A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR
A historical incident published in The Times of India Supplement, The Neighbourhood Star (March 18-24, 1989) has lesson for us all. It seems that when the first batch of Parsis from Iran landed on the west coast of Gujrat, their community leader–their peshwa–went straight to the ruling monarch, Yadav Rana and requested him to allow the Parsis to stay in his state. The Raja uttered not a word in reply, but simply handed the Peshwa a glass full to the brim with milk. This was meant to show him that his state already had its full measure of population and that there was no room for any more people.
The Peshwa did not answer in words either. His response was simply to add a spoonful of sugar to the milk and to return it forthwith to the Raja. This was his way of saying that the Parsis would sweeten their milk–not take possession of it. That is to say that their presence would add sweetness to the life of the state. The Raja was pleased with this response and gave them his permission to stay in Gujrat.
One thousand years have passed since this incident took place, and history has shown how the Parsi Peshwa’s words came true. This was because the members of the Parsi community did not waste their time in launching demand and protest movements throughout the country. Instead, they contributed to the progress and development of the country by working harder than everyone else. They made advances, particularly in the fields of education and industry, thus adding to the wealth of the country. In a situation where there were so many ‘taker’ groups, they achieved, by dint of consistent striving, the status of a ‘giver’ group. They knew the secret of the good life. In this world, it is the giver who prospers. Those who ‘sweeten’ the ‘milk’ of others find positions of honour for themselves. On the contrary, those who have only bitterness for others, will receive bitterness from them in return.
If you want to receive something, enter the world with a “gift card.” If you enter with a “demand card,” you will find nothing here.
On August 24, 1988, I met Mr. P.D. Malhotra, who was born in 1935. He has served as the Publications Manager at the Sahitya Akademi in New Delhi for about 30 years. He recalled that one day he was late leaving the office. When he finally stepped outside, it was already midnight. As he was riding his scooter, he reached a street where a police officer stopped him and asked to see his driver’s license.
Mr. Malhotra reached into his pocket, and alongside his driving license, he pulled out another card. Holding both cards, the police officer asked what the second card was. It was, in fact, an Eye Donor Card. This card bore the individual’s signature along with a statement declaring, “I have gifted my eyes to the nation. Kindly inform the nearest Eye Bank immediately on my demise and help them to fulfil my desire. Thanks.”
The police officer was initially very curt in his manner. However, upon seeing the Eye Donor Card, his tone changed instantly. Without further inspection, he said, “Go ahead, go ahead.”
In modern times, eye donation is seen as an act of nobility. TV appeals often use emotional language: “There is only one thing in the world that you can give to someone.” When the police officer saw Mr. Malhotra’s Eye Donor Card, he viewed him as a respectable and caring person. The card became a symbol of Mr. Malhotra’s generosity, softening the police officer’s attitude toward him.
In this world, those who give are also recipients. The person who gives to others will receive from others. Even if someone has not yet given in action but only intends to give, they become worthy of receiving.
