better parents, children, friends and co-workers. Let's do our very best every day. Most of all, let's be better human beings than we were yesterday. Let's be better because we can't be like Mr. Krishna. It is a small thing we can do in comparison. But I'll bet it would make Mr. Krishna smile if he knew that his simple kindness had inspired us to be so.
If you want to see more about Mr. Krishna, go to: http://www.akshayatrust.org/
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