Read Online Brotherhood Dharma, Destiny and the American Dream by Deepak Chopra, Sanjiv Chopra - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deepak Chopra, Sanjiv Chopra
Tags: General, Biography & Autobiography
Ads: Link
had made a pledge and her word was more important to her than jewelry.
A few months later the leader escaped from prison and was killed in a fight with the police.
My mother also tended to our manners, teaching us proper behavior. These lessons I remember very well. She drilled into Deepak and me that when we were offered anything we were never to simply take it; we had to be offered something three times before accepting. Three times—she was very clear about that.
My favorite dessert was a sweet called Rasgulla. When I was five years old, my family was having dinner at my uncle’s house, and my aunt offered me rasgulla. I remembered my lesson.
“No, thank you,” I said. That was one.
“Come on,” she said. “Don’t you like sweets?”
“No, thank you,” I repeated. “I’m okay.” That’s two.
But then, instead of offering it to me for a third time, she moved on to the next person. Wait a second.
“Auntie,” I called out. “Can you please come back and offer it one more time?”
Growing up, Deepak and I had very different interests. Deepak was always more scholarly than I was; I was the better athlete. While he was reading newspapers and books and grappling with philosophical questions, I was playing cricket, soccer, field hockey, or table tennis, or I was running marathons, pole vaulting, and high jumping; if there was a competition I wanted to be part of it, even if it was just throwing darts. In fact, my best friend and I would often race each other—Deepak’s job was to blow the whistle to start the race and to time us.
So while Deepak was winning academic honors, I was filling a trunk with athletic trophies. Deepak worried constantly that I wasn’t studying enough or finishing my work. He would even complain toour mother: “Sanjiv hasn’t done his homework and he won’t come in the house.” Let him play, she would say, let him play.
Like my brother, I have a strong visual memory, and in India we were taught by rote. A lot of schoolwork simply required learning to repeat what was on the page, and that was never difficult for me. I was always able to get my work done and get good grades. I had discipline; I was focused and organized. From a young age, I set goals and worked until I had accomplished them.
That said, my mind occasionally wandered at school. If our teachers caught us doing that, they would rap us on the knuckles with a ruler. They said they were disciplining us for our own good. Admittedly I was more than once the subject of their benevolence.
Of course, without television, computers, or video games we had few distractions. In fact, when I was ten years old I won an award in school, and the prize was a book about American television. I had never seen television but I loved that book. I just stared at the black-and-white photographs of this box with people in it for hours. It was amazing to me. I learned about television stars like Jack Benny and Milton Berle. While Deepak was reading about politics and philosophy, I became fascinated by this amazing device.
Growing up, Deepak did things the way they were supposed to be done. Perhaps this was because he was my older brother and thus felt a greater degree of responsibility. Me? I was always poking at things and breaking the rules. I was certainly more of a free spirit than my brother ever was.
But it was safe for me to be that way—I knew that Deepak was there looking out for me.
5
..............
Miracles in Hiding
Deepak
Deepak self-portrait, 1961. He was fourteen years old when he won an essay competition for “The Nature of Time” at St. Columba’s.
M IRACLES ARE SLIPPERY. We all want them to exist, but if they did, it would turn the ordinary world upside down. Imagine airplanes needing a miracle to stay aloft in the sky. Every passenger would be praying, not just the ones with an extreme fear of flying. A safe landing would display the grace of God; a disastrous crash the wrath of God. It’s much safer to
A few months later the leader escaped from prison and was killed in a fight with the police.
My mother also tended to our manners, teaching us proper behavior. These lessons I remember very well. She drilled into Deepak and me that when we were offered anything we were never to simply take it; we had to be offered something three times before accepting. Three times—she was very clear about that.
My favorite dessert was a sweet called Rasgulla. When I was five years old, my family was having dinner at my uncle’s house, and my aunt offered me rasgulla. I remembered my lesson.
“No, thank you,” I said. That was one.
“Come on,” she said. “Don’t you like sweets?”
“No, thank you,” I repeated. “I’m okay.” That’s two.
But then, instead of offering it to me for a third time, she moved on to the next person. Wait a second.
“Auntie,” I called out. “Can you please come back and offer it one more time?”
Growing up, Deepak and I had very different interests. Deepak was always more scholarly than I was; I was the better athlete. While he was reading newspapers and books and grappling with philosophical questions, I was playing cricket, soccer, field hockey, or table tennis, or I was running marathons, pole vaulting, and high jumping; if there was a competition I wanted to be part of it, even if it was just throwing darts. In fact, my best friend and I would often race each other—Deepak’s job was to blow the whistle to start the race and to time us.
So while Deepak was winning academic honors, I was filling a trunk with athletic trophies. Deepak worried constantly that I wasn’t studying enough or finishing my work. He would even complain toour mother: “Sanjiv hasn’t done his homework and he won’t come in the house.” Let him play, she would say, let him play.
Like my brother, I have a strong visual memory, and in India we were taught by rote. A lot of schoolwork simply required learning to repeat what was on the page, and that was never difficult for me. I was always able to get my work done and get good grades. I had discipline; I was focused and organized. From a young age, I set goals and worked until I had accomplished them.
That said, my mind occasionally wandered at school. If our teachers caught us doing that, they would rap us on the knuckles with a ruler. They said they were disciplining us for our own good. Admittedly I was more than once the subject of their benevolence.
Of course, without television, computers, or video games we had few distractions. In fact, when I was ten years old I won an award in school, and the prize was a book about American television. I had never seen television but I loved that book. I just stared at the black-and-white photographs of this box with people in it for hours. It was amazing to me. I learned about television stars like Jack Benny and Milton Berle. While Deepak was reading about politics and philosophy, I became fascinated by this amazing device.
Growing up, Deepak did things the way they were supposed to be done. Perhaps this was because he was my older brother and thus felt a greater degree of responsibility. Me? I was always poking at things and breaking the rules. I was certainly more of a free spirit than my brother ever was.
But it was safe for me to be that way—I knew that Deepak was there looking out for me.
5
..............
Miracles in Hiding
Deepak
Deepak self-portrait, 1961. He was fourteen years old when he won an essay competition for “The Nature of Time” at St. Columba’s.
M IRACLES ARE SLIPPERY. We all want them to exist, but if they did, it would turn the ordinary world upside down. Imagine airplanes needing a miracle to stay aloft in the sky. Every passenger would be praying, not just the ones with an extreme fear of flying. A safe landing would display the grace of God; a disastrous crash the wrath of God. It’s much safer to
Similar Books
