Science And Religion

Last weekend, a few friends drove to the nearby Gurudwara. I am not Sikh, and I had never been to a Gurudwara before this, not even in India. It was a lovely, sunny morning, and we drove for about an hour through the picturesque roads before we reached there. Since I didn't have a dupatta of my own or a handkerchief large enough, I was given a piece of blue cloth from the basket of colorful ones to cover my head. 

I visit religious places more out of curiosity. I am curious about the visitors, the buildings, the architecture, and what people do there. Here, I was curious to see what a Gurudwara looked like. It felt that I was in India and not in the US. There were hundreds of people, children running around wearing traditional Indian clothes, dupatta-clad women, bangles and all, in their bright salwar kameez. Most men wore colored turbans, and there was something about the whole atmosphere that made me long to visit the Golden Temple. I had recently watched the movie Amu, and that came to mind too. It was soon time for the Langar to begin. We were famished and we queued up.

The food was delicious. There is something about the food cooked in God's house that makes it so delicious. We sat on the floor and ate with our hands. I couldn't have been happier to be there.

A man was going around distributing rotis for people who wanted a second helping. I lifted my palms the way the others did. The man flung a roti at me, and to my horror, it went past my outstretched palms and landed on my lap.

The man was livid. He gave me a nasty glance and muttered a flurry of things that, although incomprehensible to me, did not sound nice at all. For him, I had done something that was sacrilege. I joined my hands and bowed my head, wishing that he would not create a scene. God's house was the last place where this should have happened. 

The man left, giving me vile looks. On my way back, I kept thinking about this episode in silence. Religion says that I had done something terrible (according to the man at least). Science says that some molecules of carbohydrates had defied the laws of physics and landed wrongly, either because the neurotransmitters in my brain weren't prompt enough to stop the direction of gravitational motion, or because the man's motor units (hands) didn't act in co-ordination with my neurons for me to time the catch well. The man might as well have been a batsman, the food a cricket ball, I being the fielder. So I went for a catch and I dropped it. I instantly regretted it, and instead of answering back, I apologized. I wish the man had responded differently. 

sunshine