Inculcate: A glass wall in the office had a sticker on it saying “We don’t count on miracles; we make them”. It was strategically placed to induce cheer in the employees for innovation at workplace. I was resolute to stay me and not them – never lived up to the slogan in that job (or any of the succeeding ones). I ignored the writing on the wall; they were early signs of my crash-landing. A sticker, even after being rubbed off for 4 long years, failed to light my fire. My tryst with miracles continued with a pinch of salt.
Witness: Back in ’95, Indian TV was at a nascent stage of its ‘media’ avatar. That didn’t come in its way to spread all over the atmosphere that Lord Ganesha was sipping milk from the spoons of his devotees. Sorry…I meant the statues that represent a Lord were. Thousands flocked to experience this hands-on form of spirituality. For a day they turned rational, looking to substantiate their blind faith. Devotees of other gods switched flanks – first come (down to earth), first serve (milk) – couldn’t miss this spoon-feeding chance in the name of loyalty to say, Lord Shiva. A few half-wits spoilt the fun by proving this suction act to be a scientific phenomenon rather than a divine miracle. I moved on keeping an eye out for miracles.
Long: It was a popular entry on MTV classics: “All I need is a miracle” (by ‘Mike + The Mechanics’). I wanted to hear this racy, pop-rock song I often. I couldn’t follow lyrics, I still can’t. I don’t know the name of the singer. Nor it’s the genre I take an active liking in. The song demands a higher range that the singer had naturally enabled in his vocal cords. I don’t know what exactly might have struck a chord with me. I am not endowed with optimism, but enjoy it in short bursts – like the duration of this song. Craving for miracles is a good pastime occupation.
Deal: Mother Teresa was canonized as a saint a few weeks back within 19Y of her death. It was conferred on her after formal validation of not one, but two miracles by an esteemed jury (presumably consisting of subject matter experts). Solemnity is of paramount importance – when you have a mindless content to deliver to a brainless population. Miracles aren’t only about daydreaming; it’s a subject of solicitation.
Enough of airs, time for oxygen – allow me to share my tribal wisdom.
· You swam really well to be you. Exactly one in millions of sperms one fine day (or night) made you. The rest went down the drain.
· You breathe in the nastiest of chemical compounds every second. Still you’re alive right now, against all the deadliest of virus and bacteria.
· Homeless moms give birth to homeless kids. They just crawl out in the dust to see the sun. Some of them grow up and a few cross 40 too.
· The poor co-exist with the rich without attacking them too often. I’ve seen them on speaking terms with each other.
· A heart beats 1 lakh times a day of your life. It starts after 4 weeks of conception inside your mother’s womb. It runs till you die – with the exception of skipping a few beats under extra-ordinary circumstances.
· Most of the population is blindly certain about the presence of God and need for religion. However, it’s not good to have one for all. Geography and parents decide which God/religion gets allocated to you at birth.
I named a few to suggest I’m immersed in miracles even when I retain consciousness. What’s there to fantasize? It’s for real – just that the time, place and actor may not match your demands. I trample on some, get crushed by some.