I call it a dialogue.
I call it meditation.
I call it selfless love.
I call it a trip.
A much-needed break from a material existence.

I chant. I offer flowers. And fruits. And sweets.
I light lamps.
I decorate You with sandalwood and kumkum.
I line up incense sticks.
I sing. I smile. I cry.
And then I stop: doing.
I start thinking of the people I love.
Of the people I don’t love.
I think of me. And then–
I stop thinking.
And I start being.

You call it worship.
I call it a trip. To a placid, silent and nameless place.
If I must name it, let me call it my me-time.
My best time.
My spiritual journey.
My pilgrimage.



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