Look Inwards

The Ritual

12th got over, the boy got college admission in a completely new city, away from his watchful parents, but also away from his best of friends. A freedom he could not exploit to the fullest. Every corner of this college is non-exclusive, bustling with countless students of his age.

Eventually routine kicked in, he made new friends, but of late he has been meeting a girl at this seeming unexceptional place, once every week. Yup, she liked him, because she used to sacrifice her beloved sleep hours to spend that hour with him. That was the first time ever that she did it, and never regretted any second spent with him.

Staring at one corner the boy used to see love birds, and questioned was he also in love? How will he know, it's his first time. How will he tell her, it's even her first time. Nonetheless, it almost felt like peer pressure out-weighing his decisions, his feelings.

"Everyone seems to be in love, maybe I am too" the boy thought. "Guys are finding comfort in complete strangers, but she ain't no stranger to me", Such thought ran through his mind for the whole night. That morning, he didn't feel the same. He washed his face, stared at his wide eyes through the mirror, as his mind was finally fixated to a thought. "This is it, today is the day".

It was five in the morning, no birds chirping, no alarms buzzing. The dead of silence brew confidence in him and solidarity sparked an idea.

He goes the same unexceptional place where he meets the girl and... he proposed her, plain and simple. Sweet, maybe not sweet enough for her, he will never know, and he'll never ask. Then out of the blue, he lit a diya, just to mark the place, the day and his life continues, never the same. Next morning the sweeper came, cleaned that "mess", bewildered as how a diya landed there on such a dry month of the year.

Only two people in the whole universe knew about this small "ritual". The boy promised the girl to light one every year, amongst the many more promises he made that day.

As life went on, the bubble burst and the story of their proposal spread like a fire. A fire he never intended and soon one he never wanted. A secret once known to only two people in the universe was out, everyone was delighted but wanted to do more, add more, show how much more they loved the other. Someone added flowers, someone added beer, someone added hand made cards, someone added firecracker. It didn't take time for the "ritual" to become a culture of the college. But today his diya never stands out in the clutter.

That place was now permanently marked. Marked with dirt and not love. The colors on wall was saturated with antagonism, blending into blackness, and soot.

Every festival we perform at least one ritual, from reading stories, reading verses, a puja and so on. It does bring the community together. Rituals are one of the most beautiful ways to express sincerity, and to come together. But we are live at a time where the motive behind the ritual is all but lost. We do ten rituals but know the significance of none. We read hundreds of verses but don't know even a word we utter. Has the pompousness of rituals made rituals a lost cause? Is the soot on the wall so thick that it needs to be demolished?