Strength of Prayer, of wanting nothing

When I was sixteen years old, I traveled on my own on a train for 2 days to see my relatives in another city. Even though I grew up in a very protective environment, my parents did give me the independence to discover myself from time to time. And although my parents called every day during that particular trip and came to take me home after two weeks of what was originally planned to be a full month of ‘independent’ vacation; at the end, I did get to stay with all my cousins for a good enough time and had a great summer that year.

On that train journey when I was greatly enjoying being on my own, I chatted up with some of my co passengers. It was the age of bewilderment and innocence. Not even for a moment did I feel nervous about talking with total strangers. I remember some of them bought me snacks and tea and I accepted gratefully. If it was today, I would have thought multiple times about accepting things from strangers. I have also killed the innocent urge to strike up conversations with people I don’t know.

On this trip for at least a part of the journey; one of my co passenger was a young yogi who would probably be in his early twenties. He had a pointed beard and knotted his hair on top of his head in a bun. He wore orange garments, sat straight and had ear phones in both ears. He would open his eyes from time to time and look outside the window, not to gaze at anything particularly but probably to add meaning to whatever he was listening. At some point, we had started talking. He was on his way to North India to help people devastated by a recent flood. He worked with Bharat Sevashram and seemed very happy with his life.

We were talking about God and divine presence and he had asked me if I prayed. I have never been overtly religious. My parents are practicing Hindus, actually quite orthodox, but have never forced me to abide by or follow any practice. As a result, my faith has been an evolution, metamorphosing over the years with my own life’s experiences, changing with my perceptions of the divine. At sixteen, I had laughed and told the Yogi that I prayed before exam results came out. He had asked me not to request for anything the next time I prayed.

I had been amused, how could one not ask for anything while praying. Wasn’t this the sole purpose of believing in a greater presence, of having an assurance that the most powerful can fulfill every need?

I did not understand him then, but now, over time, I have realized how powerful it is to pray and not ask, but thank. I find a deep peace in my daily prayers and praying for others. It has allowed me to overcome the biggest obstacle in my own life; my own self. One does not have to follow any religion to pray. You could think of the universe, the strength of the cosmos as being the most powerful and pray keeping that strength in mind. It is wonderfully satisfying to think of oneself as the tiniest dot amongst the vastness and that one doesn’t have control over everything.

Like many conundrums in my life, I am a partial atheist. An unusual believer. I did study science, but have never felt a need to give up my faith in both the divine and in science. Cant they co exist? I understand how Darwin would have felt, while learning to be a clergyman and discovering that evolution was the key to life forms. However, he may have been an unusual believer himself.

Like my parents, I do not expect my daughter to practice any particular faith, however, I do not think I could bear the thought of her traveling on her own, away from home, not at sixteen and perhaps not even at twenty!

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Its Autumn!

Autumn is my favorite season. Not only does the temperature get to an optimum level, but people are more outdoorsy, enjoying the cooler evenings and breathing a crisp air and there is still time, till things get cold and grey and the air is heavy with particulates.

Nature goes through a transformation, more evident if you live in the hills in the tropics or in the Northern hemisphere. I read somewhere that fall shows us letting go is a part of life and nature makes it a colorful farewell while making space to usher in new happiness of the spring. I think winter is a period of contemplation, between the old and the new, necessary to absorb your learnings from the past while planning the next course of action. maple-leaf

Autumn is also the time for Durga Puja, when once a year, the Goddess Durga arrives at the mortal world, to be pampered by her worldly children. Bengalis all over the world celebrate this festival with great joy and fervor.

I have very fond memories of the Puja from childhood. Growing up in the southern part of India and studying in a school for children of predominantly defense personnel, I had a mix of friends from all across the country, from Jammu and Kashmir in the North, to Assam in the East, to children belonging to Rajasthan in the West and everyone from the South. Although my school was a mini India, my home was in a locality mainly inhabited by the Bengali community. This enabled me to absorb a little of my Bengali heritage, although, I can never compete with brethrens raised in Bengal, on any topic relating to Bengali culture, nor on Tagore and certainly never on politics and its repercussions on postcolonial Bengal.

durga-puja-photo-gallery-at-belur-math-on-saptami-2012-108During my school days, for the five main days of Puja, children performed cultural programmes every evening. SB, our community mentor would recruit us early, during the school summer vacation itself and start coaching us for these programmes in October. I am yet to come across someone as versatile as SB, having a day job as a Statistician in a National Research Center, SB was immensely talented in playing the flute and equally gifted in writing scripts for plays and musicals. After coming home from school, we used to rush to SBs house for the rehearsals. He helped us build camaraderie and made my childhood so much fun. For one hour of practice, SB gave us each a lemon candy, entirely from his own funds.

One year, when I was not serious about the practice and was constantly giggling over a particularly funny script, SB not only gave me an earful, but also told one of my friends to start laughing every time I had to speak my lines, so that I ‘get a feel of the real audience’. I was so annoyed after that, not only at SB, but more at my friend for taking it all so seriously and laughing like a hyena, every time I began my lines!

In later years, SB was upset with me for not choosing performing arts as a professional career and giving in to societal pressure or the ‘fad’ prevalent those days to choose subjects that promised a more secure future. Even though I may not have lived upto SBs hopes for me, I am truly grateful for him being a part of my childhood. He had not only opened his heart to all of us, but his home as well, with a wonderfully well stocked library and his own children too, who are good friends even today.

Pujas always bring back happy memories for me, and the realization that community mentors are so important for children. I wish every child has a SB in their life, to cheer them up and help them enjoy their childhood…..serious things can wait….for now, just live and laugh.

Acknowledgements:

Pic 1: Fallfoliagerentals

Pic 2: Ramakrishna Mission Belur Math Durga Puja