Today unlike other days, I sat down cross legged in front of all the deities lined up against the wall in the puja corner of our house. The little lamp tumbler was lit, a small thimble of a cotton 'thiri' twirled in through the lamp nozzle, dipped in sweet sesame oil. Cheriamma is a big advocate of sesame oil. It's good for the nerves she often chimes when I question her if I should keep the small bottle of sesame oil back in the puja corner as against the kitchen counter top where beef and fish and chicken are cooked in equal measure, and somehow the close proximity of the holy oil to our Kerala style beef roast cooking didn't seem too appropriate to me. As you wish,she'd say, continuing with the more prevalent benefits of the oil and why it should be advertised by word of mouth to everyone so that we all benefit from its benefits.
Seated in front of the deities, I think of the days when I lived in my college hostel, in Bangalore. One summer morning, I took an auto to Gangarams and bought myself a wooden deep reddish brown Ganesha, and adorned him with saffron- yellow mallipoos and lit a lamp. Every morning and during 'sandhya' I would pray copiously to Ganesha to remove all obstacles and hand me my boy crush, as well as to inform him somehow to adore me the same way I did him. Maybe it was a post teen fancy that caught me, and I must confess, it worked like a charm. But what I do take away from those days on the mosaic tiled floor of my hostel days praying incessantly to the Lord, was not that finally I was presented with my boy love himself, but the fact that, during those days sitting on the floor, cross legged, hands folded and chanting "Om Ganapathaye Namah" I was connected to Ganapathy, in a way I couldn't fathom then. It was a beautiful tie, to just sit there and watch this deity come to life. The mallipoos in their yellow hues adding a golden richness to the wooden body, the sandalwood incense floating about, the small coconut I would keep in front of him and the little lamp lit would simply raise my feeling of closeness to the Gods, especially Ganapathy.
After a two month foray into the world of lit lamps, soft mantras, incense and a deep adulation for the God, I was blessed with my first real boyfriend. Soon after, I forgot all about the Gods, and prepared myself to be the best girlfriend in my 20 years of life. And just as things moved from an easy crush, to dating, to a serious relationship, after almost 2 years, I broke up with him. By then I realised that marriage wasn't what I wanted and instead took up my new found passion for travelling fantasies. I want to see the world first, I proclaimed. Clearly the relationship bored me.
Today, after 18 years, I sit yet again cross legged in front of those very same deities, and Ganesha in particular. The lamp this time is already lit by my father. I try to evoke the feeling that brought me so close to him then, But I fail to reach the same ecstasy as before. I try again. I don't feel anything. I continue, chanting soft mantras, my eyes shut. "Om Ganapathaye Namah". Nothing. Then suddenly, I hold my hands together, joining my palms, softly toughing each other, bringing them close to my heart with a deep breath. The ecstasy, the elation, the very mallipoo adorned brown hued Ganapathy appears before me. I can smell the incense, the sandalwood fumes, the light in my heart and after a long time, I pray again, deeply, with meaning: "Om Ganapathaye Namah".
Seated in front of the deities, I think of the days when I lived in my college hostel, in Bangalore. One summer morning, I took an auto to Gangarams and bought myself a wooden deep reddish brown Ganesha, and adorned him with saffron- yellow mallipoos and lit a lamp. Every morning and during 'sandhya' I would pray copiously to Ganesha to remove all obstacles and hand me my boy crush, as well as to inform him somehow to adore me the same way I did him. Maybe it was a post teen fancy that caught me, and I must confess, it worked like a charm. But what I do take away from those days on the mosaic tiled floor of my hostel days praying incessantly to the Lord, was not that finally I was presented with my boy love himself, but the fact that, during those days sitting on the floor, cross legged, hands folded and chanting "Om Ganapathaye Namah" I was connected to Ganapathy, in a way I couldn't fathom then. It was a beautiful tie, to just sit there and watch this deity come to life. The mallipoos in their yellow hues adding a golden richness to the wooden body, the sandalwood incense floating about, the small coconut I would keep in front of him and the little lamp lit would simply raise my feeling of closeness to the Gods, especially Ganapathy.
After a two month foray into the world of lit lamps, soft mantras, incense and a deep adulation for the God, I was blessed with my first real boyfriend. Soon after, I forgot all about the Gods, and prepared myself to be the best girlfriend in my 20 years of life. And just as things moved from an easy crush, to dating, to a serious relationship, after almost 2 years, I broke up with him. By then I realised that marriage wasn't what I wanted and instead took up my new found passion for travelling fantasies. I want to see the world first, I proclaimed. Clearly the relationship bored me.
Today, after 18 years, I sit yet again cross legged in front of those very same deities, and Ganesha in particular. The lamp this time is already lit by my father. I try to evoke the feeling that brought me so close to him then, But I fail to reach the same ecstasy as before. I try again. I don't feel anything. I continue, chanting soft mantras, my eyes shut. "Om Ganapathaye Namah". Nothing. Then suddenly, I hold my hands together, joining my palms, softly toughing each other, bringing them close to my heart with a deep breath. The ecstasy, the elation, the very mallipoo adorned brown hued Ganapathy appears before me. I can smell the incense, the sandalwood fumes, the light in my heart and after a long time, I pray again, deeply, with meaning: "Om Ganapathaye Namah".
