Prayer changes things

 

Nargis Natarajan

 

 

            Prayer changes things. I know because I have prayed when it mattered most and things have changed. But sometimes things can also change a prayer. All along the pathway of my life, my prayers have varied. It started with a parroted utterance of verses in a language, which was totally alien to me. As time advanced it began to challenge my rational mind if it was decent to just quote by rote. But stern reprimanding by elders in the household to do the right thing had my lips sealed. To be on the safer side however, all my prayers had an intelligible postscript attached to them- just in case. This was said in my mother tongue or in English. At first, these included mere requirements for chocolates and toys. During my school and college days, it graduated to fervent whispers, either prior to examinations or just before the announcement of results. From then onwards, it took on a peculiar angle, the gist of which was for Him to help me unearth my soul mate. Once that challenging appeal was attended to, it included other ordinary requests that cropped up time and again every time misfortune decided to pay a visit to my ‘happy home’. After those mundane wrinkles were ironed out from my small little world, it was diverted towards the well being of my parents- the two people who had brought me into this world and who were slowly beginning to fade away before my eyes. A few years later, my attention was shifted to a much broader spectrum. There were so many slants to the humane perspective of existence and there was no dearth of appeals. My demands became more demanding. Until a few days back!   

         ‘Eat, drink and be merry’, the wise bard had proclaimed, ‘for tomorrow ye diet.’ I was soon to find out that ‘diet’ as I had construed all along for dieting, could also be interpreted for ‘dieth’ as in death. I went to sleep one night feeling okay and got up almost knocking at the doors of Heaven, or Hell or wherever it is I am ordained for. Somewhere along the line of the eating, the drinking and the merry making, a jealous and deadly virus had decided to invade into my blood stream. I was diagnosed with ‘food poisoning’. I never knew that food- the one thing that fueled sustenance, if frozen for more than its designated time lapse, also had the power to de-fuel you.

       I spent eight long hours in the hospital with a string of tubes attached to my palm. The first half of this grave period, I spent turning to Him with a clichéd question on my pallid lips- ‘Why me, God, why me?’ But as I lay there, dehydrated and defused, with nothing much to do but stare at the drip drip dripping of the endless drops of the Intra Venous solution, trickling onto me, I started to think that maybe ‘Why not me?’ posed a much better query. Equipped with physical, mental, economical and familial strength, wasn’t I much better off to handle situations like these than some of the others? That day I also got to thinking that maybe this was a form of interest for all the amenities that life has pampered me with. Or possibly it was just a cruel reminder of the impermanency of a life form on earth. Or perhaps it was just a lesson for giving into gluttony- one of the seven deadly sins designed for mankind. Anyway I had had my minor flirtation with Death and I must say it was not a very pleasant affair.

       The next day I came back fit as a fiddle and here I am. Trying once again to understand the complex ways that a Body functions. And trying once again to find a whole new meaning in the age- old adage that ‘Health is Wealth.’ I had read somewhere that life is a drawing on a canvas without erasers. No matter what, good or bad, your deeds simply cannot be obliterated. Deeds maybe, but what about life itself? Mine almost got wiped off. I do realize that one ‘Delete’ key will always be followed by ‘Enter’. Yet when those giant hands start to fly on the keyboard above, one cannot help but wish that a certain ‘Space’ is always provided for them.   

          After this life-threatening encounter, my prayers have had a slight discrepancy too. It is no longer done with egotistic malice only dealt in emergencies of sorts. Instead it is done with forethought and on a daily basis. And apart from the usual ‘give me this’ and ‘give them that’ applications, I also manage to make time to fill in a short and simple four liner. Those lines which millions before me have already been saying every night. And which millions after me will continue to say. 

    “As I lay me down to sleep

      I pray the Lord, my soul to keep

      And if I die before I wake

      I pray the Lord, my soul to take.”

        

                                                   ********------------********