Free A World Within by Minakshi Chaudhry

separate hall for men. We used to meet in the morning in front of the small bakery where we had our breakfast. This was because Deepu and I had rebelled against the regular food; it was pizza and bread-jam for us.
    The three of us, Dadoo, Deepak and I, joked and talked lightly about the ‘owner’ of the ashram – the baba – while we munched our fast food. Dadoo laughed while Mamma was irritated. She ignored him but she was upset that Deepak and I were hand-in-glove with him. Mamma used to be in the temple the entire day waiting for baba’s darshan, while the three of us loitered in the complex and outside in the bazaar.
    Dadoo, a very gregarious person, was full of curiosity. He asked questions about the baba to everyone – other devotees, the staff at the ashram, the shopkeepers in the market and the local people – and tried to reason with them. Every evening we would happily tell Mamma all the negative things that we had discovered during the day. I remember that the locals did not believe in baba, some of them even proclaimed that he was a fake but they were happy with the business that baba was bringing to them. Mamma would be mad at us but we would always laugh it away.

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    Mamma used to perform puja every evening; she recited a few mantras and then sang different aartis dedicated to different gods. She narrated the divine powers of baba to us all every other day and would tell us how vibhuti, sindoor, dry fruits, toffees, diamond rings and letters materialized in the homes of devotees. She also spoke about the amrit (nectar) that appeared on the photos of baba. Dadoo would listen to all these stories with amusement. At times he would ridicule Mamma for her blind faith and unscientific viewpoints. Their arguments would always end with Dadoo saying, ‘Why doesn’t your baba give us a diamond ring?’ We children wanted toffees and chocolates. Mamma would look at us in disgust and say, ‘ Lalchi logon ko nahin milta hai [greedy people don’t get it].’
    Dadoo would perform puja on Diwali and ashtmiwithout fail. I think he did it for Mamma. He would sit with chandi (silver) coins in his hands, and say to Mamma, ‘I understand that money is important in life and it is very valuable, but it is not so important that we perform these rituals with all the tikkas, amrits and mantras. Yeh sara panditon ka khel hai [all this has been devised by the priests]. It is because they want money from others so they have made money a thing to be revered.’ At this moment Mamma would glare at him and he would perform all the rituals amusingly, laughing in between. It was fun time for us but not so much for Mamma.
    On Durga Ashtmi when small girls were called for the feast, Dadoo washed their feet, put tilak on their forehead and then gave them halwa, poori, boiled salted chana and money. Dadoo loved this, not because of the ritual but the affection he had for these small girls. But Mamma would often have to remind Dadoo to focus on the ritual, because he would always start chatting up with the girls – asking them their names and what they studied. Mamma was always in a hurry to finish the ritual, while Dadoo wanted lots of time to talk to the kids.
    On one such occasion he asked me, ‘You know why people make these girls goddesses and worship them?’
    ’No.’
    ‘It is their guilt that makes them do this.’
    I was surprised and blankly stared at him. He nodded vigorously and explained, ‘Our social system gives more importance to boys and so the so-called great religious men have invented this façade for a day to show that girls are also important. You will get to hear many religious explanations of this ritual but all those are rubbish. Our society discriminates against girls everyday and this one day is the token demonstration to hide the guilt.’
    I did not understand this since I was never discriminated against but he was so right.
    In the past few years Mamma goaded him to attend satsangs, kirtans and other