PRAYERS

“Prayer has a strength, unbelievable indeed, until we start praying”. These are Swami Chinmayananda’s words etched in my mind from the time I was a teenager.At that time, I took the liberty of praying, no, asking God for even small things like, my dad’s permission for an outing with my friends, a smile or even a glance from the boy on whom I had a massive crush, good marks after “not so good” exams etc. I prayed so fervently that God had no choice but to give in. My belief in prayers multiplied by leaps and bounds.

After my marriage, the prayers were for my husband and my kids. I couldn’t bear to see them sick even for a day; I would run to God and plead to make them alright. Poor God! He always obliged me! Even if they were late by half an hour, my mind would assume the worst possible things and start my prayers to God. Thus for more than half of my life, prayer was a convenient conversation with God, with me almost always demanding things.

My mindset underwent a major shift after some chance meetings with some underprivileged people. I wondered at their resilience when faced with adversities. For them nothing could be taken for granted, not even the roof over their heads and for some not even the next meal. One such incident which changed my entire outlook was when our maid servant, pregnant for the fifth time (first four were girls), and her husband just out of his sales man’s job, decided to celebrate “Ganesh Chaturthi” as she always did. When I asked her how she would manage to buy an idol, make Prasad, with her being pregnant and the husband without a job, she smiled and said”I am not going to worry about that, How I can not bring Ganpati to my home? He comes just once in a year, We all will miss him”. She was more worried about how Ganpati would feel if she did not bring him home, rather than the other way around. I was speechless listening to such simple , yet profound thought from a semi literate lady. I loaned her the money she asked for.

Meanwhile , we shifted to our own flat, a nice spacious flat, but with one of the balconies overlooking a slum. These were not shanties, but semi pucca houses of barely 200 sqft each, with three to four people in each house. From our 3rd floor flat, I could see the ladies cooking, bathing their children, children sitting and doing their homework sitting out, in the narrow gully with the open gutter on one side. I cribbed to my husband about the dreary view, but he being the typical mumbaikar, brushed it aside, saying, for the rate we have purchased, we would only get a matchbox in Bandra or Andheri (supposed to be prime locations) .

Observing them at such close quarters, my mindset under went a slow but steady change. For them Birthday parties meant having a loud speaker on till 10 in the night and a free for all dancing. Any festival from Sankranti to Diwali would be celebrated. One should hear the AARTIS being sung during Ganesh Chaturthi . A small group would go aroung singing aartis in all the tiny houses where Ganeshji is kept and only after all the AARTIS, they would have their dinner, sometimes as late as 11.30 or 12 at night. I would watch their enthusiasm with unmasked surprise!

My prayers are no longer applications. They are filled with gratitude for the things I am blessed with! The very things that I have always taken for granted. Each time I stand in front of Krishna these days, I see a naughty smile hovering in his lips. I whisper” Kalla Krishna” and wink at him, saying a big “THANKYOU”!

Sujatha