Showing posts from September, 2009

Question of Fate

He placed a mat on the floor and all of sudden grabed the candle by the window. The candle was put on top of the table beside the mat. He looked at her and grinned, “I’m going to do my prayer.” She stared away from the book she was reading with the go-ahead look. He was going to do his prayer in his own way, as he is a buddhis, and considered himself as a lousy one. Or maybe a good one, how can she be sure. No clue for this difference practice. The praying ritual begins with placing his forehead on the mat and then he sat on his legs. It is similar with sujud in moslem praying then istisqa. His small fingers were folded nicely on his lap and he closed his eyes. She continued to read the book, but couldn’t help noticing the notion. That night, as she watched him praying and she was reading Rumi’s poem silently, she felt like all the candles he lighted in the room were brighter than usual. She felt like there was a chanted music playing in the room, although he has already turned off his…