Our Father who art in heaven

Chapter 1: Early Memories..

My oldest memory of HIM was seeing my Dad walking from one room to another with an incense stick in his hand. He would step out of his bath wrapped in a white cloth and perform puja. After puja he would take a black colored stick and walk across to all the rooms. I used to find this exercise strangely calming. The rhythmic pattern of his hand movement…..the circle of smoke that used to form in the air….the soothing smell that engulfed the surrounding.  It was a part of my regular routine…a kind of a prayer.

As I grew up another distinct memory nested within the deepest crevice of my heart.  After her daily puja my mother would sit with her hands folded, and tears would roll down her cheek. I used to stand at the edge of the door, silently and watch, as a silent hand reached out to her and comfort her.I still wonder if those tears were of gratitude or complaint. But they rolled down every day…relentlessly.

I think it was because of these early memories that I could never grow up and ask for anything from HIM. Every day when I folded my hands and stood in front of him, words fell short for me. But somewhere deep down I knew that HE knew. And that comforted me. And if ever under pressure I had to ask for something, I felt guilty.

Chapter 2: The Meeting..

It was a regular day. I hurried through the morning chores, packed the lunchbox for my husband and myself and rushed to take a shower.  Once I was dressed, I walked into the ‘puja ghar’ and lighted the incense stick. Suddenly the room around me was filled with thick smoke from the incense. Though the smoke engulfed me, I hardly felt claustrophobic; rather the soothing fragrance of sandalwood calmed my senses. Suddenly the room around me melted into thin air…and I found myself standing in a beautiful garden. Though I couldn’t see the ground beneath my feet I could walk around the heavenly garden. There were flowers around me and some of them were so beautiful that I felt that looking at them for too long would stop my breath. I had no clue where I was. Next thing I know I was doing that most of the people of our generation will do when they are in such a situation (no, I was not google-ing). I reached out for my mobile phone, only to realize that I’m no longer at my home. Now the situation slowly started to sink in. I saw a pristine lake in front of me and walked towards it. I sat down on a bench and my mind raced back.

 “How did I reach here?” I was at home, doing my daily prayer…then how did I land up here?

“What is this place? Though I’ve never been here, I have seen this place. More like, I have experienced this place very closely. Just while I was pondering hard about how I reached this place, I felt a presence around me.

I looked up to see an elderly man sitting across the bench and looking at me. It was the most kindest look I have ever seen (the extra stress is intentional). His eyes were like the huge shady tree that comforts you on a scorching day. I looked baffled, as he smiled as if he knew me since ages. I quickly composed myself, and mumbled, “I think I’m kind of lost here. Any idea where this is?”

On hearing this he laughed. His voice was like the soft gurgle of a flowing waterfall. He said, “You mean that you were lost so long, and have finally found your way”. I looked puzzled, and before I could say anything else, he spoke again, “You are in heaven my child, and I’m God”.

I had more than required reasons to laugh him off, but I didn’t. Instead I looked around me, and then looked at the man sitting just inches away from me. It was then I realized why the place looked familiar, this is what I had always imagined heaven would look like.

Then I heard him speak, “How are you doing, my child?” I looked up; tears were swelling in my eyes.  “Is there anything you want to tell me”, he added.

The tears rolled down.

My heart was almost bursting out of its seams. At that point there was so much to ask for, so many requests to make, so many questions to be answered, and I didn’t know where to start from. But when I spoke, all I could say was, “How are you doing? Please take care of yourself.”

He took my hands in his, and smiled. This time I saw tears in HIS eyes.