With thousands of blue seats around, in the auditorium of the country’s top commerce college, SRCC, the heartthrob of every commerce student, I was standing against the huge glass sliding door. The grand auditorium, the very place, where the PM Modi gave his speech, where political stalwarts like Meenakshi Lekhi and Mani Shankar Aiyyer had debates, I, in the capacity of a girl who lost badly in the sports trial, was standing, standing all alone, with big drops of tears adorning my cheeks.
During that moment, all the struggle of four years came above before my two big eyes. My eyes, though big, were too small in the capacity to hold all the scenes of the past together. I could remember, how on my trip to Karnataka with my family, I was lying lifeless on my berth, with tears escaping the realm inside my eyes to the surface of my wrinkles clothes and finally dropping on the berth, making it wet in no time.
When the entire family was narrating how Tirupti Balaji Temple enjoys a lot of faith around the world, and how the wish of everyone does get heard in the temple, I was scared thinking what if the God residing in that magnificent temple, forget my wish, my prayers, amidst so man prayers flowing to him each day, throughout the year. Moreover, I tried to recall if my donation amount was enough to catch his attention, if not that big that my prayers should be accommodated in the top slots of the priority list prepared by the Almighty, while he goes on with fulfilment of people’s prayers. But, I was doubtful, if the money was enough to get my prayers heard.
With this thought, the flow of the tears became more dangerous, and as more and more salty water was brimming out of my eyeballs, I was feeling light. In those moments, I was making attempts to remind god of my prayers, the prayers which i have been chanting on my lips, and which I often did not mind leaving unchanted. The prayer was “Oh God, Please do not let me die in anonymity.” But, believe me, I was a very caring child right from the beginning, after all i was my father’s child, and thus, with no delay, I became concerned about the trouble that poor Almighty had to go through due to my prayers, and that practical concern was that there have been so many people who wanted fame, and who hated anonymity. Rather every second person wanted that. Thus, with limited number of slots to grant someone with flame and with prayers from all around, the Almighty’s condition would be more pitiable than that of my father, who was left in dilemma to whom to give the last piece of Kutkut to, between me and my brother.
I always loved to see my father happy, and also I was the eldest child in my family and I had to behave like one, so in those moments of my father’s dilemma, I would withdraw my demand for Kutkut, so that my father could easily give away that one Kutkut to my stubborn brother. But, here in the case of God, what I asked for was much more precious and much more important than my piece of Kutkut, and thus, it was impossible for me to give up my demands to ease God’s dilemma. But, I was too kind to make additions to my prayers, and after that the edited version of my prayer was “Oh God, Please do not let me die in anonymity, and if that is not possible, please reward me with death right now or anytime soon, if there are too many people today to be transported to heaven, or for that matter to hell as well.”
With that sweet, simple, unambiguous prayer, I roamed throughout the premises of the temple and left it with that prayer only. A hope was there in my heart that someday, I, as a crazy child turned crazy adult, would visit the temple once again in my life one day, to tell the Almighty that the file of my wish has been cleared by him, and thus I have become the beneficiary of that, in case, he fails to notice in his busy routine of granting prayers, basic manners, you know. As the train was rushing towards north, and as I was going away from the temple, I was wondering if my reminders to God would have enough fuel to stagger to the Holy temple, the divine one, the foolproof one rather!
After returning, I, an obstinately obstinate girl, started chalking out some way so that the great God Tirupti does not forget to take my wish into consideration. For several nights I had the same dream. I could easily handle my same excuses everyday for not taking a bath, I often used to brag myself as an environmentalist, a common man ambassador of Jayanti Nataranjan, who was advocating the message of saving water and thereby saving environment, while she, the poor lady, was busy handling the whims of the Shahzyaada of the world’s largest democratic country, where monarchy, though only virtually, has no place.
Similarly, I could live on the same vegetables that my mom used to cook because they were the cheapest stuff in the vegetable- turned gold-market. After all, it takes time to bring Achchhe din. I had patience, the mango person turned into patient, being inflicted by inflation, had patience. I could also tolerate the same dialogues in mom and dad’s routine fight, as I knew they had no option to get divorced. Divorce was not impossible only because my parents had no plan to make one more family lawyer rich through their case, and because they feared that due to tariq pe tariq, they would get umar pe umar, and one day they would die undivorced only, but also was there something more which was the primary deterrent for my parents to not to take divorce, and that was the deterrence of being parents. After all, my parents wanted a rich-educated-baniya-handsome son in law and a fair-beautiful-young-baniya-unambitious and sanskari daughter in law for themselves.
This becomes possible only when the parents of a child have spent their entire lives without making any public effort to break loose the rope with they were tied to each other. But, there was a limit of my ability to handle monotony in my life, and thus, dreaming the same thing regularly was absolutely and undoubtedly impossible for me. I wondered if that was an evil-omen. In my dream, the omniscient, the omnipresent Almighty of Tirupati temple used to come, and he used to pester me with his riddle, in which I was asked “What does the God really want?” One night, I answered, “Bribe”, my tongue slipped, but I, the born lawyer tried to manipulate, and with no delay, I said “I mean donation for poor and needy people.” Then, I wondered if the pundits and mahants were the poor people which God meant to refer to. But, I controlled my flow of questions. But, the God was discontented with my reply, and he vanished in no moment.
