By Devraj Singh Kalsi
Just like attaining the eligible age to vote or marry, I am convinced that some individuals – awakened souls I mean – acquire the power to bless only after a certain age. Premature greying of hair lends the wrong impression that I have already reached the age to raise my hand to shower blessings like rose petals. Misled by the ageing process showing visible signs, a senior couple came home with their newly-wed son and daughter-in-law, directing them to touch my feet and seek blessings. I withdrew my pedicured feet before they could reach there and patted the padded shoulder of the bridegroom wearing a sherwani instead of placing my hand on his head. It must have appeared odd to the family that I had not shown the willingness to bless the newly-married couple in a proper, traditional manner. My heavy pat was an attempt to boost his morale and brace him up for the challenges ahead or it could be interpreted as a thumping appreciation that he had garlanded the right partner after a long wait since the pandemic.
My life has not been spiritually gifted or divinely blessed, so I do not wish to behave like a saint to transfer goodness or good wishes. Besides, I do not think my soothing words of blessings have any magical power to alter the destiny of an individual. If the guy drinks and drives and rams his car into a truck, my live-long blessings would have no meaning. If the fellow turns into a gambler, my tons of blessings cannot save his wealth.
When it comes to seeking blessings, I am always ready to receive. I have tried to build a reservoir of blessings over the years but these have not proved to be beneficial in terms of growth. Maybe those who blessed me were also spiritually weak or they did not possess the divine aura to bless. Or perhaps my fate was so overloaded with tragedies that most of those blessings had been utilised to neutralise dark episodes and ensure a smooth, steady life without any highs or lows. The stabilising influence of blessings has been the most convincing and comforting argument I can offer myself, to feel assured that blessings do have an impact if sourced well.
Forget the blessings of ordinary mortals, which come with a doubtful efficacy rate like vaccine shots. Focus on the blessings of the divine alone. My double standards are revealed when I ask other people to stop seeking blessings from me but always look eager to receive blessings from people all around me. The opportunity to seek blessings from mendicants when they receive foodgrains or currency is never lost. I go out of the way in my greed to collect blessings. My key objective behind every act of charity is to receive blessings and raise a buffer stock – fit to use during troubled times.
In the matter of seeking blessings from the Lord, I forget to make a list of what I want. Usually, it is long like a grocery list. I know the others praying are also seeking similar blessings from the Lord. Sometimes I feel I should rein in my greed to receive blessings and request the Lord to distribute my share among the other seekers. But this noble thought perishes soon. The fear of a dull, aching life without divine blessings returns to haunt me. The arrogance of having to survive without his blessings can only invite curse and misfortune.
There have been several instances where young people have come forward to seek my blessings. I give them a warm hug instead without explaining why I am incapable of giving blessings. A fanboy reader in my neighbourhood made the mistake of considering me a wise, well-read scholar and hoped to get blessed to write better – simply by touching my feet. I stepped back and asked him to write more and face rejections to improve his creative skills instead of pinning high hopes on a direct benefit transfer through his act of submissiveness.
Even if I proclaim myself as a sinner, those who associate me with goodness will never buy my story. I cannot tell them I do not think I have reached the fag-end of my life when all I can do is sit by the riverside and distribute blessings to the world. I think my life itself is a blessing and I must stay afloat and blessed forever to live it to the fullest.
A situation emerged when I was enraged and felt I must curse the chap with a bleak future as he tested the limits of my patience by challenging my faith in God. I said in anger that he would suffer horribly for offending me though I had been kind and helpful to him. I was confident that my curse would wreak havoc but within a few years he really prospered. Though we did not meet after that incident and I do not intend to bump into him again, I am sure he must be eager to tell me that my curse was nothing more than a fake mumbling of an overheated brain. It made me conclude that even though I had not tested my power to bless, the power to curse had been tested and it misfired. Sometimes I feel like writing a mythological tale based on curses but then I am reminded whether those curses would lack potency and weaken the plot instead.
Incurring the wrath of saints is never a good idea – a lesson acquired after a memorable encounter with a group of sadhus who came close to getting offended by my tendency to bargain with them. As their kohl-lined eyes grew wider to scare me and the tongue began lashing out invectives to scold me for monetary attachment in this transient world, I loosened my purse strings to bring them back from the verge of spewing fire and converted their harsh words into the nectar of admiration.
I have not cursed too many people, not even those who ditched me, ever since I realised my zero potential to curse effectively. Many people have been offended or snubbed without a valid reason and they have cursed me behind my back – quite effectively in my case at least. Whenever I accost them, they are so cheerful that I forget their tendency to curse.
Seeking blessings is reduced to a mere formality prevalent all around. There are many opportunists who fake it and come forward to seek blessings just to make you feel superior. The younger relatives who visit me to seek blessings are politely asked to identify the actual elders in the family and bow down before them. A septuagenarian wields more power to bless vis-à-vis a person who is flirting with middle-age. I prefer to seek blessings from elders even today and permanently occupy the slot of a recipient instead of becoming a donor of blessings.
Having realised that I am not the one empowered to bless or curse a person, I avoid getting into this trap now. No divine light emerges from my palm so I keep my hands clasped in prayer instead of raising it too often to bless like a godman popping up through the panoramic sunroof of his luxurious SUV.
Devraj Singh Kalsi works as a senior copywriter in Kolkata. His short stories and essays have been published in Deccan Herald, Tehelka, Kitaab, Earthen Lamp Journal, Assam Tribune, and The Statesman. Pal Motors is his first novel.
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