Restoring Faith

I was looking at the housing.com website and watching the Look Up – Housing video and their ideas of housing being the right of everybody – filling the world with positivity and optimism resonated with me. (You can check out the video here). I suppose it has something to do with the fact that there is a baby on the way (and who might be here a lot soon than I anticipated) but, I seem to have a lot of questions that I desperately wish I had answers to. From the silly, ‘will my child ever see a tiger or will poachers truly wipe them out?’ or ‘will my baby really have to listen to music without soul?’, to the more serious, ‘will he or she be able to cycle in the street and not leave me constantly worrying about an accident?’ or ‘will he or she be able to go to school and come back home without some sick sick person taking away his or her innocence?’ As any mother-to-be must wonder at some point, I have looked at the world around me and questioned if it makes sense to bring a child into the world when things are as miserable as they are. While on one side we celebrate India’s wins at the cricket world cup, on the other we hang our heads in shame as we come to terms with the existence of men who can so casually justify their heinous crimes. Whenever I think we as a country can sink no lower and the only way is up, something happens and I realize that it’s only getting worse. But, it’s not just at home…it’s everywhere in the world. Is anyone, anywhere safe anymore? There are days when the future seems all too bleak…

But then I only need to recall an evening I recently spent with my four-year old niece…

That day, she wanted to play “sports day” and got out her little motor bike, Speedy. “Come Teyti! (which is what she calls me) Let’s have a race!“, she said. Thinking that it could be fun and since everyone had told me the more active I am while pregnant the better, I agreed and like any normal adult, I made sure that I followed her slowly while she turned on “super speed” mode and crossed the finish line first. My mother put an imaginary medal round her neck and she was thrilled.

We had repeated the race a couple of times and she had won a whole lot of imaginary medals when suddenly she stopped and looked at me very sadly. “You haven’t won any medals no, Teyti?” I shook my head and said, “No. You’re just too fast for me!” That’s when she said, “Come, I’ll hold your hand so you can go faster and get a gold medal this time. I have so many already.”

I looked at her and all at once, my faith in our failing world was restored. I remember seeing an episode of Greys Anatomy where one of the characters said something like, “This is how the world changes, good people raising their babies right…” Perhaps it isn’t such a bad idea to believe that and be optimistic about tomorrow…

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UBC13: Prayer

I’ve never been able to pray out loud except with my parents and brother during our evening prayers. One of my most embarrassing memories from school is stammering over the “Our Father” when I was asked to lead the rosary one week at my church. It’s a prayer I’ve known since before I could fully appreciate the deep meaning of the words, but I still drew a blank and had to be prompted. Since then, every time someone asks me to get up behind a mic and recite a common prayer, I’ve made sure I’ve had a copy of it in front of me. (For those of you who know me personally, I’m sure you don’t really believe me considering you are aware that I quite enjoy getting up in front of a crowd and talking…but, I promise you, it’s true).

I had pushed that childhood memory to the back of my mind but it came right back when my husband suggested becoming more regular hands-304398_640with our daily prayers and that I should lead. I did what anyone would do…I panicked. Me lead?? Erm… Even though I know in my heart it is a good idea, I still haven’t been able to get around to doing it.

So, I’ve done a lot of thinking and reading and I now realize that I’m uncomfortable, embarrassed and a little scared too, simply because for me prayer is a private conversation with God and not a group chat. Even if the group is just my husband and I. See, when I pray, I talk…like God is my buddy…I don’t usually say the prayers I learnt by heart when I was a child. I simply talk about my day, what I’m afraid of, what I’ve done and how I would like to be better. It’s not a conventional prayer in any sense. I admire people who can not only pray out loud with ease but also include everyone in the room in their prayer as well. As of last night, I still wasn’t one of those people. So, even though my husband suggested it and I know it’s a good plan, I still carry on with my silent prayers, hoping to be able to sit down with my husband and pray out loud in my own style one day. (I really hope that day is today).

What is your take on prayer? Do you deviate from the conventional recitation? Do you think you can pray out loud? Or like me, do you prefer private conversations?

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First Crush

Maya drew little hearts around their names. But, sometimes she wondered if he even knew she existed.

Mia and Maya were by the gate when he walked towards them. Her heart began to race. She allowed herself to hope.

He looked past her, asking Mia out…

Then she knew why it was called a crush.

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This post is written for the 55 Fictionist Contest, hosted by IndiBlosp