Chronicles of Daily Life – Part 1, by Bijoya

LIFE-

Though, we live in a society which is built on the idea that the necessary need of life is to marry, I did not believe, that it was needed. I was born a happy child, playing, singing, dancing, reading, gardening, the list of things I loved to do was diverse but very creative. 

I read somewhere, a mother looks at her baby for the 1st time and says “How ugly you are and how I love you!!’ True, when I laid my eyes on my baby for the very 1st time, I remember to have felt like a euphoria of making something so perfect, and falling in love ones again. I fell in love with the idea of becoming a mother long back. Reminds me of the lines, “icchey hoe chhili moner majhare” (you were a wish in the depths of my heart). 

The issue is no one knows how thigs will happen in life. As a young girl my only wish was to earn money and take care of my family. I would pay attention to studies, take keen interest in the household chores and as both my mother and grand mother were very good cooks, I wanted to learn the art too. My father was a typical Bengali male, believing that it is the job of a woman to take care of the kitchen, and hence I never saw him enter the kitchen except for bringing in the groceries. All the festivities were celebrated with a generous serving of very well-cooked food. The house was full of relatives and neighbours most times of the year.  

Ours was a small nuclear family as they say, Grandparents, parents, and 2 for us, sisters, that was it. I was taught to be a good girl, study, learn good manners, listen to whatever is being said to you, do not speak out of turn (I would do that all the time). I was a typical rebel, always had a mind of my own, however that was the beginning of a spark that lives with me even today. 

Dadu was the person who was my closest friend as I was not allowed to have friends of my own. My grandmother did not approve of making friends with the neighbours as she felt they were not up to the mark and hence, Dadu and Thakuma (thamma as I fondly called her) were my friends and companions. My parents did not think of me as someone who needed their care, other than, the financial. Baba (my father) would at a much later age, discussed religion, the different reasons why we need to perform a Puja, why we need to make a connect with the Omnipresent, why it is very important to understand why we pray? If God exists, does it matter whether or not I believe in HIS existence. These were the topics that were my topics of discussion with Dadu as well.

The recent incident of Ram Janmabhumi has left a deep mark in my Spiritual Journey. Why? Is the question I am looking for, why?  Do we need to prove that my belief is superior than yours. I was raised with a belief that the omnipresent, is the same for everyone. The belief that the super power exists and that we do not question its classification, or subdivisions. Then why do we need to demolish someone’s belief to prove mine? The deep implications of our holy books as lost in the mundane war fares of shallow belief system. Gauri Shankar, Sita Ram,Radhe Radhe ,Shyam Shyam.

Bijoya