“Hail God” the chants continued unabated. The atmosphere was electrifying. The devotees were all in a trance. They were no particular hurry to get a peek at God. For most of them, waiting in the line was an integral part of the entire experience that reached its zenith with a fleeting glance at the deity.

I checked my watch. It had been two hours already in the line. I looked at my daughter. Trishna had been unusually silent for the past ten minutes. “Are you OK?” I asked her.

She nodded and started examining the steel bars that separated the various types of lines.

The temple was world famous and attracted countless visitors from all over the globe. There were many options for the darshan. You could pay 100 rupees for a rush-darshan or 1000 rupees for a super-rush-darshan. Most well-to-do families preferred a 5000 rupees donation-darshan. The common public, who could not afford those options, opted for the free Darshan line that took ages to get to the inner sanctum.

“Appa, water” Trishna said.

I retrieved her water bottle from the bag and gave it to her. The afternoon sun was blazing unabashedly. The free Darshan line was not air conditioned unlike its wealthier counterparts. It was stuffy, cramped and terribly claustrophobic. It was for this reason that my wife opted to wait outside. She hated closed environments, especially the ones with lots of people inside.

I looked around. People from all walks of life literally flocked together here. The man behind me smiled when our eyes met. “Gopalachari from Thindivanam.” He said.

“Siddharth” I said with a smile, “from Hyderabad. This is my daughter Trishna.”

“Very cute. How old is she?” he asked.

“Three. Trishna, say hello” I said.

She stared at Gopalachary for a full fifteen seconds before blurting out the sacred word “Hello”

Gopalachari apparently was all by himself in the line.

“Sir, you look quite well-to-do. What are you doing in this free Darshan line?” he asked me curiously.

I smiled. I get that question a lot. “I think everyone’s equal in God’s eyes. I am personally against the whole concept of paying for a better Darshan.”

“Do you think this is wrong?” He asked taking a notepad out.

“What is that for?” I asked him, slightly alarmed.

“I am a reporter for Pulse of India dot com – I sense a story here.” He said.

I shook my head. “I don’t think there is anything that interesting here.”

“That’s ok. Unless you don’t want to talk about your views, I will take the call whether your story is interesting or not.” Gopal was insistent.

I was silent. Gopal was staring at me intensely. Slowly the stare turned into a puzzled expression. “Say Siddharth, do you know of anyone called Tarun?”

I was jolted.

Do I know of anyone called Tarun? Sure, he had been the apple of our eyes in all the eighteen months he spent with us. He was a great kid, full of energy and downright mischievous. He had an inquisitive mind. He explored everything by opening it, thrashing it, tearing it apart. Didn’t I scold him a couple of times?

And then he left. Just like that. In a span of a week.

“Siddharth?” Gopal was looking at me with concern in his eyes, “Are you OK?”

I nodded.

“Tarun is your son, right?” Gopal said.

I nodded.

He did not speak for a minute. He put his notebook back into the bag. “I am truly sorry.”

“Yeah OK. All right. Things happen. Don’t they? Been four years. Life goes on.” I blurted out.

“Appa, balloon” Trishna interjected. She had just seen a balloon in the hands of a kid in one of those premium lines.

“I will buy you one after the Darshan. OK?” I told her.

“Time is the best healer.” Gopal offered his valuable opinion.

I leaned forward so that he could hear my voice clearly and loudly. “Listen, don’t believe in all those cliché sentences. They are absolutely fine as punch lines in movies or novels. Reality is quite different. Time does not heal anything. It just teaches you how to cope with the pain. The pain does not go away. You learn to just deal with it in a better way.”

He averted my intense gaze. I turned around and faced the sea of humanity in front of me. God was nowhere to be seen.

Where is the God? Where is he? What is our mistake? Why did he take Tarun away? What is wrong with him? What is wrong with us? There are so many bad people in this world, punish them. Why did you punish us? Losing a toddler son is the worst thing that can happen to anyone. It is the worst form of tragedy. What did we do to deserve such a punishment?

