Touched by God on Shivratri

Today being Shivratri, a lot of Hindus visit the temple to offer milk, water, flowers, fruits and Lord Shiva’s favourite Bael leaves, Bhang and Dhatura. Somehow, I do not enjoy visiting temples on special days since it gets too crowded and noisy with devotees rushing to get their share of blessings first. Visiting a temple on festivals is akin to visiting stores offering big discounts. People enter in hordes, offer their prayers in a rush while jostling for space and then leave content with Prasad in their hands.  Some even push and elbow others to make their way first, yes, even the seemingly ‘educated’ and ‘cultured’ ones.

While I also visit the temple, I don’t always feel touched by divinity on these ‘special’ days. I much rather enjoy visiting temples on the “non-offer days” when there are few people in the temple. It has mostly been on those occasions that I experienced much greater peace, energy and joy, when I could pray as much or as little as I wanted to without having to save my toes from being crushed or getting nudged in the ribs.

Sometimes, I also experience divinity outside the temple. Last year, while purchasing flowers, bhang and dhatura from a woman sitting outside the temple, I saw a lady, dressed in a crisp white salwar kameez, probably in her early sixtees get off her Honda City, rush to the makeshift flower shop. There was a sense of urgency about the way she went about selecting what all she wanted.

“Kitne hue?” she demanded.

“Tees Rupaye (Rs.30)”, said the flower lady.

“TEES Rupaye!” The woman complained about the exorbitant price and claimed that what the lady was selling was probably not even worth ten. She dropped her basket of flowers and leaves angrily and got up to leave.

“Kya hua Mataji? Bhagwan ke liye le rahe ho, le jao”, the poor, most likely uneducated woman said politely.

I don’t remember the prayers I said that day, but I shall remember this instance for sure.

Today, I chose to go to a temple slightly towards the village, accompanied by my two little boys, I hoped for less people at the temple. My elder son spotted a balloon vendor outside and demanded one. I promised to buy him a balloon once we came out of the temple.

Although it was crowded with people mostly from the village it was well organized. I managed to get my three minutes with the Lord and came out without getting nudged, poked or stepped upon. Happily, I bought the balloon I had promised. Within a few minutes, even before we got to our car, the balloon burst. The other small children around him laughed. Before my son’s eyes could well up with tears I took him to the balloon vendor again.

“Bhaiya, wo to phoot gaya. Dusra de do” I said. Immediately, he handed me another one with a smile and refused to take money for it. Only after much insistence he took it.

Sometimes we are touched by God inside a temple, but mostly, outside it.

The Best Gift Ever!

With my birthday coming up, I am reminiscent of my previous birthday and the year that has gone by for me. Just a day before my previous birthday, I went to my office to hand over my laptop and bid farewell to my colleagues. It was the first time in my life I was going to be unemployed and unoccupied by a desk job or studies. For the first time in my life, I had nothing planned. I had not thought about what I was going to do or if I would ever join back into the corporate world. To be honest, I welcomed this unusual break. All through my life I had either been studying or working and for the first time I nothing on my hands that would use my intellectual capacity, force me think critically or strategically.

I had continued to work after the birth of my first child four years ago. I was struggling, yet juggling my job and my baby, getting crushed in between. But, now with the birth of my second child, I wanted to give myself a chance to enjoy motherhood, to stop being the superwoman I wasn’t. However, for some strange reason I felt I needed a laptop. My husband suggested an I-pad or tab since that would make it easy for me to browse through and read things online but for some reason I insisted on a laptop, maybe because I had always had one for the past decade of my life.

My parents had been keen to gift me a pair of earrings on the birth of my second child but I asked them not to buy one. I could see no use for another pair of earrings that would sit pretty, locked in the cupboard. Instead, I asked them to gift me a laptop. I just wanted something basic and comfortable, but my father, who loves gadgets choose to buy me one of the best ones in the market and gifted it to me on my birthday and I must say it’s the best gift ever, way better than the best diamonds. After all, it’s not just a laptop, it’s my window to escape into an all new world, whenever I wish to. It is my key to freedom. It allows me to dive into the all new world of writing and I swim through words to explore this new world.

