Swagata Banerjee
In response to a knock on the door, my eyes went towards Yasmeen-a lean, shy and introverted girl with a head-scarf; standing coyly behind her mother (my domestic help).It was for the first time that we exchanged smiles .Soon they were indoor and I found Yasmeen assisting her mom in calm and composed manner. Gradually she became a regular to my house and with her growing fondness towards our toddler, in no time she grew to be an important member of our family. There came a time when without Yasmeen’s helping hands, I couldn’t dream of any work.
Within a short span of few years, there arose the dire necessity for us to shift from the remote township to a Metro city many kilometers away. A deep sense of apprehension grew within me for neither the city was known to me nor was I accustomed to the city life. My nights became sleepless as I would ponder whom to ask for assistance. Sensing my fear, the young and generous Yasmeen offered to accompany me for the initial months .In the mean time,Yasmeen unfortunately had lost her abbu (father) and also had to arrange the care-take of her mom who was undergoing psychiatric treatment.
Relocation to the metro city took place and things were falling into place. Suddenly I realised that the holy month of Ramazan was to commence. Would Yasmeen keep her daily fast , crossed my mind. I enquired of her eagerness and she readily agreed in the affirmative. Then why was she holding herself from expressing her desire? Well, could be her inhibition was because we belonged to a Hindu Brahmin background. The next evening all arrangements were done; the first dawn of the holy month was eagerly awaited. Soon it arrived and I witnessed one of the finest moments .Yasmeen had seated herself on the prayer mat ,wearing fresh clothes; eyes closed and hands held high towards the benevolent heaven. She was offering her namaaz in my Puja room.
Within a few days we had to bid a tearful farewell to Yasmeen for her mom’s condition had worsened. I could feel her absence in all corners of the house and more so in my heart. Immediately after her departure I received an invitation from our temple for Spiritual initiation. This was a ceremony I longed for. Desperation knew no bounds and helplessness was at its peak! Arrived my God sent angel, Yasmeen, for exactly twenty four hours, to take care of my little one in my absence. She had travelled for miles, leaving her ailing mom for my religious course to be fulfilled.
I questioned myself, what is Spirituality? In the words of Tagore, ‘Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high….Where the world is not broken into fragments by narrow domestic walls…….Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert of dead habits….
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever widening thought and action…’
Therefore if we can weave a spiritual fabric within our hearts , design is bound to be divine.
