Om

How important is spirituality in your life?

In any of the towns in south India, you will find that the residents typically wake up early and the first order of business is cleaning the front yard and creating the Rangoli. Mum always had a maid, hired to come in at 6 am (that was the earliest the maids woke up) to clean the house. I registered the practice after I got Tara home because the smell of petrichor was usually tinged with phenyl or Dettol. I’ve visited Chennai, where all of this happened an hour earlier. People are up and about and maids come in, sweep and wash the front yard, create the Rangoli, and only then come in to clean the house. And this happened outside every home every morning. This smell of petrichor often mingled with the scent of fresh brewed coffee and if you had a nose for milk, you would also be able to pick the aroma of fresh milk boiling on the stovetops every morning. Some houses would have the news tuned in and some would have the Suprabhatam playing. You would occasionally hear a cooker whistle in homes that also started prepping for the day and the usual milk whistles- those shrill single-tone whistles that always made me feel like someone was scratching the board with their nails. I’ve grown up to a combination of some or all these sounds and smells in my hometown, so listening to this in Chennai, a few months into my marriage made me homesick.

I grew up in south India. I always woke to the smell of petrichor, not rain hitting the mud, but water sprinkled on the earth at dawn and the aroma of freshly boiled milk mingled with freshly brewed coffee. Waking up was a joy. Until I heard the click and the dulcet voice of MS Subbulakshmi’s Venkateshwara Sahasranamam reverberated in my head. Mum believed that God only heard the Suprabhatam at a certain decibel level and she aced that number every single day. I don’t know how, but my younger sibling managed to sleep with the cacophony of MS playing on the stereo generously interspersed with the barks from the dogs every time someone came up the street. They barked at the milkman, the newspaperman, the flower delivery lady, the maids, all regular delivery people, people they saw every day. I usually woke up with the start of MS singing, ‘Kausalya suprajarama, purvaa, sandhyaa, pravartate..’ And like always, Dad would be waiting outside my bedroom door, watching to see when I moved into the bath to brush my teeth. He would then have my coffee ready. Mum used to be ready by this time to start her puja. I would walk out to the dining area, to the smell of agarbattis mixed with the smell of Dad’s cigarettes and freshly brewed coffee and two dogs with tails wagging so fast, I am still stunned that it did not propel them forward.

For Mum, spirituality was her tiny puja room filled with picture frames of Gods and tiny idols she worshipped every morning. She had a basket of fresh flowers to offer them and often read from a Tamil prayer book. I have never been able to multi-task, but she was able to read her prayerbook while MS sang loudly in the background and the dogs barked wildly outside. Her Puja usually lasted a couple of hours, during which she would light the lamp, read the book, offer the Prasadam and do the Naivedyam, and finally finish with the Aarti and the lighting of the camphor and all this was completed while MS played in the background. I have tried reducing the volume on the player and Mum came out grumbling from the Puja room, irritated to be disturbed to increase the volume a few more decibels higher than it was before I turned it down. The sound of the bell at the end of the final Aarti was my signal to run into the bathroom before Mum came out of the Puja room. Usually, Dad would chase me in so we would avoid an argument. Most times it worked, sometimes I would be still hovering around and Mum would come and yell at me for reducing the volume of her music first thing in the morning. Most of the time, these arguments were just that, loud discussions between two generations having differing beliefs. Dad always tried to mediate. And I was never in the mood for a mediation. I never have been. And I don’t think I will ever be. But, I lived peacefully with Mum’s spiritual beliefs. She never imposed it on us or forced us to follow a particular thing. We have always been encouraged to practice what we believe in. Dad on the other hand believed that God was Omnipresent and followed this practice. When he was around the Puja room when Mum’s Puja was completed, he would say a prayer, else he would say it, when he was ready. He did not believe that prayers would only be answered if they were said between 7 am and 9 am every morning. And he told me as much. I grew up with these differing beliefs and neither was imposed on me.

After marriage and once the kids were born, I often visited Mum’s house over long weekends when the kids could play and spend time with her and by then she had stopped listening to MS. She still said her prayers in the morning, but it seemed more mellow. The kids have often sat around her or on her lap while she said her prayers and participated. I’ve always maintained a Puja room in my home. Everywhere I have lived, I have a prayer room, that’s dusted and cleaned regularly. I remember a handful of shlokas Mum taught me as a child, that I still merrily chant when I say my prayer. Thanks to Spotify, Apple Music, and Alexa, I also have access to almost all devotional songs sung by MS. I love her voice and I confess, I often listen to her songs, especially the Vishnu Sahasranamam because it triggers an avalanche of memories for me. So, when I think of spirituality, for me it is a way to give thanks. I’ve never believed in playing any kind of prayer music loudly or saying my prayers in front of an audience. While I believe that God is Omnipresent, I often say a prayer silently. I give thanks to the universe silently. And I chant my shlokas silently. For me, spirituality is a time of silence- of introspection- of acceptance, and hopefully of growth. I have listened to MS while walking in the morning, sometimes on the flight as it takes off, and on occasion when I missed Mum a lot. So, for me, spirituality is important as it helps me center myself and keeps me grounded.