A ceremonial oil bath is a must for me on Fridays.
I diligently go through the bath,, applying oil,
washing with Shikakai,
Drying my hair with sambrani powder smeared liberally.
over the red-hot cinders placed in a brass stand, I leave the hair free,
tie a knot at the end. Quickly string jasmine flowers, run them
between the strands.
To the melody of M.S Subbalakshmi’s Suprabhata,
I light the Diya’s, adorn the Goddesses and Gods with arali,
white lilies, manoranjitham, conch shaped blue flowers,
, Bilva and Tulsi leaves.
,
With diya in hand visit every room of the house
step down to the garden perform an elaborate aarathi
to Tulsi plant which is grown in the Northeastern part,
the Ishanya mulai a revered direction.
Back in the Puja, I sing slokas praising
Mahalakshmi, Saraswathi, Meenakshi,
Prostrates before the Goddesses
rise up smearing the forehead with Kumkum.
I no longer visit temples, which are governed by rules
a checking the portals, similar to the one
in airports, Constant monitoring, periodic
checking, turns repulsive.
My Puja room has become a 100 sq ft temple.
Prahalad replies to his father’s Hiranyakashipu, a demon
king’s command to stop praying to Lord Krishna.
“God is present in pillars and in dust”.
I believe in
Omnipresence, Omnipotence and Omniscience.
.
Meenas Poems 