Chamatkar: India146;s miracle worker

Seawater turned sweet and idols drank milk last week. India is not just a country of miracles, it8217;s a miraculous country. Think about it, divine delusion helps us cope with harsh ground realities.

Mumbai8217;s Meethi is the most speciously named river in geological history. It8217;s actually a glorified gutter that crawls between banks of compacted garbage, filthy tanneries and slums, before vomiting its squalid contents into the Arabian Sea. Hardly your standard celestial vision of milk and honey.

So last Friday, when a hawker by the name of Sayyed Janni decided to taste the seawater at the mouth of the river for reasons as yet unfathomed, he was shocked to find that it had turned, yes, sweet. Janni knew this was no earthly phenomenon. Friday, after all, is the Muslim Sabbath. And surely it was no coincidence that the Pir Makhtum Ali Dargah stood barely a stone8217;s throw away.

That was all it took. By evening, hysterical crowds had turned up at Mahim Beach to partake of the Sweet Sea, while million others joined them vicariously on national television. Men and women, young and old, Hindu and Muslim, they all glugged down the muddy brown manna. More miraculously none have yet ben admitted to hospital.

Then, barely 48 hours later came other astounding news: deities of Lord Shiva and Goddess Durga had started drinking milk. It8217;s not the first round, mind. As far back as September 1995, Ganeshji had knocked back gallons of the stuff in temples across the world. Only, this time, His Lordship is joined by other, esteemed members of the Hindu Pantheon. Now, fresh reports indicate that perfumed water is dripping from a statue of Mother Mary at Velli, Kerala.

Have we lost it completely?

As I watched the euphoric, desperate, painfully eager crowd at Mahim Beach, somehow, I wasn8217;t so sure. It8217;s easy to sneer at miracles from an Ivory Tower. Try it from a slum with a skinny, sick child in one arm and a bucket of brackish drinking water in another 8211; you might just be singing a different hymn.

The truth is, in a country where 1.2 million kids still starve to death every year, and over 40 million citizens wage a daily battle with poverty and hunger, Faith is India8217;s coping mechanism 8212; our only security blanket against hopelessness and despair. Purer than opium, safer than Valium.

It is also our Great Leveler, binding rich to poor, Hindu to Muslim, and caste to caste. Without Faith to glue us together, and remind us of the larger picture, we would polarise into certain anarchy, or succumb to a bloody socialist revolution. 8220;Allah or Ganesha, God is in this water and we are blessed,8221; says Salma Shaikh from Deonar, a slum that hugs Mumbai8217;s notoriously noxious garbage dump, 8220;Now I know I live in a pure land.8221;

Story continues below this ad

That8217;s why miracles are so important. No wonder the magic has spread to Surat, another city in need of some serious abracadabra. Floods, pestilence, filth, potholes, bombs, callous administrators and crooked politicians 8211; what do all these matter, when the Almighty is by your side? Thank god for God, the last resort of the forsaken.

So when the Mumbai Municipal Corporation begged citizens to refrain from slurping up the polluted sea, there were few takers 8211; especially since the BMC8217;s more sanitary supply killed about fifty people from gastroenteritis last month. And when the National Institute of Oceanography dismissed the entire episode as a 8220;normal monsoon phenomenon8221;, even mayor Datta Dalvi was unimpressed. 8220;Yeh to chamatkar ban gaya, This is a miracle,8221; he confirmed, after swigging a peg of the panacea.

The joke is that India is not just a country of miracles, it8217;s a miraculous country. Think about it. The way we submit to inept leaders, then vote them back to power, is a miracle. The way we accept corruption and deceit is a miracle. The way we put up with the lowest quality of life in the world 8211; in spite of paying our taxes 8211; is a miracle. The way we somehow muddle through the chaos 8212; and make it work 8212; is most definitely a miracle. But these are miracles we don8217;t see, the ones we take for granted.

Meanwhile, the divine delusion helps us cope with ground realities. Like the suicidal patient who attempts death for salvation, India8217;s thirst for miracles is really a cry for help. When will we stop believing? Quite simply, when every Indian can eat, drink, work and live with dignity. When we cease to serve the government we have appointed to serve us. When India, like the Meethi River, can hold her head up high and be proud of her name. But for the moment, these can only be miracles.