Getting Wiser

Eknath Easwaran points out that the only thing you are permitted to take on your final journey is who you are.

The Nilgiris or Blue Mountain in South India is home to several famous hill stations, picturesque towns far above sea level where in colonial days the British could retreat from India’s dry, dusty plains during the oppressive heat of the summer.

In those days it was a rather exclusive enclave,but after independence, I moved with my mother and sister to a town with beautiful vistas and meticulously kept gardens that well deserved to be called a ‘little England’.

Many dauntless British and Europeans still lived there, but despite coming from the plains, my mother soon earned a reputation as one of the best walkers around. In the next village from us was a lively bazaar where we used to do our shopping. The bus passed right in front of our cottage, but my mother always preferred to walk. And although there was a beautiful roundabout road with a very gradual gradient, that route would have taken a couple of hours round trip. My family has always been walkers, so she would say, ‘Let’s go straight down the hill.’ And she would walk downhill, do her shopping, and walk back uphill again, two and a half miles each way.

Going down was not too bad, but when time came to return, I used to suggest we take the roundabout road. ‘Why?’ she would ask. ‘Let’s goup the same way we came down.’ Halfway I would begin to pant, and to conceal from my mother that I was falling behind, I would say, ‘Let’s admire the scenery.’ We would stop until I had recovered my breath enough to go on. My mother was a very sagacious person, and after a while, when she saw that I was lagging a little behind, she would say, ‘Son, shall we admire the scenery now?’ It became quite a joke between us.