The next night when he came, and I answered with confidence, “Oh! You want that the human beings should give up quest for material things and should live an ascetic life.” This made him even more depressed. I guessed that given the CWG Scams, IPL match fixing, Coal Gate Scam and Fodder Scam etc, the Almighty has realised our potential to be scandalous and he, being the Almighty, wishes us to utilise our incompetent talent to give birth to scams. So, being realistic and economical, he might not have liked my idea. I became desperate, I did not want to upset the Almighty, otherwise, he may not allow my prayers to be granted and then, I had to die in anonymity, and that was the scariest.
Next night, when Almighty came, I could not hide my frustration caused due to my unsuccessful attempts to please God and I ended up asking from him that the reservation system should be introduced in the institution of temple, as I being a North Indian, was at serious disadvantage in pleasing the Almighty as he being a South Indian god, and I being a North Indian girl had less of a mutual understanding. I further added to my suggestion to convince God to approve reservation system. I warned him that if he would not allow me the reservations, I would go to the temple of some North Indian God sometime and so would many North Indian people would do, and thus, he would lose our support. Then, he would have to run coalition with Shirdi ke Sai Baba to achieve the status of the most popular gods in terms of the combined votes. In my blood ran politics, and in God’s blood, if he had any, ran disappointment. Then, night after night, I came up with several replies to please him. I said God wanted:
E-Wish system so that the wishes don’t get rotten in the way, like the food grains are left to be rotten in the grain flooded godowns built in a country of empty stomached people, or he wanted interlinking of wishes system, so that the God whose abode was flooded with wishes could transfer the wises to a little drought prone regions of different Gods, so that that the balance remains, or he wished to have a makeover as he would be bored of wearing the same attire for as long as can be imagined. My last attempt to satisfy him was the most dissatisfactory as I said that “You, the God want ban on the movie P.K.?”
Then, he vanished for never to return.
I, was no big or rich a person to arrange a luxury plane for the God to be called to my place, nor did I have the resources in term of time or money to go to him to South, but I had Blue Wagon R car! The God said that when he has blue colour in his sky, why should he sit in my blue coloured car, he wanted variety and I needed a car loan to buy an SUV which God liked to drive him to my home. But, my EMIs did not allow me that, after all I was an unemployed student of this country.
Finally, I decided to get over my nightmare, as the Archaeological survey authorities are not going to dig under some temple on the basis of my dreams, after all I was not a seer. Besides studying really hard, I decided to do something more, rather much more thing more to leave no stone unturned in getting my dream college. So, I also visited the fortune teller, to whom Smriti Irani went to show her hands. As exam approached nearer, my stress was destroying my free spirits and my actual talents, more vehemently than Sharadha scam shaked he land under Didi’s chappals. I was no one so big, like the Trinamool Congress stalwarts, who could get the false health certificate prepared to escape the VIP jails or the “parrot in the cage cum CBI” enquiry, thus I had no way to avoid board exams, I had to appear for them, despite all the feelings of mine that I was getting nervous breakdown.
Finally the exams got over, and results were to be out, there were 48 hours left for the results to be announced. I wanted to make one last attempt to please God, just on the day, when the results were to be out. I rest my case on the assertion that when BJP can be permitted to advertise itself on the front page of the newspapers in Delhi, on the day of election itself, why could I not violate the ethical code of conduct, after all I, like BJP, gave the exam through print media, and thereby Student Representation Bill should come to my rescue, like, People’s Representation Act had come to the BJP’s rescue lately.
But, then I immediately realiszed that the Student Representation Bill had no legal force, as it was yet to be converted into an Act. But, it could not happen last time, because of the dire necessity to hinder the parliamentary proceedings last session, as it was the only feasible or rather the only popular way to criticise BJP’s caste coloured political remarks. I felt so bad about the status quo of the Student Representation Bill.
But then the result came, and I was robbed of my respect, the very respect which I had to earn for myself for all the years I lived. I felt more humiliated and disgusted than what the women of the country felt when the chief of the political party of the most populated state of the country made “galti ho jaya karti hain remark”, whereby he said “Boys are boys, mistakes do happen, would you really hang them for that.”
I felt suicidal, but I decided not to suicide as it is the prerogative of only the Vidharbha farmers. But, I cried, cried, yes, I cried a lot, I poured all my heart out. I was shattered, I wanted my self respect back, and my torn spirits were looking for the people to stop doubting my abilities due to my bad marks. Then, once again the God of Tirupati temple appeared before me, and this time, without asking anything, he replied, keeping his head down, his eyes shut and in a low voice, with his shoulders drooped and fist closed, and with his long hair falling over his golden cheeks, “I, as a God wanted Gharvapsi.” He continued, this time something wet flowing down his cheeks, “This world has become too cruel for me to handle, please now introduce new god in light of modern circumstances through Make in India initiative and allow me Gharvapsi.” He replied, and then he vanished once again.
Then, I realised that my wish was not granted because I failed to empathise with him, but I guess he was impressed with my sincerity and perseverance and thus he rewarded me with a good CLAT rank. When the CLAT result came out, my mood became optimistic, and with that mood, I felt relieved thinking that I did not guess that God want Ab Ki Baar Kejriwal Sarkar, otherwise the results could have been anarchist!!
By: Priya Garg