God as jealous lover

An interesting take on my relationship blues was recently offered by my dear assistant Lakshmi. Seeing as I was such a big devotee of Hanuman, and noticing that there was no sign of my husband (the second one) for several weeks, she ventured to say, "I have heard that strong devotees of Hanuman tend to have unhappy marriages."

She is far too young, enthusiastic and good-hearted to mean it as a piece of malice, so I did not bridle or turn defensive. Instead, I began thinking of several moments of epiphany I have experienced in the last decade and more, when it seemed as if God was intent that my attention should not wander from Him for an instant. In fact, when the most promising of relationship starts always turned to ashes, I would naturally turn to Him with more intensity.

Was that the plan all along?

After a while, I changed the way I prayed for someone to be truly intimate with. I would say, "Bring me yourself with a human face." After all, how can temples and stone or scrolls on rice paper actually take the place of another like us - warm, human, and imbued with life? I was seeking the Friend, like Rumi, or the God who lived nowhere and yet, everywhere.

And then I met with relationship success, or so it seemed. Marriage number one gave way to separation and divorce, then marriage number two to a man about whom every one of his friends and family had given up hope of ever getting married. Everyone thought getting married again was a bit excessive, to say the least. Why not continue as a single independent woman, discreetly continuing the relationship, they wondered.

I sometimes wonder the same thing. But in my heart, I know that getting married again was some more searching for the Friend - to find another kindred soul who would love and embrace and appreciate life like I do. Instead, I am faced with the same stubborn denial, the wilful and opinionated atheism, the shallow criticism of some of life's most beautiful moments and memories, that so repelled me the first time around. It has been weeks since we had any significant communication, and of these weeks, most have been spent with him choosing to stay in another town. While getting through the day focused on work and targets is still possible, the evening and nights bring me face to face with the gut-wrenching feel of rejection again. When I let the tears fall, it is, of course, in front of God, invoking His love even as I offer my utter surrender.    

Lakshmi's words made me wonder again about God as a jealous lover. Another take was offered by my mother-in-law, who can dispense occasional sage words even in the face of her enduring worldliness. "Finally only God decides how much satisfaction we are meant to obtain from another human being."  

Mars-Venus, yin-yang, its all the same

Have felt for some time now that relationships between male and female (girl-boy, man-woman, sister-brother, mother-son....and all other combinations) mostly boil down to the primeval yin-yang or Shiva-Shakti or dark-light nature of the whole universe.

Why?

Because men are forever seduced by death, darkness, wanting to return to that dark, brooding inert presence, the Absolute Void, that is Shiva. And women are forever drawn to the quicksilver, moving, changing, shapes and forms of life, that is Shakti.

And all our female lives, we have to stand on a slippery slope, trying to pull our men back when they would rather die of

climbing high walls or trees when they are little
driving their bikes and cars too fast when they are young
steadily sinking into a favourite killer chemical when they are older - cig, alcohol, or other stuff

Men love death, or at least, they woo it in a dozen ways while we have to sit and work and worry our way through life.

After the tsunami on December 26, 2004, the men were so shattered they took to drink in a big way. Why not? They had lost their homes and children, life had turned to water under one big wave. if the tsunami didn't get you, let the drink get you instead, they seemed to be thinking.

And the women collected scraps of cloth and food, accepted government handouts, went to work, and comforted the children...

It makes me mad that in addition to all this, they also have to still stand on that slippery slope and call to those silly men who are just getting up to reel through another drunken song and dance.

Are you still bothered enough to call and stand on your own slippery slope?