I have never been big on religion. Though in the same breath I must admit I have never been NOT big on religion as well. I prefer not to have an opinion on the issue. I don’t think much about it. If rarely I am pushed into a corner, in true D&C tradition, I weasel my way out through a vague and diplomatic answer or one, which would help me to change the subject pretty quickly. Thankfully my parents never made a big deal out of it. They took me to the usual tour of temples when I was a kid, introduced me to Ramayana, Mahabharata and Amar Chitra Kathas and left me to my own devices to figure it out for myself.
I am looking to move into a new rented apartment. Preferably one which is a little bigger than the current one, has an address which doesn’t need further explanation and also which wouldn’t leak through its windows in the rainy season, thank you very much. Went and looked at one in Banjara Hills, loved it but found that it was at least three grand over my budget.
Festivals nowadays come and go and I hardly notice them. If it weren’t for the pandals put up and the heavier than usual traffic snarls on the way back from office I swear I would have had no idea it was Ganesh Chaturthi season. Mum made the traditional sweets a few mornings ago and called me in to the kitchen where she has her own personal little God space where the Ganesha held prime of place that day.
“Pray”, she commanded.
Like I mentioned earlier, in such situations, the practical side of D&C comes to the fore and recognizes that obeisance is the fastest way out.
“Say your Ganesha prayers.”
A few things like the National Anthem, Vande Mataram (flavor of the month, when will they remix it?) and Ganesha prayers, one doesn’t tend to forget when they are drilled into your impressionable little brain. I chanted them quite expertly.
“You should say them more often.”
I mentioned that I say them all the time when no one is listening.
Anyway, time for payback.
“Oh God, give me more money!”, I said aloud as I did my final bow lying flat on the ground, the modular kitchen in that Banjara Hills apartment still fresh in my mind.
Mum clucked disapprovingly. She decided to overrule my wish.
“No God, give him strength of mind.”
“NO, NO, NO!”, I bawled, “I want money! Money, Money, Money!” Fists beating on the floor now. “I don’t want any strength of mind, give me money!”
“Shush! Don’t say such things. It might come true” (she was referring selectively to my not wanting the strength of mind thing).
And you know what, I’ve become really forgetful this week. I forgot my mobile at office, which led to me leaving my company ID card at a PCO booth. Forgot to pay my credit card bills within the due date and today returned home without my gym clothes. All these things normally happen once a year, like those festivals, actually. It’s quite a coincidence then that they all happened in the same week.
Oh Elephant God! Take your curse back!
P.S. And continuing on our guitar education here’s a D&C attempt on a song from the movie, ‘Gangster’. View at your own risk.