Kedo Peseyie
The sun was scorching above the Kohima Local ground. One particular denomination was organising another big religious festival in the Local Ground. As I am part of that denomination, I was busy running around trying to get things going smoothly when I got tripped by a stone and fell belly against the ground.
“Can I help you?” a tiny voice said.
I looked around but saw no one. But it came again.
“You have eyes only for big people. Another one of those snobbish Homo sapiens. A small person like me does not matter to you. Anyway, you look beat-up, how can I help you?”
The voice was sharp and confident with a tone of protest and sarcasm as if my misfortune was his opportunity to speak out.
“How come I have never heard you speaking before? I never knew you could talk,” I said.
“It’s because you never care to listen,” he said, “and that’s part of our tragedy, but we are learning to live with it.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Jumbowallah.”
He was an ant neatly dressed in black. Fighting for survival was a fulltime and strenuous job in the streets of Kohima: dodging red spittle, eluding sweet wrappers that seem to come from nowhere and saving himself from gigantic shoes marching across the busy streets of Kohima. But he had learned to travel by clinging on to the shoes visiting homes and classrooms, parties and meeting, assembly seating among politicians and sometimes even churches. He found this to be a great source of amusement.
Jumbowallah was not just an ordinary ant. He was a scholar ant. He was known among his peers for his erudition in works of philosophy, work-culture, religion, ancient and modern civilisations, ant-thropology, theology and science. But he was also a typical ant - well built, alert and very inquisitive. He wore no spectacle.
His sharp, shrill voice was so penetrating and impeccably focused that it was almost impossible to digress from the topic he raised for discussion. Though he had gained all the knowledge that any ant could aspire to know about the intricacies of ant-nature, he admitted that for a long time he had been baffled with human nature, the contradictions, the self-destructions, the self-preservation, and this putting of the “self” above all else.
“I have recently come up with a hypothesis which I have never had time to prove,” Jumbowallah said. “I want to propose that human nature, —or should I be more narrow and say ‘Naga-nature’, — can be best understood by believing in the opposite of everything that is written in the book about ant nature. I propose this because our nature seems totally opposite.”
“I strongly object,” I said, “to being studied by comparing and contrasting with an insignificant insect!”
“Why then are humans never satisfied? Why is there so much inequality? Why can’t you live together and work hard for your survival like we ants do? Humans are foolish!”
I tried explaining, “luxury is what everybody works for and…”
“Greeks and Romans were not defeated by their enemies but by luxury” he added sharply. “One purpose of life on earth is to work hard and prove to God that you are able to receive and use his gift of life and not to gain luxury and fame. God tells us that we ought to be able to manage our life by ourselves instead of an unhealthy dependence upon him. Your life is your responsibility”
“That’s typical Ant-theology and philosophy,” I said, “doesn’t apply to us.”
“And what’s that?” he asked, pointing to my church just next to the Local Ground.
“Oh that’s where we keep our God. You should come and visit him sometime. He loves good songs and good sermons. He loves our money too. And we don’t have to worry about sinning, he always forgives. Wonderful grace and mercy.”
“Your God seems very understanding and obedient. No wonder majority of you are Christians and you love the church. But we ants are different. We believe life is a gift from God but living is our responsibility. That’s why we work very hard. We make our students study five hours a day and two hours of prayer and meditation are compulsory for all ants. We live our lives to the full. You humans have a detestable habit of misusing and wasting God’s gifts.”
“But that’s legalistic and like military rule” I replied.
“Tell me what’s legalistic about learning living skills. Tell me what’s legalistic about learning to pray and meditate. After seeing the results of our hard work, nobody dares complain. You preach grace and mercy, but we back it up with discipline and self-control. You preach love and unity, but we ants live in harmony. You preach about giving and sharing, but no ant ever goes hungry. There is a world of difference, my dear. When will humans ever learn!”
In a moment, Jumbowallah disappeared into the long line of ants marching toward the NSF Office to tackle a dead leech. As I was still a little dizzy from the fall, I cannot clearly recall whether the dead leech was the NSF or vice versa. I was still recovering from my fall. My heavy lunch had made it even more difficult for me to get up.
As I stood up, proverbs 6:6 flashed to my mind. “Go to the ant, you lazybones; consider its ways and be wise.”
Hey, maybe there is a lot of truth in what Jumbowallah said.
