“They walked past the minarets of serenity within the house of Allah, they heard the peaceful sounds of temple bells for Shiva, folded hands while glancing at the Granth Sahib, nudging every wheel with inscripted chants of bliss within the temple of Buddha. Everyone had a different name but none knew the right word of God. Helpless they stopped looking for what can’t be found & found what they always overlooked”
I must admit I feel a bit nervous while writing to you. I have no idea from where should I start & where to put a period. Honestly I don’t know your real name, so I’ll prefer to call you “God”.
There is so much I feel like asking you but I feel scared. I feel worried. Some say if I do things my way I might burn in hell, others tell me that I might be reincarnated in some hideous animal. While some shun me off whenever I ask. So finally I thought of writing to you. Mayb I get a reply someday.
God, I wear a skull cap & in absolute ablution I bow down my head in your grace. Nothing gives me more peace. But when I cross a temple wearing the same cap, they tell me that the scripture says that you live within the form of the idol. I light up a lamp & the sound of that temple bell gives me calm. The moment I hear the carols beneath a cross, I feel alienated because of that mark on my forehead, the priest tells me that the truth of your being lies within the sacrifice of Jesus on that cross. Sometimes a turban stands for my honour & faith.
I tried chasing away my sorrows by ruining my shivering fingers through the beats of Tasbeeh & Rudraksh. I see people walking barefoot on mountains & bathing in rivers. I see people chanting for you & I also see people crying for you.
God, I don’t know if you know those men or not, who say I am a murderer & I terrorise people because I call you Allah. I also don’t know do you know those who kill millions in a ego to make people believe that your real name is Ram or Allah. God, What is your real name?
I thought you had made me just like any other human being, but you never told me that a Dalit can’t be equal to me. You didn’t even remind me that ripping off people in explosions is a deed.
Why didn’t you tell me that if I am poor I can’t hold my esteem in the world. God, I thought you were impartial but why didn’t you tell me what you taught all those who teach the same things to the world in your name?
My mum keeps praying to you all the time still she remains ill, where does all those prayers go, when you ain’t even hearing her out. Why did you promise her that you shall be there when none would be.
Last evening I gave some money to a person who didn’t have a leg, he had torn clothes & a shabby frowned face. His little kid held his hand while he struggled to walk & still he lifted his hands & prayed for me. Even after so many worried he looks upto you, just you. Why god why? Why ain’t you listening to him?
I’ll have to go , mum says it’s time for prayer & she never misses any chance to pray to you. Please listen to her this time. Try to keep my letter only to you, if people see it they might term me as an atheist and lynch me to death. I am a human God, I feel scared in the absence of you.
With love & Hope,
Imran Rakesh Mathew