Prayer, a Twig, and a Goose Named Seema

“Of course I can bring spring,” said Prayer. Just a few minutes back, she’d come to the door, rang the bell in her proper way and as always was received by Seema solemnly, or so it seemed. It wasn’t that Seema had wanted Prayer in the house and he almost never invited her in, but because Seema’s mother was so welcoming, cooking this and that and being so warm that Prayer just stopped by on her way to here, there and everywhere. Outside it was cold and gray and had been for months now, and it seemed like winter was here to stay. Their coats had almost blended into their flesh by now.

“I’m here!” Prayer announced every time she stepped in, as if they had all been waiting for her. Seema always felt slightly intimidated in the presence of Prayer and perhaps even resented her. It had a lot to do with how his mother would treat Prayer and how suddenly Seema would become silly.

“You goose!” was what his mother would say to Seema when Prayer was around. “Why must you always be so clumsy – it’s only frying samosas. It’s not like I’m asking you to turn the world around…” and then, almost as if these words were on the tip of her tongue, and must fall out, she continued “… I bet Prayer can do that,” she said and lifting the half-fried, half-burned samosas from the kitchen counter, walked, no, breezed into the living room, as if in a hurry to get away from Seema and closer to Prayer.

“Tell him Prayer, tell Seema what you can do” Seema’s mother said as she put the tray down on the coffee table, and sat herself down on the sofa next to Prayer. Then she got up, handed Prayer a plate and offered her the samosas. Prayer picked one less burnt. Then she bit into the samosa, started chewing, hmmmming all the while. Seema’s mother smiled through all this, beside Prayer, watching her delightedly. Every once in a while she’d turn to Seema as if to say “look how wonderfully properly she does this”. And invariably Seema thought, “what’s so grand about chewing samosas anyway?’ and it seemed more and more ridiculous to him. But he continued to watch and participate in this scenario, determined to show his mother that it was her perception that made Prayer the solution to everything. So he let Prayer continue:

“I can do anything you want – all you have to do is be sincere in the request,” said Prayer raising a solemn yet completely thrilled face to Seema, eyes bright and excited.

“Like what?” Seema asked, ignoring the implication and wondering if Prayer would feel so excited if he said that all he wanted was for her to disappear and leave their family in peace, in reality.

“This is so fake,” he thought.

“I can make things real for people” said Prayer, as if reading his thoughts.

“Really?” Seema sat down across from Prayer. Mother was looking at Seema very annoyingly now. He ignored Mother and turned to face Prayer again.

That was when Seema asked her. “Tell me Prayer, can you bring spring?”

“Of course I can bring spring,” continued Prayer as if picking the line up from the beginning of the story. “Bring me a twig,” she said.

Mother jumped up and almost ran to the door. Not even thinking twice about how ridiculous that was, she opened the door and stepped out into the bitter wind. A few seconds later she returned, out of breath, carrying a limp, lifeless twig in her hand, cold to the bone - and still smiling. She handed the twig to Prayer.

Prayer was watching Seema, and started talking about being a kid – about walking into rooms in the dark and being afraid – all the time staring at Seema while Seema waited, waited for her to make spring.

He waited.

Payer continued, “…and in the darkness, I realized that I had to think something quickly. But it was hard, so the more I thought about light the more I missed it ..."

She took another bite of the samosa and properly and slowly chewed

Seema waited.

Mother watched and smiled nicely.

“...he jumped!” Prayer continued as if there had been no break at all.

“Who?” seema asked.

“The man!” Prayer said

“Which man?”

“Don’t interrupt!” said mother

“Shhhh…” said Prayer

Seema settled back on the couch.

“...goes up and down you see, quite like a see saw - those things you don’t understand in life.”

“Yes,” said mother, nodding her head wildly.

“Lovely,” said Prayer

Prayer took one last bite of the samosa, burped properly and as politely as she could, excused herself, got up and walked to the door. As if suddenly remembering something, she turned, looked at the twig on the table and said

“Take a look at that twig in the morning” and disappeared.