Living in 2 worlds

It has been few months since I returned from visiting a location of our nation, which is not too visible for most of us in the visible, incredible and promoted India. Physically I am back, but like the story of the porters in Africa who felt the speed has been too much and they were waiting for their souls to catch up, 1 my soul is still some where there, in the valleys beyond the Eastern Ghats. My mind is still processing the various things I saw and heard.

As I left the airport from the nearest city, the concrete jungles with huge billboards, the large worship places of free market economy, the malls, with its own beauty, I was treated to another beauty. The beauty of, the jungles, hills and valleys and 6 hours of flying through the bumps, hairpin bends with no net connectivity.

The person who was driving me, was in his early twenties, a recently married young local man. After couple of hours of flying through these roads, he asked me, can I talk to you about something. The questions surprised me. Sir, will Odisha rupee work in Delhi? I assured him that we have only one currency for our nation, and it will work anywhere in our nation. The next question was can Odisha money work in Dubai? And can a I drive this car and go to Dubai? We had an interesting ongoing conversation about life, future and money. I was left with the realization, that his questions were genuine, with a deep desire to move on in life may be build a future in Delhi or Dubai where he can find fulfilment of his aspirations and dreams.

Over next three days, staying in a Mission hospital community, I heard many other stories. Story of the young man who fell from a tree and tore his liver. He could not be operated in the nearest medical college, which was sixty kilometers away, and could not afford the referral to 250 kms away and came back. Finally cared for by a young health team who operated on him in the small community hospital and now he is on the road to recovery.

I heard about how farmers who are forced to sell their ginger that they produce at three rupees a kilo to the middlemen from the visible India, who sell ginger in the market at 30-40 rupees a kilo. Farmers who are forced to sell vegetables at throw away prices to the incredible India, since if they do not sell immediately, it will rot.

I heard about the trucks that come in every other week to pick up the many youths who have no jobs and take them to the city 250 kilometers away to work on the booming construction business in the incredible and visible India at extremely low daily wages. I heard about young girls being taken off to the city for similar jobs, but with a fear of their safety expressed in the conversations.

I heard about the many children who have stopped going to school because of the post covid economic constraints the families are facing. I heard about a girl who attempted suicide in one of the neighboring hotels, out of what frustration, one does not know, but one among the many rural suicide attempts.

I also send time with a few well-educated youths, who are journeying with these communities. A few of them, local youth but who had the lucky break of moving ahead in life but have come back to see if they can make a difference for their own community. Engaging with families, farmers, non-formal schools and other avenues of engagement. Many others, well educated professionals from other parts of the nation, living and journeying with these communities. Some helping in the farms, others in the school or hospital, some setting up businesses, because they have seen something that most of us in the incredible visible India has not seen.

The community in the invisible India, uneducated and challenged, are their brothers and sisters, with the same image of God in them too. These people have dream and aspirations, like they have, but do not have that support system to make those dreams and aspirations come true. Their own life was dependent on the lives on these people from visible India, who produce the agrarian products they use, and provide the support systems for their life in the visible India where they grew up. They have sense of gratitude, because they see what they have, as gift that they have received from God. They see the life they are currently living in the invisible India as a privilege given to them. Privilege to give back to God and these communities that God loves, using their skills talents and just living and journeying with them. They recognize that their lives have become richer and fuller, by such journeys.

They follow a Master who role modeled such a life. Choosing to be born in an unknown small town, deciding a grow up in a village from where no good was expected, far away from the visible and incredible corridors of power and national structures. One who aligned his life with the invisible in the nation, the shepherds, the fisher men, the marginalized and the rejected, and made time to move out into the villages and even towns of their national enemies. Moved by love and compassion, to be with them, to call them his friends and to make them know everything He has heard from His father and give up his life for them.

Even though I am back living and engaging in the promoted incredible visible India this season of life, I hope my soul will continue to linger in the invisible India. But then I realize, all around me there is the invisible India too. I hope I will have eyes to see those who are invisible around me too.

www.paulborthwick.com/take-time-to-let-your-soul-catch-up/

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