The monks I saw

Young monks

The clothes were neatly folded in a stack and placed on a traditional den (which served a double purpose of being a sort of sitting cushion as well as a mattress to sleep at night). In front of it was a wooden carved table. It had some religious items on it, decorated and placed in a bowl. Today's prayer ceremony was the first of the seven pujas, in accordance with Buddhist rituals, that needs to be done when a person dies. One each week makes it forty nine days complete. If you read my previous entry then you will know that a grandmother passed away this month.

In front of me were around a hundred monks, all of them engrossed in their recitations while following the lead of their seniors who were seated in a higher throne. To my left were two naughty youngsters. Apparently they had been up to some mischief therefore the punishment entailed standing in the corner until the prayers were over. To my right sat an army of ants in a straight line, only this time the ants had been replaced by seven-year olds. Two of them particularly caught my eye. One was cursed with bad eye-sight, the magnified reading glasses he wore bore witness to that. The other was an old man in the guise of a tiny fellow. You see while the others kept getting distracted every now and then, this particular boy had his prayer beads in his left hand and I could see his lips move as he chanted something. He had a look beyond belief, a sense of maturity and deep thinking that was at par with his elders on the throne. 

And then my thoughts drifted to something related. I had a chance to decide who I wanted to be in this lifetime. These kids did not have an opportunity to express themselves. When one is sent to be trained as a monk at such a young age, you don't really have much clue about the future that has just been decided upon. They failed to realize that just as easily as hair was shaved from their heads, with it was lost a life that could have been. Those three meters of maroon and yellow is all that would remain in a wardrobe in some monastery somewhere. 

When Buddha preached his noble truths and the eight fold path, I don't think he had such a concept in mind. He had a royal childhood and became aware of the sufferings of the world, and his own emotions, at a much later date. From what I understand, he would have wanted people to follow his teachings out of their own will, their own interest and for their own benefit. Over here it is natural to send at least one son on a journey to monkhood if the family is lucky enough to have two or more male heirs. Among my family members, I have quite a few who are in monasteries spread all over the country. The parents feel proud to have dedicated one of their offsprings for a religious purpose. But a closer look will reveal that sometimes the purpose may have been defeated. 

I always look at these young monks and question how life may have been for them otherwise. Would they choose out? Or would they stay put?