A thought may occur to me, but its only when I sit down in front of the laptop, does the thought leap to take form. It’s only when I type, my thoughts take shape, just like water coming out of a fountain, soaring high and then touching the earth, with droplets scattering all over, like little pearls. It is only through this that I have been able to touch so many lives, bring tears and smiles to people around me, people I may or may not even know. Most importantly, it has allowed me to find a new passion, to learn new things, to play with words, to lose myself and discover a new me.

Thank you Papa and Ma for this beautiful gift! Last year, this was just a laptop, now it is a lot more!

Life is Beautiful!

Writing has been immensely rewarding. It gives me the ability to flex my intellectual muscle and the rewards in the form of compliments I receive feel wonderful. It is pure joy for me when people tell me that they have enjoyed reading it, that it made them feel some emotions. A lot of friends told me that they never knew I could write so well. The honest truth is, that even I did not know that I could and that I would enjoy it so much, even if it is about small incidents from my life which can be easily forgotten with the passage of time. I did think about writing, many a times over the past few years, but actually got down to doing it very recently, only after I fell unconscious after a head injury. I gained consciousness to a new ‘me’.

Only after the incident I felt that I was missing something, that I had to do something other than what I was doing already, that I had to do something selfish, only for myself and if it brings a smile to others, then that is a huge bonus. There is a deep realization within me that there is more to life than the money we earn, the job we hold, the material possessions, the clothes, shoes or mobile phone that we have. Only if we choose to keep ourselves happy, can we make ourselves happy, or our days can be spent looking at life pass us by like we would look at the world from the window of a bus. I notice a lot of people complain and feel angry at a lot of things on a regular basis, life can be easily spent in dissatisfaction too. I am guilt of it too at times, but I try to avoid it as much as possible.

I write my blog to be able to share some thoughts and experiences with all those willing to read, sometimes, I write to my husband, to share some of my innermost thoughts and feelings with him, knowing that I cannot say all that I want to, verbally. I write to my children too, a diary in the form of tiny letters to them, about their growth milestones, about holidays we spent together, about the beautiful moments they have given me, even the things they have broken and how a touch, a kiss, a hug or a few words from them that make my life much richer than it ever could have been. They show me so much every day, that can only be experienced…words and photographs can only capture fragments of it. When I began writing the diary soon after my elder son was born, I could not really pin point as to why I write to him. But, lately, the reasons became clearer to me.

I write to them, so we remember the precious moments we have spent together. They would not remember these beautiful years of their life when they grow up and my memory might get hazy too with time. These letters would act as their external hard drives, so they can enjoy moments from their childhood again, read about themselves and have a good laugh, marvel about their own acts of mischief. Maybe, when they are teenagers or even older, they may disagree/argue with me, question what their mother did for them, they would still know that their mother loves them irrespective of everything else. Lastly, when I am no longer around them, they can still have a little bit of me telling them how much I love them. They will be able to relive the beautiful moments we have spent together as mom and kids.

I feel that we all lead extraordinarily beautiful lives, we just need to believe it and identify that beauty in our lives. Like I said earlier, only if we choose to keep ourselves happy, can we make ourselves happy. Dreams need to be chased, heartfelt desires need to be worked on and feelings need to be communicated.  I also believe that it is essential to celebrate, be it a birthday, an anniversary, all achievements, however small, in whichever way that gives us happiness, be it through a party, or a trip, a private dinner, anything….but it has to be something. Only when we enjoy ourselves can we remember it for long, we would not remember the uneventful, routine days we spent watching life pass us by. It is the special, happy, wonderful moments that make our lives worth living, and these moments need us to make them memorable.

“Memories have to be made in order to remember them. Make some really good ones every day!”

                                                                                                                               -          Doe Zantamata