A Visit to a Temple

I was going to a temple to pray
Not because of any religious fervour or necessity
But due to a compulsion.
I was newly married
And my comely wife had resolved to produce a religious man in me.

I walked a victim of her wish.
I seldom go to a temple
As a matter of fact, any religious place
Arouses a sense of artificiality in me.
A sense that nullifies the omnipresence of God.

And here I was, carrying a pitcher full of water
Moving towards my destination with affected graveness.
My mind mocked at me
Does God need a particular place, an office to reside?
I acted deaf.

At a turn in the street, barely did I notice
That my feet had crippled countless ants underneath them.
Poor creatures, collecting food for the rainy season
Now wriggling, themselves food for other predators.
Clouds roared, their anger was deafening.

I moved forward, a picture of guilt, my face grimaced
I felt like drowning myself in the water
Meant for bathing God
These innocent lives would have been saved
Had I not succumbed to my wife’s wishes, I was penitent.

I didn’t know when I was at the temple gate
Jingle of bells, sweet incense, evergreen trees, soothing ambience
Everything lightened the weight sitting on my chest.
After a ceremonious bow, I stepped inside
The weight re-clung to my heart with ever increasing forcefulness.

The path up to the sanctum sanctorum was a labyrinth for me
Small insects of various species were feasting
On the food bits and sweets, scattered on the temple floor.
A myriad of them were dead, a myriad in the process of dying
Stuck in their breakfast, trampled over by the feet of devotes.

I couldn’t muster courage to reach up to God, somehow I returned home,
The sun walking with me, white and ashamed.
Someone in me went on repeating that I had grown mad.
Thinking of such insignificant things as insects dying
Liable to die at any given moment. Go to a psychiatrist, he told me.

I took little heed of him.
Today, I am a writer.

copyright 2007 Deepak Kapur
bio
Barnwood magazine
Contents 07