“Why do you pray?” asked Swathi.
Swathi’s mother thought for a moment and said, “To talk to God.”
Swathi’s father was frowning ferociously at his laptop. He now frowned ferociously at Swathi. “Pray? To get good things, maybe? Yeah?” He scratched his head violently and said, “Okay, I’ve got work to do. Now go out and pray.”
Go out and pray?!
Swathi made a face and ran out into the garden. Old Chinnu mali was watering the flower beds. It was so hot he’d taken off his shirt and tied it around his head like a turban. Swathi asked him the same question. Chinnu mali unwound the turban from his head and began fanning his face with it. Finally, he soaked it in water and carefully wiped his face and body with the wet shirt.
He smiled at Swathi. “I don’t know about other people, but I don’t pray. I just tell God one thing.”
“What’s that?” Swathi asked impatiently. Chinnu mali was always different.
The old man retied his wet turban and said, “I tell him, Show me the magic.”
“Magic? What magic? Tell me, Chinnu mali!”
The old man laughed and picked up the water-hose. “Baby, this world is full of magic,” he said. “But you need special eyes to see it. That’s why I tell God, Show me the magic.” And Chinnu mali went back to watering the flower beds.
Now Swathi was intrigued. Full of magic? Could she have special eyes too? Chinnu mali would never make up things. He was a serious old man. Swathi said, “Please, dear God, please let me see the magic too!”
A demand
Walking far away from Chinnu mali, she leaned against the fat bushes at the edge of the garden, shut her eyes tightly and threw up her arms and yelled: “SHOW ME THE MAGIC!”
Nothing happened…
A crow screamed a reply at her. A bee almost stung her, angry at being disturbed. The sun was so hot! Her eyes seemed stuck together.
Suddenly she heard a strange sound. A gurgling, bubbling, juggling sound that tickled her ears. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see there was a way through the bushes. Without thinking, she rushed through the opening.
And there she saw the strangest sight. A river flowed outside her home, a pleasant, lazy, noisy river! “What’s a river doing on our street?” she thought.
And then, even as she stood there, she was frightened out of her wits by a nasty-looking crocodile with a large open snout. It looked at her and grinned a greeting as it sailed majestically down the river. “Oh my God, I must tell Chinnu mali! He was right!” thought Swathi.
She skipped back into the garden, and there stood Chinnu mali. But he was standing tall. And instead of his wrinkled, grubby shirt, he was wearing a clean bright red shirt and his eyes were laughing like an amused little child.
