It was guruwar today. The whole house was up and going even before the first rays of the sun hit the earth. If you are born in a religious Hindu family then you would already be familiar with the phenomenal importance of Thursdays among all other days of the week. It's not like Thursdays have any unique astronomical disposition to them, it's just that it's coveted by a lot of gods. We have a thing of worshiping a certain god on a certain day of the week but as we already have more than 50 known gods, the distribution among just seven days turned out to be a bit biased and Thursday became the favored child.
When I used to be about 5 to 6 years old my dada and dadi used to get up early and the pujas usually started from about 7 am. But as the years progressed the number of gods in our little thakur ghar kept on increasing and thus the no. of pujas also kept increasing. Now it has reached a point that 4 am has become the new Thursday alarm timing. I feel like as the years go by the rituals, hymns and mantras keep on increasing, but the only thing that has decreased is the no of attending members. It's just that dada who used to take the lead on all these bhajans now sleeps quietly on the veranda for most of the time. I usually tell him to sleep inside the bedroom as his frail body wouldn't be able to handle the winds in the open veranda but the stubborn old man insists to sleep outside as it's easier to listen to bhajans from there. What a farce. Are his bhajans going to protect him from the cold? The foolish old man never listens.
I usually ignore their dramatic flares about these special days and rituals but Thursdays are a little too big of an elephant to ignore in the room. So as a victim of familial pressure I also have to wake up early and get attendance in the puja committee. By far I have almost remembered half of these bhajans but let me clarify it was completely involuntary. Today was especially irritating. I slept late finishing up my assignments but still had to get up with the sun. Oh, how my poor soul was tortured. After gathering all of my leftover energy when I finally succeeded to drag my body out of bed, I was faced with the old man's nagging. Really, is it too much to ask for a little bit of peace in this house? All they do is god this and god that but where was their deaf god when he was lying on the hospital bed half dead a year ago?
A sudden hush fell over the entire house. Then I realized that I had said the last line aloud. Papa was looking at me with deadly eyes and I saw a tear slip past dadis's eyes but all I could see in dada's eyes was disappointment. He always tells me to be optimistic, he says his God saved him a year ago, he says his life is a miracle then why does he still suffer every day? I rushed past them to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. I think the water in the shower tasted a little salty today.
Bathed and dressed within 15 I was out in the thakur ghar with mama and dadi with wet hair falling on my shoulders. The house was back to its normal clamor. Dada was humming along with the bhajans and mama was busy preparing the bhogs. In front of me, small and big murtis of all sizes were lined up neatly on the pooja platform. A different flower offering was made for a different god. Each time dad bought a new murti I would tell him to bring one with big ears, at least then it would be easier for our prayers to reach them. But now that I think it didn't change anything over the years. The gods were really deaf.
Yet today I burnt one extra agarbatti than last Thursday. Even if they are deaf, they could still smell no? I felt foolish while doing that though. My brother was laughing behind me. But what else can I do? When all the doctors said nothing could be done, my dadi said her thakur would save him. Maybe he did or maybe all the doctors were quacks. But I still can't deny the truth that the hope in the smell of camphor from this thakur ghar is what fuels this family to move forward every day and among all this hustle-bustle another guruwar went by.
thakur ghar - a room/space typically used for worshipping
aggarbati- incense stick
bhog- food that is given as an offering to gods
dada - paternal grandfather
dadi- paternal grandmother
MURTI- idol
guruwar- thursday
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Cerita PendekA collection of short stories, poems, compositions, letters etc. to give way for your dreams.
