Letters From God…

I am there when you cry
I am there when you try
I am there when smile
I've always been there watching u, guiding you....
I am a witness to all...
the fulfilled and shattered dreams...
I speak to you constantly...
I can be heard in the silence of the senses...
I am always watching over you ...
I've been there with you in all the stages of your existence
...and in times when you get entangled in the transient, worldly ocean...
Trust Me...
I am always going to be there...
as a witness and
a guiding light within you as you...
No matter what
I am eternal
I am never going to abandon you
All you have to believe is that I AM.
Let go off...
Everything that is transitory...
I am changeless
Let go....
They are not going to stay...
Don't hold on to pain
Surrender
Go to the source
Come to ME...

Your
Conscience…

I am thankful that life has treated me kindly; I have always been surrounded by people who love me. Excepting the routine malice of initial marital compromises or challenges of career choices (grateful to have open options to juggle with, rather than having none) or stress of multitasking or bearing the burden of the inflating bubble of desires, nothing has really been disconcerting to me.
But, as they say, in the journey to death one must pass through a dark tunnel to be able to acknowledge light. I have seen the lurking shadows and opened myself to become a lighthouse and absorb the darkness.
Ever since I opened my eyes to notice the world I fell in love with the person who was as delicate as a bud, as beautiful as the multihued rainbow and as open as a smile-my grandmother. Her caring, wrinkled hands woke me up from slumber, stroked and soothed me. Her fragile, tiny frame carried a beautiful pair of eyes that told the story of beauty and youthfulness she once possessed. I called her “Maa”. I felt protective of her and wrote notes of love to her almost every day which she treasured in her exquisite letter chest. I don’t remember her throwing even one small note in the bin during her random house cleaning projects, no matter how indecipherable it was. The love I feel even today, with her gone, expands my heart.
Maa was not only caring but also progressive and outgoing. But she was also very alone with her books and me as her only company who gave her some quality time and lent her an ear to pour all her experiences upon. Although she was unlike others who would crib and complain about having a difficult and lonely life of a young widow who brought up her three children on her own in times when women were treated like pieces of furniture. I wouldn’t say that my dad, aunts and uncles were ruthless and uncaring but they were busy trying to swim in the Dead Sea to nourish their families. I was a witness to her story unfolding in front of my eyes and from infancy to adolescence to adulthood she has been my best friend.
I harbored a fear of losing her so I used to pray to God to seek my consent before taking her away to the heavens. I was so defensive about her that I used to cry and scream if something happened to her or when she would go out of town. My mom, dad and sibling would make efforts in vain to console me. She would call up at odd hours of the night to check on me just in the moment when I would throw a fit for her. She would take me to temples, teach me to pray and thank God. She would enlighten me with stories of Mahatma Gandhi and Krishna.
I feel Love itself is a miracle as it penetrates through the thick wall built up by the babbling mind.
A time came when she fell to serious illness. Doctors had given up as she struggled with cerebral palsy, strokes, ulcers and old age. As I stood in front of a little temple at one corner outside the critical care unit and looked the idol in the eyes, as if reminding him of his promise, I said “I am not prepared to let her go; I am not giving my consent as yet.” In a few days Maa returned but the disease had left her even more brittle than ever. I was in the first lap of my marriage but I felt I was needed with Maa more than anything else. Most of my time went around her, organizing her reports and medicines. She always blessed me with words and gestures that she was capable of. Her condition deteriorated and one Saturday evening as I stood beside her bed taking her temperature she made an effort to open her eyes and told me to sit on the bed and take her head burning with fever in my lap and then she requested me to stroke her gently. I stooped down to kiss her forehead and her lips twitched into a smile. The roles were reversed and I was in her place that day. She looked like a baby, I sat their till she fell asleep. And just when I was about to go she mumbled softly that she wanted to go now as she was in grave pain which I could feel deep inside of me. That evening with tears in my eyes I looked up and granted my consent. Maa passed away in her sleep the next morning.
Later, when I was cleaning her stuffs I found the chest full of letters , mostly written by me at various stages of my life and along with them I found those letters which she had written to me when I was young and wouldn’t understand her overwhelming emotions for her only companion in life- for me. Waves of change washed over my soul and moved me to a point where I realized how vulnerable old age and loneliness can make a self-reliant person. How their self-respect is exposed and gets trampled by trespassers.
I started an organization called Kritagya (Gratitude) Foundation volunteering to help old and forlorn people who have been deserted by their thankless families in the name of practicalities and running after mirages. I was joined by some likeminded and noble souls and together we took a pledge to serve and offer our gratitude. My eyes well up to see their searching and waiting eyes.
Where Maa left, the vacuum cannot be filled but with her manifold blessings I have set out to share the love and gather more blessings and grace in return. My life has found its true meaning and purpose. My complaints, bitterness, selfishness diminishes in the goodness of my karma cleansing my heart and polishing my soul to shine with divine virtues.
I conceived my son Neal in the same month when maa left and he loves me and protects me in a similar way and from the time he learnt his alphabets he has started writing notes to me in his babyish handwriting which I preserve with utmost care in the letter chest because I know these are messages from God.
“God! I am true to the path you’ve shown me as you were true to your promise.”
Love itself is a miracle as it shows you the face of God.

© Shreeja Jhawar
Story Published in the book,'Rendezvous With God' by Abhilasha Agarwal and Shreeja Mohatta Jhawar