BookVol 7: Faith, Fate, Worship

VOL 7: faith, fate, worship

What lies at the heart of the Kumbh? All things begin and end with faith and so does the Kumbh. If you trust in its workings, it will work for you.

Faith, Fate, Worship are parts in the sum of the whole. Cogs in the wheel, each of these stem from a belief that is beyond question. Scores of people dedicate themselves to the task of making shivlings, all in praise of Lord Bholenath. Their faith undeterred, their fate decided and their worship boundless. The head of a religious cult, a young disciple, a renowned saint, a sadhvi with a Doctorate in Psychology, devotees in the shivling camp, the Chief Administrator of Finance in the UN, and a follower of Tibetan Buddhism share their thoughts on the symbiotic relationship between faith and rituals, their belief in providence and their ways of worship.

Contents of faith, fate, worship

There I stood (Poetic Verse)
Nirbhayadas Kothariji (Insight)
Faith, Fate, Worship (Introduction)
Ane Pitane (Insight)
Kibbnesh Wolde Gabriel and Ane Pitanie (Interview)
Divine letterforms (Reflection)

Swami Bhagwatanandji Maharaj (Interview)
Drawing Faith (Character Story)
Relentless (Photo Story)
The ground they walk upon (Photo Story)
20.01.2013 (Diary Note)

Excerpts From The Book: Sadhvi Bhagawati Saraswatiji (insight)

Excerpts From The Book: There I stood (poetic verse)

There I stood, a wax tablet
waiting for an impress,
when the pink of morning
brought with it a simple man.
Unto the divine, he consecrated
the first fragments of sunlight hour.
Stilled, I was moved.
In the absence of garland,
holy smoke and song,
his actions spoke aloud
of a liberty he thrived on.
He couldn't see any of tomorrow
from where he stood on the bridge to pray,
just as he didn’t see me here,
from this point, yesterday.
I was isolated in his continuous present,
to perfect one moment in time,
when he started his day,
changing the rest of mine.
In the natural, he was just the milkman.
Cycle, can and measure.
In the spirit, a man of hope,
assured of unseen gold,
through the privilege of prayer.
Before he crossed over
to where the rest of the city lay,
he poured into Maa Ganga,
a milkman's measure of faith.