Faith.

Faith moves mountains and parts seas. One of the many clichéd statements we hear almost daily. Well, I believe in clichés now.

It started out as a normal day. Week day, so had to go out to work, earn my bread, make my directors happy and earn my accountants some profits. I got up late, (as usual) so rushed through the morning. Was finishing my shower and just slipping on my ring when it slipped through the drain.

Let me tell you a little about my ring first. It is a gold ring, with a moon stone set on it. It is a pretty old ring, not a ring of power or anything, but something that I associate with happy memories for a very long time. It was a ring that helped me get in to conversation with my first girl friend at college and all that. It has been with me through thick and thin fingers, so forms an eternal part of my life. This ring was made by my grandma and handed over to my mum; I saw it on the day of my eleventh birthday and immediately asked for it. Surprisingly, she agreed and gave it over.

As you can imagine, when I discovered it bouncing its way down the drain, I was terribly distraught. I dried myself out and then did what every 25 year old engineer does in such situations; I went to mom and said, ma the ring has gone down the drain.

Thoughts such as, it is just god’s way of telling me not to attach too much importance to material possessions were already coursing through my head. I was already imagining myself making a clean start with new confidence and leaving old ideas behind, embarking on a bold new journey with no ties to the past, fresh ideas and fresh thoughts equaling a fresh new life. When mom said, just stand in front of the family temple and pray. You will get back your ring. 25 years in this world has made me realize that when it comes to such matters, it is always better to listen to your elders and betters, so that is precisely what I did. I stood in front of our family deity and told him how much I like the ring and how much it means to me. I did not do anything as blasé as telling him that I would give up all my bad habits, fast for three days in a week and give alms to the poor. I just made a heartfelt request and did as all Indians generally do, left it in his hands.

I finished my breakfast and was preparing to go, when I saw my Mom taking out her favorite prayer book and reading a few choice stanzas. I gave her a hug and asked her, please mum, please get that back for me. She smiled in complete confidence and asked me to forget about it and get to work.

Work was hectic and was busy the whole day. The missing feeling on my finger was really bothering me and I was plagued by a phantom ring all day. I would look to feel for the stone to turn it around and around on my finger (one of my nervous tells) but it would not be there.

Lunch was not an afternoon affair, because I could not find time for it. So, by the time I got to it, it was already early evening. Then mom calls. She starts reciting lists:
One chiffon silk saree
One sweet perfume
One set dress material
One dinner at the fancy restaurant. Etc. etc.

Immediately I understood she had done it. She had gotten my ring back from the dead. She called plumbers, the cleaning lady; a whole team of impromptu ring rescuers and got the ring out for me. She then had it cleaned and sterilized, ready for me to wear.

The feeling of slipping the ring back on my finger is something that still lingers till date. Rationally, I know it’s just a ring and should not count for much, but in some matters ration can go take a hike.

Thanks Mum for a great gift. The ring and the Faith.