Questioning God..?

I enter the temple premises with a steady gait, walking head upright, nose in the air, like I have a purpose coming here. Like I'll come in with a confectionery bribe worth 21 bucks, and a garland worth I-don't-really-care-how-much, and God will look down at me and go, "That's the spirit sweetheart. Come on! Tell me! Whaddaya want?"

Yeah.

Right.

Reluctantly, I walk ahead, pushed forward by Maa, Naani, Daddy and my exuberant little sister of 11.

It's a temple in Kanpur. Yeah, so it's pretty.. Kanpur-ish.

One real weird looking bull snorts at me. Like I'm a Spanish matador. Why, WHY did I have to wear my red shorts??? Hey dude! Don't do that man! I'm not here for dibs on your milk. I don't even LIKE milk. It stinks. Well.. Unless its chocolate.

Wait. Bulls don't give you milk. Idiot.

VERY carefully, I wade my way away from the brutal creature praying to my host that he'll save me from its horns.

I reach the humongous gates, paving my way through the endless sweet shops and other vendors selling tidbits which usually appeal to my maid's little daughter, and sweets covered with so many flies I can't decide its the flies on the food, or the food on the flies. Naani presses me forward and I bend to touch the entrance.

Seriously. Our god lives in marble floors. "Hey cool dude! Down there?"

There's the priest, behind the counter, because that's where he sells the blessings from. No really! You go upto him, hand over the bribe basket to him, and if he likes your face, he might just return the box with an extra laddoo in it.

He smiles at me, and for some reason, I'm reminded that I have to buy a new tube of toothpaste.

Maa folds her hands and stands there, eyes closed, murmuring something. I can bet its "Please get Aashi into a good college. And please make her get over her addiction to her phone."

Daddy follows suit, and from his demeanor I can only decipher that he begs God "Please make Aashi stop begging me to take her driving. And make her cut down on the phone bill."

There are people lying flat down on the floor. I've seen classier yoga postures. Seriously! Murmuring and chanting the hymns, the temple resonates with their sound. And I don't like it.

"Are we done Daddy?"

"Just a minute. Ring the bells first."

Waking up dear old God, eh?

We go around the building two times. There's this disabled guy who sits in the corridors. He's been there for as long as I've lived. Or perhaps even longer. Earlier when I was just a kid, and so was he, he'd sit in that blue shirt of his and stretch out his hands to beg for alms. Maa would always give him a laddoo out of our prasad. Now, that I'm older, and so is he, he sits in a kurta and a saffron coloured shawl and hands out little books of holy songs in exchange for a little money.

There are monkeys. And there are monkeys. Scattered all over the place, as if no one ever heard of population control. Some of them keep snatching the sweets from the poor devouts, some of the younger lot keep jumping around spreading the waste on the floor. C'est la viés, món ami.

I watch people pouring milk on the deity, literally pushing one another to get to their turn. The milk flows down in front of my eyes into a channel that ends into a drain. Oooh! Faith much?

I DO believe in God. Trust me, I do! Almost every night when I'm sad, or in my darkest of despair, I lie down and stare at the fan and talk to Him.

"Was it my fault? Or maybe I shouldn't have done that! Should I do this or not? Am I doing the right thing? Am I making a mistake?"

But I never understood why He needs to be buttered for answers. Why an idol needs to be bathed in gallons of milk that ends up in the drain, inevitably going waste. Why, if people are so God-fearing and religious, do they need to spend shitloads on prasad and milk and other edibles for a deity instead of giving it to the poor and the needy? Why, if they have so much faith, do they need to visit a commercialised temple to prove it, and not pray within the confines of their own houses?

As we get ready to leave, I say, "I'm never coming back here Maa! There's just no logic!"

She glares at me.

"What? I didn't find no God here!"

"There IS God, in case you were wondering, young lady! You just need to believe in him. He's everywhere."

"Agreed. Then, why do we need to come HERE for it?"

*silence*

"Stop it. Don't question God."

I shut up my trap and walk silently behind them.

Never questioned God, Maa! Just his fanatics.

The Spider In My Bathroom

I'm talking to the spider in my bathroom. Mr. Spider, it turns out, is an avid listener of mine. Has been since I took over the bathroom, his former territory. I just didn't notice his acknowledgment. Now that I have someone to listen me out, it feels relieving to share my pain with someone.

Not something.

Someone.

"It really hurts ya know.."

Silence.

"Why doesn't anybody understand my feelings?"

Silence. Crawls forward. Closer to me.

"I know it was my fault.. But is it ALWAYS my fault?"

Crawls a bit away.

"See! It isn't! Even you agree! Right?"

Crawls in closer. Dangerously close.

"Hey! Hey! Now keep your distance mister! My broken heart doesn't give you the right to come so close."

Stays in place.

I shed a few tears. Curl up and pull my knees closer to my chest, lean my head back against the wall. Let the tears flow.

Then I turn to look at Mr. Spider. He's staring back at me, and I feel a connection. Both sad, forsaken, lonely beings, trying to find their place in the world. The cold, cruel world.

And the moment I put out my hand to stand up and leave, I see him crawl away.

Leaving me behind. Alone. Once again.