It is March in Delhi and the chill has managed to keep its presence alive still. Weather has been playing games and it is difficult to say whether the erratic showers are for winter or spring. But,it has surely cleared the air to a great extent.
It is Maha Shivratri, today. The sky is still dark as I breathe into the dawn. Flickers of light crackle through the clouds on ground. The air remains chill and yet the sound of spring breaks into an echo as the light spreads into the grey. The mist remains untouched.
I look around the view. If only we let the earth be…
I am fasting today. Most of us do. This is one fast, I don’t complain about. Over the years, I practice a number of fasts, most of them at the behest of the elders who believe that, my fasts will ensure a long a better life for my husband and child. Do I believe them? I don’t know. Honestly, it is more about keeping peace with tradition than keeping pace. Of course I question, after all I am alive without anyone really fasting for me. I wonder why do we keep asking for everything. I have really wondered at times, if I am a non-believer.
No, I don’t suppose I can call my self a non-believer, for I believe. It is like knowing spring has arrived even when winter is visibly lazing around, not ready to make way. And this is where my paradox lies. I believe in the Supreme Power and yet I question the process. I look for the science behind tradition and I question the rigidity of the procedure. There is a reason why I believe in Shivratri as a fast. It is because of the oneness it brings with the God of Gods. This fast is not a ritual for me as an asking or thanking process to the Supreme Lord; it is in fact a process of entwining with the cosmos for a glimpse of my inner Shiva.
Har Har Mahadev!