5th Nov, 2016. The day after my birthday. I was out with some old college pals that evening, enjoying the weekend. Little did I know that my perspectives on life, maturity and prayer were to be drastically changed that night.
It was a long awaited college reunion, and we were all at our favorite haunt – an old, dilapidated coffee shop tucked away in a narrow alleyway in Koramangala. As the evening wore on, we planned to graduate from coffee and cake to dinner and dancing. But just as we were to leave the coffee house, I got a text from a friend asking me where I was. That was odd, cuz we hardly ever spoke to each other. I replied and she said she was at a place which was on my way home from Koramangala.
I don’t know why, but I just offered to leave right away, pick her up on the way and drop her home (we’re neighbors). My mates were puzzled that I had to leave early, but they kinda understood, I guess. In any case, I wasn’t feeling very social that evening. I got in my car, put on some Guns N’ Roses on the stereo, and revved away at a comfortable pace, watching the GPS for directions to my friend’s location. I picked my friend up on the way as promised and proceeded to drive home. It was hardly 8pm on a Saturday night, but I thought I’d retire early that night. The previous day had been tiring in any case. As I drove through the Saturday night Bangalore traffic, we indulged in small talk which, without warning, quickly transformed into a deep conversation about life, love, marriage and prayer.
The drive, although long, wasn’t nearly long enough to meaningfully finish our conversation. So, we decided to grab a cup of coffee. The conversation that followed was deep and illuminating. And as we spoke, it became apparent that my 23 year-old mind had way too much catching up to do in terms or maturity. I thought I knew everything – precisely because I knew so little. A lifetime of experience would mean little if it did not foster wisdom.
And that night was definitely a dose of wisdom. I learned so much – about how I was missing out on the big picture; how the world isn’t a hammock strung between two coconut trees with a sunset in the background; how I had to strive and push forward, kneel and pray.
Kneel and pray.
If there’s one thing I’d take away from that conversation that night, it was that I had to kneel and pray for another friend with whom I was struggling to make contact.
And I did. That night, for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-long, I knelt and prayed the most fervent prayer I’ve prayed in years. I prayed for God to work in my friend’s heart. Maybe God would work in my friend’s heart and bring him closer to Him. But one thing I do know – God definitely worked in my heart that night. And I know I’ll never see prayer the same way again.
The train of thoughts that night led to this poem:
It’s been a while since the sun went down…
I watched as the sky turned
from brilliant yellow
to scarlet crimson
to a dull glow.
And then as the glow faded away,
As the birds made their way back to their nests,
As darkness took over the land…
I watched.
A day had come to an end in a miraculous way.
I’d seen it a thousand times before,
But maybe when you’ve
experienced a miracle a thousand times,
you tend to take it for granted.
I watched
As the hustle and bustle of people died down,
As the moon discreetly proceeded
to dominate the night sky.
I listened as silence took over the land
in the same way sleep descends upon man.
And as my eyes adjusted to the darkness,
all I could see
were my hands fervently clasped in front of me.
My knees felt the cold hard floor.
And the rhythmic sound of my breathing
was a testament to the miracle of life I’d been blessed with!
Words were spoken in silence that night –
Words that only the Creator could hear.
A young man was down on his knees, communing with God.
Realm Of Wanderers 