Free-for-all in the name of religion
Early morning is a beautiful time to be out. It is still dark, but slowly the nascent rays of the rising sun give way to dawn — a brilliant skyline and the start of a new day.
A walk at such a time is a soothing melody of solitude. The canopy of trees and blossoming flowers keep the path cool for a while and filter the sun’s rays. I am not alone, though. There are plenty who think like me and are up and about — walking, running, jogging or even doing yoga. My city boasts of well-designed parks that have walking paths and exquisitely maintained gardens. Every season, the vibrant colours and pleasant scents of the flowers are a source of joy.
Lately, these mornings have often been marred by the ‘Aunty Brigade’ — the flower thieves. I catch them jumping barbed wire fence and plucking from people’s gardens, stripping the parks of blooming flowers — roses, hibiscus, dahlias, petunias and marigolds are targeted with great gusto. It really gets my goat to see these aunties yanking beautiful buds and flowers without a care. The first time I saw a woman pluck roses in the park and shove them in a plastic bag, I stared at her and then gave her a mouthful. It made no difference to her and she sauntered off like she had done no wrong.
I had a chat with the gardener and his wife who laboriously tend to the park all day. He voiced his frustration over the pilferage. The unpretentious man lamented that the aunties didn’t listen to his pleas and instead answered back rudely. I advised him to inform his superiors, maybe install CCTV cameras at key spots and put up signs about fines for plucking flowers and damaging or dirtying the park.
The fear of fines may work, especially if the offender is caught red-handed. The aunty in question won’t spend a penny on flowers but still wants her God to fulfil her wishes.
The other day, another aunty targeted hibiscus — not one, not two but plucking many frantically. I glared, mumbled, turned around and stared till she showed faint signs of embarrassment to move on, but not before she defiantly shoved the plastic bag in her pocket.
As soon as the first light comes up and the park and walking trails fill up with people, the aunties disappear. They have surreptitiously left to hand over their ‘prized offerings’ in the hope of salvation. Isn’t that baloney? They can swipe in the name of religion and apparently their soul is saved by offering stolen goods!
Isn’t it time we faced the truth? It all amounts to stealing — in the name of religion. Be kind, nice and compassionate — this is enough to appease the gods.
My daughter advised me: “Mom, please arm yourself with pepper spray if you are going to be a vigilante!” That made me laugh heartily. Fortunately, the golden threads of the morning light transform my indignation into an ambient optimism.
Musings