God's Own Little Trip Out Here

Today was good. Mom was home, and I didn't have one of those expected arguments with her. She came with an agenda:- to see the God/s. I had my supporting work plan:- show her the God/s and whatever else she wanted to see. Easier said than done, because if you knew her, you know that my mom thinks of herself as a spring chicken and her mind wants to do a 100 different things at the same time, and she isn't sure which one to do first. So her legs pull her one way, her mind another and well, her body gives in to her age after a bit. Today, I realized my impulsiveness that I thought was an inheritance from my dad's side of the family, is actually, and truly, only my mom's legacy that I will preserve.

Today was one of those days at work when I didn't let my wimpiness get in the way of my work. So I battled male egos, boss behaviors,assorted colleague outbursts and my own frustrations at inept co-workers to end a day civilly, albeit with as much to do as I started out with.

Also one of those mornings that started at 629, that had me hungry and weak and pining for morning coffee that presented itself rather late and breakfast that appeared earlier than usual. A day that started with considerable pining, that tapered to allow for some thinking.

Mom stopped the auto on an impulse on our way after dinner. And decided she wanted to see the Gods as they stepped out onto the streets circumambulating the temple. They (the deities) will do this again tomorrow morning, when she will be on her own, and I will constantly agonize over whether she is safe, and hope that she is not trampled upon by the jostling, often ruthless bunch of devotees.

To tell the truth, I enjoyed myself too, as we waited for the Lord to step out of the temple complex. He did a little jig too. (If you haven't seen this before, esp. u, dear A- the god is really a "utsava murti", a bronze figurine, decorated beautifully, and he sits on a little chariot that looks like it is pulled by a set of (plaster of paris*) elephants; which in turn, sit on a larger chariot that's pulled by a bunch of Brahmin*(I hope) men. )(Note to self: Must go to Mysore this dussera to see the real tuskers). I have seen this when I was younger, but mainly cos I was forced to (the timing of the week-long festival is rather bad:- this is usually the end-term exam time). This time around, I found myself looking forward to the God's imminent arrival, as cymbals and nadaswarams, not to mention, bandmasters (and drum-beats reminiscent of PT) heralded His day (and night?) out into the streets of the devout. I think he is still there, as I prepare to turn in for the day.

But yes, God, please do bless.