Reading the signs

A recent adventure added weight to the argument that confidence comes not from having all the answers but from being open to all the questio...

A recent adventure added weight to the argument that confidence comes not from having all the answers but from being open to all the questions. A friend is convinced that there is nobody looking after us from 8216;Above8217;, whereas scripture upholds the view that we are linked to each other through the God-in-us jivatma, who is God-on-High Paramatma. This question just came up in the billion-dollar format of the movie Signs, starring Mel Gibson, directed by Manoj Night Shyamalan. Gibson, a pastor, has left the church and stopped praying after his wife dies in a freak accident. But when he has to defend his family from hostile aliens, he rediscovers his faith. Despite this sensational theme, the movie dragged quite a bit.

But the day I saw it was itself curiously full of signs. Some impulse had made me want to offer a traditional South Indian 8216;vada mala8217; to Hanuman for a friend8217;s well being. Never having done this, I was clueless but for the certainty that only a South Indian Ram Mandir could organise it. Such places are not exactly plentiful in south and central Delhi, but I knew there was a famous one on Lodhi Road. Alas, a schlep there last Monday revealed that they8217;d discontinued this offering since two years. Disappointed, I inspected the 8216;Madrasi8217; shop outside and achieved a small consolation prize: blocks of pure camphor for the old Burmese teak chest that my quilts live in. Wondering what to do about Hanumanji, I suddenly saw a 8216;sign8217; on the way back to work. An autorickshaw ahead had Tamil slogans painted on its back, the biggest being Shri Nageshwari Thunai, which could translate as 8216;Devi protects me8217;. Instantly, I remembered the tiny Balaji temple near our office, which I8217;d never visited, downroad from the grand one to Kamakshi Amman.

Sure enough, my vada mala was made and offered to Hanuman on his holy Tuesday by friendly servants of the Lord from Kumbakonam and Kanchipuram. The atmosphere in Vaishnava temples is usually so festive with flowers, lamps and sweet smells, that it8217;s hard work staying miserable in one. After the evening arati, the most delicious prasad was handed out to the north-south gathering in leaf cups, the hygiene and dispatch worthy of a gurdwara. Plus, a long-standing wish was taken nearer fulfillment. A devotee told me about an acharya who could guide me through the 4,000 verses of the Divyaprabandham, hymns of the Aalwaar Tamil Vaishnava mystics, which I know only in scraps. Such richness, all from chasing an impulse!

Such events put so much joy into life that one can live off them for weeks. They re-illumine that lovely line in the Bible: 8216;8216;Sufficient unto the day is the yield thereof8217;8217;. Surely there is Someone!