“When was God
born?” asked a fifth grader in my General Knowledge class today.
I fumbled,
broke pace and glanced out of the third floor window. Right across, invisible
to the eye but just beyond the school boundary wall was the Jain temple. Walk
past it on the right, a few paces and you were at the famed Sai Baba Mandir. Local
lore had it that he school’s happy and prosperous air derived from the positive
vibes in the proximity. Several Lodhi Road inhabitants including many of my
colleagues were regulars at the temples. ‘Prasad’ in one form or the other, was
a recurrent component of my school snack. While I functioned as the school
hostel’s deputy warden, some of our student examinees were persistent in their
desire to visit the temples right before their critical exams. Early morning sandal
tilaks were common on small foreheads, as were the red coloured religious
threads on plump forearms and wrists.
We celebrated
the days of the birth of Vivekananda, Pandit Nehru as also India, the nation
but God’s birthday? Was He born? At all? Ever?
I turned back
to the forty odd pairs of eyes with their question marks flashing at me. The
author of the query stood close to my table, patient and expectant.
I cast about
in my mental hard drive. God as in a representative figure like Jesus or the
Prophet or the Avatars? There were
historical figures available to pin their arrival on the planet. Would that be
an age appropriate and accurate answer? Although, were they God or His sons? What
really went on before them? Is God an immutable reality or an idea that sprung
forth after the Big Bang and in the first man’s head, of all the things? Or
does it work backwards, to say that God existed before existence came into
being.
I heard a notebook
fall to the ground followed by some scraping of the chairs. “May I drink water”,
asked the originator of the train of thoughts!! I nodded absently and gazed
after the hurriedly scampering form.
Like most
Indians, I dipped my head just a shade when within visual distance of a
religious place. At every significant family happening, there was the mandatory
thanksgiving trip to the Gurudwara. My conversation was peppered with the word ‘God’.
Thank God! Good Lord! Wahe Guru! Hey Ram! God promise! Lord have mercy! Allah
be praised! In the name of heaven! God willing!
But when was God born?!
I gathered my
cerebral tumult as the end of period bell jangled harshly. One look at the
rapidly disintegrating class and some words fell out of my surprised mouth, “It
is hard to say since there really is nothing like time in reality. It is us
humans who made calendars and days and hours.” I stole a quick glance at my
audience, gathered up my teaching paraphernalia and made good my escape just as
their trance dissolved and they began to nod their heads in acceptance,
reserved exclusively for the junior school teacher.
Note: Pics by Aqseer
Note: Pics by Aqseer
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