I saw God…

The caste, religion or nativity of the person who saved her granddaughter’s life was immaterial. All that she knew was that she saw God in that man…

In the early 1970’s, a 3 year old girl accompanied her grandmother and a few other relatives to Guruvayoor temple. It wasn’t as crowded as it is now, but for the little girl who walked holding on to her grandmother’s hands, it was sheer terror to be jostled around by an enthusiastic crowd who thronged the place to get a darshan of the Lord. There was a Bhagavatham discourse going on in one of the temple halls above, and as the group made their way up the rickety wooden ladder, the grandmother suddenly lost her foothold and fell down a few steps. She lost her grip on the little girl’s hands and a small commotion followed, with relatives rushing to help the old lady who was wailing in pain. In the confusion that followed, the panic stricken girl disappeared.

It took a while to notice her disappearance and frantic relatives started searching all over the place. The grandmother was inconsolable and filled with dread over what might have happened to her granddaughter. What would she tell her daughter back home, who had entrusted the little girl in her care? The temple loudspeaker blared out the details of the small missing girl, requesting potential finders to bring her back. Minutes dragged into hours, but there was no sign of the small girl.

Just as everyone had almost given up hope, a shabbily dressed young man with shaved head appeared from nowhere in front of the grandmother, pulled forth the small girl who was holding on to his hands, and asked, “Is this your girl?” Tears of relief and happiness flowed down the eyes of the old lady and she sent up a prayer to Lord Guruvayurappan, as she hugged her little granddaughter. She looked up to thank the Good Samaritan, but surprisingly, he was nowhere in sight.

I was that girl, and my grandmother, to her dying day, believed that it was none other than Lord Guruvayurappan who brought me back safely. The caste, religion or nativity of the person who saved her granddaughter’s life was immaterial. All that she knew was that she saw God in that man…

Recently, I noticed a status message “I saw God” in the profile of one of my Gulf based friends. Curiosity led me to find out the reason behind it. This friend of mine had been a part of a group adventure trek to an unexplored part of Oman, a long and beautiful valley known as the Wadi Arbaeen. An epitome of pristine beauty, the day long strenuous trek involved walking through huge boulders and rocky areas, climbing treacherous cliffs, wading through crystal clear fresh water pools, and enduring a lot of hardships that stretched the endurance power of the trekkers. Ultimately it would reach a beautiful waterfall which was their destination.

Albeit the hardships, the enthusiastic group of 20 trekkers trudged along the rocky path, carefully maneuvering themselves through rough stones and huge boulders. But when they were trying to negotiate one of the treacherous climbs, a stone lodged on the cliff onto which one of the members of the group was holding on for support, dislodged itself and he lost his balance and went hurling down. Miraculously, an unknown hand suddenly caught hold of him and pulled him back to safety. That hand belonged to a middle aged Omani trekker, Mohammed, who happened to be present in the right place at the right time. A quick reflex on his part, along with a huge heart which transcended all borders of religion and nationality, resulted in a life being saved.

My friend, who is by and large the owner of a skeptical mind said, ‘I saw God in Mohammed that day.

I can’t but help agree with him. Haven’t we all met God sometime or the other in our lives? I certainly have…