Prompt day 21 - Prayer (with Satbir Chadha)
She used to pray. She would just sit on her bed in her small bedroom and fold her hands and pray. She did not face in any direction, or faced any direction it was convenient for her to, though she said once to him that it was good to face the sun. A left-over from the Vedas. Sometimes with closed eyes and sometimes with open ones, she would pray, she would wrestle in prayer. Sometimes her lips would move and sometimes it would not. There was a lot of, a great deal of, intensity in it, a determination, will power, and sometimes a concentrated struggle, but at the end, a serenity would come all over her face, as if she had received the certainty that what she had asked for had been given, what she had to let go off had been let go off, or as if she had heard what she had been told (to do or not do) etc. Let go and let God. She looked most beautiful just after prayer. Her prayer reminded him of the ordinary picture that hung in front of his house, framed, of someone who had once asked the cup to be taken away from him but only if it was in the Will of the Divine. He felt safe at the sight, as he knew he was among those being prayed for, but he knew her prayers ranged much, much wider than that.
He, on the other hand, was someone whom he never saw pray, alone, but his life itself was a prayer, starting from when he got up in the morning, at 6 am to when he slept at 9 or 10. It was only after he died that he saw a video of him praying for all the family, a video taken for posterity's sake, praying out loud and it was touching how he remembered and mentioned each person and their needs, praying for so many people, one by one.
You don't need any building to pray in. The temple is your body. You don't need any name to pray to. You pray to the Supreme, the Absolute. You just say what you want to, ask what you want to, what comes from the Heart, from the depths of the heart, then relapse into silence, and listen, listen to the silence and sometimes, if you are lucky, it will speak to you, silently impress on your heart what to do or what not to do. what to say or what not to say, what to be or what not to be. Your prayers may or may not be answered but when you pray forgive all whom you think harmed or hurt you, whether they actually did or not, and let go off all your worries, anxieties, complaints, grievances, negative thoughts, hatred, grumbling and whining one by one to enter into peace and pray not for yourself but for all as you contain all, not differentiating between friend or foe.
You may use words sometimes or you may not but if you use words be specific. You may get what you asked for or not but persist in prayer till you reach its end.
Prayer, after all, what is it? It is a life like his, laid down or sacrificed daily, moment by moment for his loved ones, or a prayer like hers that is like a fire or a flame that burns down all negativity and gathers strength to build up after that all that is good in the world.
Prayer, after all, what is it? It is the holy land or place that waits for you to enter and remain there permanently with your shoes off in reverence, on bare feet, metaphorically speaking. Prayer? Prayer is poetry.
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