Godman`s Cult - Part 1: The wakeup call
by Meena
Posted: 09 October 2003 Word Count: 569 Summary: Children can teach us adults one or two things when it comes to having blind faith. |
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Part 1 : The wakeup call
Ding-ding-ding – Maya Kundalini Kriya Madhumati … my senses were slowly awakening. My ears coming alive to the sound of ding-ding-ding – Maya Kundalini Kriya Madhumati. My nose was beginning to inhale deeply the aromatic sandalwood fragrance of the incense wafting into my bedroom from the puja room. Suddenly my eyes burst opened – wide and panicky at the shrieking voice
‘Nidhi, wake up or I’ll come and whip your legs.’
This was the usual scene at 5 a.m. every morning in my household. I groaned and turned over for a few minutes more of nap sleep. It would be a while before mum found time to come and whip my legs as she would be busy watering and praying to the holiest of all Indian plants ‘the Tulsi’. I could hear the muffled chanting of her voice as she went round the terracotta designer pot constructed in the middle of the yard facing the front entrance to the house by my dad. It was white, decorated with Hindu symbols of ‘Om’ flowers, sathiyas and so on.
I was dressed in my best chiffon sari, red. The sun was on the far horizon in hues of orange and red just above the blue Arabian Sea. I was gazing deeply into the eyes of my hero, the great bollywood hottie and hunky Salim Khan. He was reciting a poetry to me
This sari
A piece of cloth
Worth a lot
Long, flowing, soft
Exquisite, vibrant, elegant
Sophisticated style
Falling with grace
On your body
In the right places
Yet sexy, bewitching
Draping an art with hundreds of styles
Dazzling simplicity
But bedazzling on you
With jewels and gold embroidery
Ah! The beauty of Miss Universe to Miss India
Your beauty is to be praised my love
I felt all chilly and prickly at the thought as we came closer for a kiss when I cried out loud
‘Ouch! Ouch!’.
There was a sharp pain on my legs. I slumbered out of my dream into the real world to the sounds of sharp slaps on my legs as my blanket like chador was being pulled off me. No wonder I was feeling chilly!!
I jumped out and ran towards the toilet to escape any more whipping. I could hear her scolding following me into the loo
‘Don’t stay in there for hours. It’s a toilet and not a throne in a royal court.’
Since we had the new ‘English toilet’ installed everyone took longer than normal. I called it the throne since the loo was like a chair with a seat; more comfortable for doing the business than crouching down.
Bang-bang, mum again
‘Don’t forget your bath’s ready. Take it before the water runs out. Get your uniform on and come down for breakfast before your bus runs off without you.’
‘Yeah! Yeah! I replied
I hurried to the bath before the water ran off. We got water everyday for three hours in the morning and three in the evening when we had to feel up all the pots and water features outside to last us through the day and night. Water was a precious commodity round here.
So where is ‘round here?’ Well, round here is Mallepy a village of around 3000 people. We were about 7 miles from the main city of Mumbai situated on the coast of India facing the Arabian Sea.
Ding-ding-ding – Maya Kundalini Kriya Madhumati … my senses were slowly awakening. My ears coming alive to the sound of ding-ding-ding – Maya Kundalini Kriya Madhumati. My nose was beginning to inhale deeply the aromatic sandalwood fragrance of the incense wafting into my bedroom from the puja room. Suddenly my eyes burst opened – wide and panicky at the shrieking voice
‘Nidhi, wake up or I’ll come and whip your legs.’
This was the usual scene at 5 a.m. every morning in my household. I groaned and turned over for a few minutes more of nap sleep. It would be a while before mum found time to come and whip my legs as she would be busy watering and praying to the holiest of all Indian plants ‘the Tulsi’. I could hear the muffled chanting of her voice as she went round the terracotta designer pot constructed in the middle of the yard facing the front entrance to the house by my dad. It was white, decorated with Hindu symbols of ‘Om’ flowers, sathiyas and so on.
I was dressed in my best chiffon sari, red. The sun was on the far horizon in hues of orange and red just above the blue Arabian Sea. I was gazing deeply into the eyes of my hero, the great bollywood hottie and hunky Salim Khan. He was reciting a poetry to me
This sari
A piece of cloth
Worth a lot
Long, flowing, soft
Exquisite, vibrant, elegant
Sophisticated style
Falling with grace
On your body
In the right places
Yet sexy, bewitching
Draping an art with hundreds of styles
Dazzling simplicity
But bedazzling on you
With jewels and gold embroidery
Ah! The beauty of Miss Universe to Miss India
Your beauty is to be praised my love
I felt all chilly and prickly at the thought as we came closer for a kiss when I cried out loud
‘Ouch! Ouch!’.
There was a sharp pain on my legs. I slumbered out of my dream into the real world to the sounds of sharp slaps on my legs as my blanket like chador was being pulled off me. No wonder I was feeling chilly!!
I jumped out and ran towards the toilet to escape any more whipping. I could hear her scolding following me into the loo
‘Don’t stay in there for hours. It’s a toilet and not a throne in a royal court.’
Since we had the new ‘English toilet’ installed everyone took longer than normal. I called it the throne since the loo was like a chair with a seat; more comfortable for doing the business than crouching down.
Bang-bang, mum again
‘Don’t forget your bath’s ready. Take it before the water runs out. Get your uniform on and come down for breakfast before your bus runs off without you.’
‘Yeah! Yeah! I replied
I hurried to the bath before the water ran off. We got water everyday for three hours in the morning and three in the evening when we had to feel up all the pots and water features outside to last us through the day and night. Water was a precious commodity round here.
So where is ‘round here?’ Well, round here is Mallepy a village of around 3000 people. We were about 7 miles from the main city of Mumbai situated on the coast of India facing the Arabian Sea.
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