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We then proceeded to see Mother Teresa's tomb where in an inconspicuous set up, her body was laid to rest. Nuns were busy loading ambulances with first aid supplies and food. We asked someone where they were going. "To the leprosy camps" they said and moved on to do their work. We walked five minutes from there to Shishu Bhavan where hundreds of abandoned children were being cared for. Little kids off the streets of Calcutta had a roof over their heads and food to eat. A few foreigners were lined up in the adoption centre filling out paper work. A nun showed us around. I could not muster up courage to visit the centre for mentally retarded children. It was located an hour away from the main centre.
Volunteers are the core of such centers. Drawn by what they have read, seen or heard of Mother Teresa and her work, they come from all corners of the world, at their own expense and work in these centers.
Growing up, my parents took my sister and me to an old age home in Mysore run by the The Little Sisters of the Poor, a
Missionary. These nuns have dedicated their lives to take care of the poor and the old in many countries. For nearly thirty years I have known them in Mysore. We took them fruits, vegetables; no donations were small and were accepted with love and humility. Now, my little niece, 5 years old believes on each birthday she needs to go there and have the old people sing to her and she needs to bring them sweets and money.
Most recently I was showing an Indian friend pictures of my recent trips to India that were on my computer. He wanted to see Banaras, the Holy city of Hindus. My folder was called "Calcutta- Banaras." So, I explained how I had gone to Calcutta to see the Missionaries first and then from there to Banaras. "I have been to Calcutta several times when I was younger", I said, "but now, I made a special trip to see The Missionaries of charity."
"Why? They convert everyone to Christians."
"Do you have any idea the kind of people they are serving? They are dying... In the cold... on the streets ...."
"Doesn't matter. Their goal is not to care; it is to convert everyone to Christians."
I was in a mood to discuss this further. "Why does it matter if they draw a cross when they are dying? They are dying with love and dignity." The man walked away. To my astonishment, my neighbor in a little town of Mysore and an immigrant, who has lived in the U.S. for over five decades were both turning a deaf ear. I had lost a small audience, but yet, my Hindu friend from Silicon Valley, is in Calcutta at Nirmal Hriday, holding a man in his arms who is dying, letting him know he is being loved, this moment, as he breathes his last breath.
I am very grateful to have parents who taught us to rise above caste and religion in a society which is evolving at a hideously slow pace. Young professionals are earning unforeseen amount of wealth in this decade. For most of us time is not in abundance but money is. We need to only cultivate a habit and not find an excuse to find institutions that are providing various services to humanity and open our wallets to make many such institutions which are an integral part of the society survive.
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