Dear Auntyji
I have a situation from last Diwali that I wanted your rai on. Generally, because I am married to an Australian, I don’t really do anything for Diwali. My sister-in-law celebrates it every year and goes out of her way to make all sorts of sweets. Now Auntyji, in the 25 years I have known her, I have rarely asked her for anything. In fact, I am always giving her stuff – because it’s the right thing to do.
Anyway, last Diwali, I asked her to make me a batch of barfis. Sneha is a great cook and her barfis are to die for. She is from Fiji so her barfis are different from ours. But she politely declined, saying she wouldn’t be able to make them because she would prefer to use that time for worship. I nearly fell off the chair when I read that text.
I am not a religious person, but I wondered to myself, what is the point of sitting in front of a statue praying to be good, when you can do an act of service and earn good karma that way? Still, I sent a polite text back saying I understood and all. But, Auntyji, I really don’t understand. What is the purpose of prayer without a practical application of an act of service to others? Isn’t service to others a form of prayer? Am I the jaahil in all of this?Â
Auntyji says
Oh my plateful of chamcham, how nadaan you are to have such an intelligent viewpoint on religion when you are surrounded by jaahils. Yes, I completely agree with you. If there was a devta, I would expect that of all the prayers and supplications, the most cherished act would be one of service to a banda.
So your Sneha has fallen into the trap of religious people everywhere who believe that spending time in sisdha or in front of a murat is an act of worship. These people feel that thinking about god and trying to be good and praying to be good is the way to godliness.
If only they spend one minute thinking about this, they would realise that an act of service to others is a hundred times better than 5000 wahegurus or a thousand rakats. But let’s be charitable and look at it this way. Let Sneha have her up close and personal with her devta. And you can thank her when you have your up close and personal with your bathroom scales – because you would have become an elaichi-scented gola barfi yourself. And yes, I know exactly what you mean about those Fiji barfis. I believe they make them with powdered milk and elaichi and ghee and sugar. Sadly, neither of us will know because snarky Sneha is unlikely to share the recipe with us either – may she sit in front of her devta until she becomes a baingan from the lack of exercise.