By Satish Aparajit
Like many children of my generation, my first introduction to Ram came not through television serials or politics but through Sanskrit shlokas recited every morning and evening. I understood little then, but the message was simple: truth, duty and humility.
I grew up in a staunchly nationalist household. RSS to be precise, Christened by none other than Guruji Golwalkar. Every morning and evening we prayed:-
Ramo Rajmani Sada vijayate
Ramam Rameshwar bhaje
Rame Nabhiyata Nisha charchamu Ramay tasmen maha. ———–
We would sing the entire shloka.
Ram Bhakt? Certainly. Andh Bhakt? Never.
Years later, as a young Air Force officer on temporary duty with an Army infantry battalion in the hills, I met Ram again.
The sentry greeted me with a thunderous “Ram Ram, Saab!”—a salute that seemed to rise from his boots rather than his throat. I instinctively returned it with equal gusto. That exchange generated more positive energy than any motivational seminar ever could.
The battalion temple was even more remarkable. No doors. No locks. Just a wooden donation box sitting quietly beside the Deity. Curious, I asked the Pandit-JCO how they prevented theft.
He smiled. “Yahan sab Ram ke bharose hota hai.”
That was faith. Trust was the security system.
Which brings me to modern Ayodhya.
Somewhere between devotion and development, Ram appears to have acquired chartered accountants, contractors and procurement committees. The Lord who happily spent 14 years in forests now seems surrounded by invoices, tenders and audit queries.
One almost imagines Ram trying to switch on the temple lights, accidentally turning off the CCTV instead. The faithful, ever alert to opportunity, decide that darkness is also a divine blessing.
Why worry over a few thousand crore rupees? Ram has always attracted gold, silver, diamonds and generous donations. The treasury remains full—even if faith occasionally appears overdrawn.
Poor Ram must be wondering what happened. During his original exile he enjoyed forests, rivers, birds and clean air. Today he gets traffic jams, leaking roofs, honking horns, dust and carbon emissions. Even after Pran Pratishtha, peace remains elusive.
I suspect he is quietly planning another vanvas.
Being black in colour, the idol might slip away unnoticed one moonless night. The drivers, guards, priests and cleaners may end up answering uncomfortable questions, while the real masterminds continue to prosper—and thank Ram for His blessings.
Perhaps the Lord is simply waiting for the coffers to empty before returning.
Until then, the message is obvious:
Bhag Ram Bhag!
Run, Lord Ram. The forests may no longer be what they were, but they still look more peaceful than the world created in your name.
Jai Shri Ram.
(The author is a retired Wing Commander and Shaurya Chakra awardee.)
