
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.
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!