Questions, Questions, Questions and Questions – and absolutely no answers. People cannot empathize with us because they don’t know what it feels like. Those who have been there, know very well there is nothing anyone can say that alleviates the pain.

“I read about your story in Dinamalar.” Gopal said “Donating his organs is a noble deed. Hats off to you, Sir.”

I did not respond.

Donating the organs helped us cope with the tragedy. Tarun left the world really early but did a world of good to three other human beings who would thank him for the rest of their lives.

But that does not answer our question to God. Why us?

There was a bit of commotion ahead. The guard regulating the line was patiently trying to explain to a hapless free Darshan devotee that the premium lines had to be given priority and the free Darshan folks had to wait for some time.

“And we talk endlessly about divisions in our system.” I said to Gopal “This abode of God itself is discriminating people on the basis of their economic strength. Money rules everything, including God.”

Gopal shook his head. “Money rules this temple I agree but it doesn’t rule God. Make no mistake. This temple and the deity there are only channels designed by our ancestors to help you focus your concentration on God. This is a representation of the society we live in. That is how it has to be. Same as the world so that you feel right at home.”

“So God is pure?” I asked him scathingly.

“Yes. Very much.” He answered instantly.

“Why did he take Tarun away from us then?” I almost shouted.

“To understand that, you need to look at the world from a certain maturity level. You don’t have that. No human being has it.” Gopal answered.

The line started moving again. We were about to enter the inner sanctum. I looked at Gopal and asked him, “Should I have paid for the premium darshan then? God would have been OK with it?”

He laughed, “Of course. Look at it this way, you are paying the temple. The temple has a trust. That trust has a number of people friendly schemes that are funded by what you pay for the Darshan. In a way everyone who is walking in that line over there is contributing immensely to the welfare of the people in the neighborhood. Not everyone can pay for the Darshan I agree. But whoever can, should, if you ask me. Having said that, I don’t believe God discriminates anyone. All are equal – whether you pay or not.”

“Who are you?” I asked amazed. Gopal exhibited a level of understanding that was hard to come by.

He smiled, “I know. I read a lot of books.”

I smiled. Trishna was getting excited that we were about to catch a glimpse of God.

“When was Trishna born?” Gopal asked.

“Three years ago. A year after Tarun left the world.” I replied, “I think her arrival helped us a lot.”

“Do you have a picture of Tarun by any chance?” Gopal asked.

I thought hard. After his demise, we did not have the courage to even look at his photographs. So we kept everything hidden deep inside the closet. However I had his picture stored in an email I sent to a friend long ago.

I pulled out my phone and in a couple of minutes retrieved the picture. A wave of sadness engulfed me immediately.

He was such a cute kid. Oh God why?

“Pull yourself together Siddharth” Gopal tapped on my shoulder.

“I need closure. I don’t have it yet.” I mumbled.

“You will get it. Don’t worry.” Gopal said.

Trishna snatched the phone from my hand. She was fond of playing with the phone. “Give it back to me Trishna. Not now” I tried to take it away from her.

Her eyes grew large suddenly. She started laughing. “Appa Appa” She said.

“Yes Trishna. What is it?”

“Look, Appa and Trishna” she showed me the photo of Tarun sitting on my lap.

“Little Trishna” she added immediately.

Something hit me. Hit me very hard. Little Trishna! The words kept ringing in my ears. I fell onto my knees. The photograph in my cell phone was a revelation now. That was Trishna herself. I mean the kid in the photograph could very well be Trishna. She looked remarkably like Tarun.

She was Tarun!

He came back to us. He had been with us all this while, while we were grieving his demise.

“Hail God” the chants went up suddenly. I raised my head and saw God directly in front of me. I hugged Trishna tightly to chest and thanked God profusely.

“I think I got the closure I was looking for” I said.

There was no response. I turned around and faced a stranger. There was no sign of Gopal. He simply vanished.

“Where is Gopal? I mean the guy in the white kurta” I asked the other person.

“There was no one here sirji. You were the only guy in front of me in the line.” He responded.

I looked at God again. God works in mysterious ways!

“Hail God” I chanted.

“Hail God” everyone roared again.

The End.