Dashain Revisited

"Hindumatrako Mahaan Chaad!"

I think to myself, my head groggy with last night's drinking. My hands are folded in a Namaste, an array of Idols in front of me. I see the empty scotch glass from the corner of my eye, last nights ice-cubes have melted, and mixed with the remnants of the amber liquid that they were washed on, give off a slight stink this morning. Funny, did not seem to stink while I was chugging in down last night. I also see a used condom wrapper, carelessly tossed away in the exitement...... And here I am, a puritan, observing the customs, traditions of my forebearers - that has been followed to the letter by my forefathers for a millenia (and hopyfully by my progeny).

I slowly and cumbersomely read the mantras that I printed off an email that my father sent to me last night. Words that I do not know the meaning of, sentences that I can barely decipher. A rush of memories follow, my grandfather helped me through all this a long time ago. He did explain what all of it meant, and it really was simple to understand at the time. But everything has become hazy now. But still, some of the explanations come back, even after all the upteenth glass of scotch that I have downed.

Does God mind? I mean, I live a life so far away of what the scriptures preach, I should not drink, not eat beef, should say my prayers daily, should have a thread around my body, should perform all the ceremonies in a certain way - or else it becomes impure - like pouring water into sand...... And then, some say that God lives inside of you - if so, by definition, God knows what you think, can differentiate between what you say and what you mean to say and what you feel inside..... Then what is the point of all the rituals? The Idol is not God, by the same amount that a my photograph is not me........

Oh bother, I forgot to light the candle, I mutter silently and light the candle. We could not get barley seeds, so the jamara has to be corn seeds. Orville Redenbacher's instant quality popcors, buttery and light at the same time. I think as I put the seeds on sand from the river outside that my wife brought along last night on the little almunium baking sheet (maybe designed to bake a chicken, another thing that puritans should avoid!). (Over the next few days I would anxiously look every morning to see if the seeds sprouted at all).

The cat slinkers past, lookin g curiosly at me, What does she think, I wonder.... What's wrong with the human servant today - got up early, washed himself and is sitting in front of a litterbox. Oh boy, that would give anyone a heart attack if she thinks my jamara is in a litterbox and if she decides in the morning that it is too cold to get out. "Ho Mirli Meow?" I say. She moves her upturned arrogant little nose and gingerly steps into the warm bed. She has the life, fed when she wants, loved and doted by everyone and can sleep whenever she likes, whenever she likes.

I finish my pooja and get up, late for work. I have to commute for an hour and half to work and a car that's held together with duct tape, literally.

So I pray to the God, for World Peace? No, the World can go to hell for all I care, and it is too if you believe Bill, Glen, Lou and the like. But I did pray for peace for myself, health and happiness of my family and, well If you are reading this, for you too........