By Sunaya Pal
Routines and rituals are a part of our lives. Sometimes we follow them without any questions. Questioning them may lead to a reply one may not be ready for, or give a lesson for life?
I brushed my teeth vigorously with one hand and pulled on my jeans with the other. One could say I was getting more out of life by multi-tasking, but I was just late. Like every other day of teenage life, I was trying to get to college on time. I looked at the small round plastic clock; I should have left five minutes ago to catch the bus, but I still had to perform my ritual – something I had followed since the first day of school.
Every morning, after getting dressed, but before going to the living room to put on my shoes, I’d stop in the kitchen. Like most Indian middle-class homes it had our shrine. I’d light an earthen lamp in front of our deity, Lord Krishna who resided there. Following this, I would offer a small prayer and request His blessings for the day to protect me from evil and remove the obstacles from my way. I did this dutifully and doubled my prayers during exams or other important events in my life.
As per the ritual, I’d take the lamp in the palm of my hand, pick the pre-made cotton ball with my other hand, and place it on the lamp. Carefully lift the bottle of oil and fill three-fourths its cavity. Then, place this offering in front of Krishna and light a matchstick to the tip of the cotton ball, which was now soaking in oil. I’d close my eyes, fold my hands, and bow my head to receive his blessings.
This particular day, as I hurriedly tied my hair, my thoughts rambled. I’ve had regular difficulties in life, so does praying really help? I stopped in the kitchen and glanced at the shrine – A wooden structure with articulate filigree on the corners. Krishna stood there with a flute in his hand. I looked at him and questioned my ritual. Was He actually there and was He listening? Was He even aware of me? Would skipping this thirty-second prayer matter? I decided to skip a day and see what would happen.
“Your lunch is next to the shrine as usual.” My mom broke my thoughts and the little courage that I had gathered. She was cooking in the kitchen and looked up from the pressure cooker to me. She had a pleasant demeanor, almost as if she was smiling. This could all change if she would become aware of what was cooking in my mind.
“Quickly do your prayers. Are you not late today?” Saying this, she focused on the curry. Prayers were so meaningful to her. She prayed for everybody. She was so elated when I told her I wanted to pray too. I was four years old. She had finished her prayers and was about to go out of the house. I stood behind her, with folded hands.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m also praying, like you”
It delighted her. “Wow! I am so proud of you.”
After that day, when she finished praying, she called for me and told me to pray with her.
“When will you teach me to light the lamp?” I asked her one day.
“On the first day of your school”
True to her words, she instructed, and I followed. After my prayers, she recalled, “My mom taught me this when I had started school. Just like you.” With a sigh, she added, “I’ve been doing this every day. Hope you do so too.”
I sighed at those thoughts. She would probably notice me not lighting the lamp and I would end up spending more time answering her questions. After all the discussions, I would have to light the lamp, anyway. I decided to quietly observe the practice. I walked to the holy place. As I bowed, I asked Him, “Lord, I hope my praying is effective, and not in vain. If it isn’t too much trouble, please give me some proof.” I added, “Please make the bus a little late today, like me.” The wisp of Sulfur from the burning matchstick hadn’t even touched the ceiling that I rushed from my house.
Thoughts and questions about praying ran on my mind at the same speed I jogged towards the bus stop. Would I really get a reply from Him? Maybe I should have stayed back and discussed with Mom. Better be late one day than do something I … am not sure about — every day. I decided to speak to my mom in the evening and request her to let me skip this ritual for a few days as an experiment.
Just then, I heard a loud crack. It wasn’t a sound I had heard before or can explain till date. A snap of a twig is much different, and this was louder. Then I saw a big branch break and fall from a tree about twenty-five steps ahead of me.
I stopped.
Everything in my mind stopped.
A chill ran down my spine. What if I had not taken the thirty seconds to pray?
I still had to catch the bus. I started walking. I looked at this normal-looking tree closely as I passed it and carefully walked around the fallen branch. There was no sign of any animal on the branch. The tree wasn’t overgrown. There was no breeze let alone a wind on this sunny morning. The branch broke and fell out of nowhere and for no reason (except one) that I could think of.
I reached the bus stop and my mind rationalized that it could be a coincidence. The effect of this reply hadn’t subsided that I got my second answer — The bus pulled in. Perfect timing!
Born and raised in Mumbai, India, Sunayna Pal moved to the US after her marriage. She devotes her free time to writing and Heartfulness meditation. She is part of an anthology that is about to break the Guinness world records. Know more at sunaynapal.com—