Aparita Bhandari

I got decent grades and got my master’s degree. The nagging about marriage continued in fits and spurts. And I eventually found my calling as a writer. But the meditative exercise

did give me some time to reflect on my worries, and either have epiphanies or moments of clarity. Over the past few years, with a chance to live apart from my parents, I’ve come to appreciate their routines. Like my father’s sandhya pujas. The sounds of the slurp, taps, snaps, and small clangs have become reminders of home. I am also old enough to engage my parents in dialogue about their lives. I learned that the rituals that fascinated me as a child were actually a preparation for the act of meditation. “By sprinkling water around me, I am purifying the area in which I am about to meditate,” he told me. “The idea is that it creates a barrier for bad energy. But you can just think of it as creating a sacred space for yourself, away from the clatter in the kitchen, or the phone ringing.” He explained that a mantra is used as a means to focus the mind on the breath. The breath, he said, is the life force. And by using God’s name to contemplate the life force, a union between self and God is realised. “I get a lot of answers when I meditate,” he said. “From work to how to deal with my rebellious daughter.” Besides the relevance of religion, understanding my father’s take has made meditating and chanting God’s name relevant to me. — Beliefnet, concluded