Mumbai, Sept 04: We were on a routine flight to Mumbai — my long-time boss and I. As soon as the aircraft began taxiing she pulled out a metal icon of Hanuman and a Chalisa prayer book.
She clutched the deity in her left hand, her white knuckles turning a dark shade of crimson even as the aircraft began to soar, while she fervently recited the prayer and turned the pages of the small book with her right thumb. By the time we are were fully airborne the prayer was done and both the deity and his book were back in their special silk jhola, ready to be pulled out again at the time of landing.
‘‘Don’t you recite the prayer every day?” I asked, all set to get into a provocative discussion — what better way to while away the flight? ‘‘No”, she said.
‘‘Hanuman demands strict discipline and one has to be very careful while saying the Chalisa, you should have had your bath and carefully follow the text, or else you could face repercussions!” Considering I have been chanting the Chalisa for over a decade — not necessarily after a bath and not always with the book in hand (with the result I often race through it and stumble when the mind strays I began to ponder over divine ‘‘repercussions”. Is that how we see God? One who expects such perfection from flawed creatures? Ready to punish, wreak vengeance on all defaulters? Are we not failing to draw a line between ‘‘Godfearing” and ‘‘fear of God”? Are we not better off saying our prayers rather than waiting for the ideal situation?



I have always considered liberalism to be the beauty and strength of Hinduism — it imposes no strictures, no strident discipline. Fasts, feasts, temples, pilgrimages, pujas, rituals — you choose what you wish to adhere to. But the moment you imbue the practice or observance with rigidity you get into the fear or ‘‘veham’’ syndrome. Thus I have known the most devout men and women to be devastated when they inadvertently consume nimbu or imli on a day of Santoshima upvaas or onions on Amavasya.



An elder in the family refuses to hand over a family heirloom of Amman because the Goddess needs an offering of rice each morning, cooked after a proper bath. With a cook of unknown lineage presiding over my kitchen, She may not take kindly to the abode. I have a number of portraits and icons in my puja alcove. Some day I hope my good intentions will prevail over my lack of ‘shudhatta’ and I will have Amman amongst them!