The Buffer Zone.

I am one of the assholes?

I crossed my legs and sat down with a heavy thud on the maroon rug in the praying area of my house. The song “Rather Be” by Clean Bandit swirled inside my brain as I tried to push all songs, equations and WordPress blogs out of my head and think of some prayer to recite. I ran an uninterested gaze over the innumerable images and idols that lay neatly arranged in the three foot high mini-temple. There is a clay idol of Lord Hanuman – most powerful God in the eternal faithful service of Lord Rama. There are two bronze idols of Lord Krishna – the one who wears a peacock feather, plays a flute, and had roughly 16,000 wives. He used to be my “favorite” god when I was a kid, because he is portrayed as a naughty kid in mythology. There is a huge framed painting of Sai Baba. There are Laxmi and Ganesha – the goddess and god of wealth and good luck. And there are several framed pictures of the almighty Devi, the Goddess who incarnates in nine different forms (avatars) in the Hindu Mythology.

Earlier in the evening my mom had come to my room and had given me a short lecture on how disappointed she was in me. Why? Because it has been 4 days now that one of the major 9-day long Hindu festival called “Navratri” (“Nav” for nine, “Ratri” for night) started and I did not light a single lamp or an incense stick or even bow my head in front of the Goddesses. She asked me why I do not feel the need to follow any religious tradition; why doesn’t it “ever come from within” me; and of course how would I manage this “irreligious and irresponsible” behavior once I get married and have to stay with the in-laws. I hung my head in silence and nodded once or twice and then just in order to make her feel better I said as sweetly as I could, “Alright I’ll go and light a lamp and chant some prayers.” She gave me her sideways look and left the room.

I did light a lamp later, and an incense stick, tried to remember some prayer to “sing” and even tried to “make a wish to God”. But absolutely NO muscle in my heart twitched. I did not feel ANY devotion or reverence towards the beautifully decked up Gods and Goddesses in my temple. And I was not even trying to hate or abhor the entire concept of religion and God. Rather I was trying to steer my mind and heart into “talking” to those doe-eyed goddesses and “asking” them to bless me and my soul. But NONE of that happened. The tiny part of my brain that tried to steer me into making a small talk with God, was overshadowed by the LOUD blaring noise that constantly told me, “There is nothing called God. And you talk to no one. You talk to the air. Because there is no God and no one ‘listens to your prayer’. The only one who listens to your prayers is your own self“.

Every single time I visit a Temple, a Church, a Gurudwara, a Mosque, I battle these thoughts. I don’t want to make a fake conversation with a fake “Person” called “God” and ask him/her to “Listen to my prayers”. Oh heck! I don’t even do a prayer or make a wish. But there are times when I do want to make a desperate wish. And in those times I do want a “Real God” who would register all these wishes and make them come true, but then that same loud blaring noise in my head mocks me and tells me not to be so foolish and weak.

So how does a lesser mortal like me survive the times of utter despair, helplessness and fear? I have created this safe buffer zone, where I am SURE that there is nothing called “God“and “God” will not “Listen” to any butt load of sincere crap, but at the same time I have MADE myself believe that there is an Universal Power. Now, am not even sure if there is an Universal Power that exists in any form. And even if it does exist, is it any use except for me holding on tight to the thought of that Universal Power to “save” me when “an earthquake hits the city” or “there is a blackout inside the Metro” or “please save” my grandfather from dying of a cardiac arrest? I don’t think of that Universal Power when I go out clubbing or get drunk or kiss a guy. I don’t know what is the exact function of the Universal Power, if it exists. But the concept of Universal Power helps the lesser mortal in me to cling on to false hopes.

As I said, I have created a safe buffer zone, wherein my practicality and desperate foolery don’t clash.

P.s. : I feel humiliated when even some of my “cool” friends say they feel peace and calm and connected to “God” when they visit religious places. I have rarely felt so. I admire the architecture, the big gardens in temple arenas, the hustle-bustle of people and the devotion they have, but I don’t feel connected to anything. I could be inside the main lair of a sacred temple, facing the most “divine” God, and still be thinking of Butter Chicken and Soda.

P.p.s: Some other day I might rant on whether heaven and hell exist. Is the theory of Karma for real? What is the definition of Sins? Mysterious shit.

So Mean duh!

I laugh okay. Giggle. Smirk. Loud laugh. Hysterical laugh. I just laugh a lot. I laugh at everything. I laugh at everyone. Even myself.

I laugh when someone dies. I laugh when someone cries. I laugh when someone is in pain. I laugh when he vomits on the roadside due to a sunstroke. I laugh when her grandmother dies. I laugh when my parents are mad at me. I laugh when my best friend calls me a bitch and hates me. I laugh when my sister judges me. I laugh when I am put on an “improvement plan”. I laugh when he has a heavy accent. I laugh when she makes grammatical errors. I laugh when they brag. I laugh when they are meek. I laugh when they are stupid. I laugh when they are smart. I laugh when they act innocent. I laugh when they are too bold.

I laugh when her dress is too tight. I laugh when his tummy tires bulge out from that t-shirt. I laugh when their butt cracks show. I laugh at her ugly boyfriend. I laugh at her handsome boyfriend. I laugh when his wife is taller and manlier than him. I laugh when his wife is too flat and tiny. I laugh when she spills drinks on me in the club. I laugh at gays. I laugh at straight people. I laugh at those shabby beggars. I laugh when someone trips and falls flat. I laugh when they fail. I laugh when they succeed. I laugh at poverty. I laugh at riches. And I laugh at jokes- even the poorest of them.

And only seldom I cry. Seldom I feel the pain. The sorrow. The gravity of the situation. I should’ve helped.

But mostly, I just laugh.

Karma is gonna give it to me so bad. Right?

P.s. : I’m gonna make some salad now. It shall have black olives 😉