Like a prayer

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 Last night I went for a short ride on Roma with V. We ate dosa and he dropped me home. I bought milk and unwilling to head home, I took a rick to Mount Mary's. It was pretty as usual. I love Mother Mary's statue there. Her face is so serene, innocent, and peaceful. It's not the fragile peace of someone who always had it good. It's the sturdy peace of someone who has seen calm in the face after peeling back pain. 

I went to buy a candle. Was thinking of getting a pink one. But a  charming little girl at the stall smiled and told me to take a lavender one instead. So I did. You can't really light candles at the Basilica anymore. You have to deposit them in a box in front of the statue. So I did that and was standing around, just watching the area. It is the most lusciously peaceful place in the world, for me. 

A couple came. They seemed to be out of towners. The man wore a striped t-shirt and corduroy pants. The woman with him had her hair up in a bouffant, kohled eyes and wore a forest-green satin saree with zari. They both had large teekas on their forehead. 

Both were unsure about what to do next. I saw them looking up at Mother Mary. The woman then took off her slippers and kneeled down, closed her eyes, folded her hands, and prayed. Maybe she was following what we generally do in temples. The man looked around a little nervously. No one else was doing that. But he let her be. He was holding a wax statue shaped like a baby. (You get different types of wax statues to represent your desire - house, car, heart shaped ones for love, bike, etc.) He put that in the box, next to our bunch of candles.

The lady opened her eyes. She was crying. From a knot in her pallu, she took out a passport-sized photo of a child and made it face the Mother. Then she got up and the couple left.

Sometimes, witnessing this sort of devotion that is pure heart makes me believe that all is not lost. 

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