And God Came into Our Married Life

Vandana Dadel
 Dedication

I dedicate this book to my Late aunt Eileen Dadel, who, by her simple

and pious life influenced and inspired me most.

Contents
Prologue: Gathering courage to write

1: Childhood Influences

2: IIT and Friends

3: Sanjay-First Impressions

4: Career Decisions

5: Courtship and Marriage

6: Getting Along

7: Crisis and Joy

8: Ma’s Illness

9: The Turning Point

10: Career Frustrations

11: Following the Bible

12: Praying to Overcome

13: The Penultimate Miracle

Prologue

Gathering courage to write

“What else can we serve him along with fruits?” I asked Sanjay.
 “Don’t get so worked up. In all probability he might not turn up at all.”
Late one Sunday afternoon, we were waiting for Sanjay’s friend Arvind to arrive.
And I had genuine reasons for worry. Because, from what I had gathered from Sanjay’s
description of Arvind, the last time that he had met him, it appeared, we were not waiting
for the easy, laidback Arvind that we knew at IIT (Indian Institute of Technology), the
old Arvind (he joined the Railways a few years after IIT) whose house we loved to visit
because of the sumptuous pulav, mutton lunch he always treated us to. This was Arvind
in a completely new avtar, who not only wore mostly kurta pyjamas these days and
sported a light beard, but one who had given up smoking and drinking and non-
vegetarian food for good and strangely also tea and coffee alongwith, an Arvind who
inexplicably no longer kept a mobile or read the newspapers, who practised yoga and
supposedly meditated in all the free time he had.
I felt extremely anxious. “What on earth will we talk about!? I am sure we will
run out of topics and have awkward lapses.” I was worrying aloud again.
Arvind finally did come and stayed over for about an hour. Expectedly our
conversation did get a little strained at times but after he had left, I realized, “The meeting
had not been so unpleasant after all. The transformation in Arvind was definitely radical
but not altogether unexpected.”
For most of us, at some point of time begin to question ourselves, whether there
is indeed some spiritual journey that we were required to have undertaken by now. For
some of us, these questions seem to have been implanted all along, within us, possibly
with a timer; for some others, as in the case of Arvind, circumstances lead them to such a
juncture. So many of my IITian friends, in their mid thirties, seem to be going through
this phase of spiritual discovery, in their own ways, some of whom have taken to Art of
living, some have found solace in practicing Yoga, some are diligently living out the
latest self help guide, some of course have their family Gurus for guidance while still
some others running the rat race too furiously cannot risk the spiritual pause. Not many in
our friend circle however have managed to remain blissfully oblivious of the spiritual
bug.
Is life only about living it in a disciplined robotic manner so as to optimally utilize
all our abilities and discharge a bundle of responsibilities, without emotions, without
distractions? Or is someone else, a Higher being, in complete control of our lives? Where
are we headed to eventually at the end of life? Is there a purpose, a greater purpose
behind all that is happening with me and around me?
These thoughts and questions, which cannot exactly be termed spiritual stirrings,
suddenly seemed to invade my life too, inadvertently disturbing the placid life I was
enjoying, as a conscientious career woman and as a contented homemaker. Questions, to
which I was able to find my answers, over a period of time as in a treasure hunt, only
after I learned to be alert and attentive, to hear and discern what God was trying to say
all along, through the events in my life. In a nutshell I am here to share my personal
testimony.
In fact I had wanted to write ever since I had heard our pastor Reverend Dahanga
say in one his last sermons at the St.George’s Church in Jamshedpur which I attended,
“All of you can at least attempt to write small booklets sharing your experiences . ….”.
although I did not have any concrete experience to share then. But little events of the past
three years make me convinced, I do have something to say now. And here I am.
Lest the reader think otherwise, I am not here to attempt an intellectual defense of
my beliefs and convictions or make out a case for Christian belief for neither am I
qualified to do so nor does a religion which has withstood the test of time and relentless
virulent attacks and has been nurtured by the blood of countless martyrs need the help of
testimonies of novice practitioners like me. I am here to simply share my personal
account of experiencing the beauty and truth of the religion which I had been practising
all my life, unthinkingly, without seeking to experience any of the blessings of peace
and joy, it promises.
But having said this, experiencing something and trying to put it into words, I soon
realized are two altogether different games.
In my first attempt, the account ended up sounding just short of a bad
autobiography of disjoint, selective memories, generously garnished with Bible passages
as if to camouflage my writing inability. I began to realize, putting my life in order had
been far easier than trying to say how it all happened. Did God really want me to go
through this, to put things on record? Would it serve any purpose? Who would be
interested in reading about the life of another next door individual? Or does God want me
to write and then suffer brickbats for a reason? Or Was I trying to use the goodness and
mercy God had shown upon me to serve my own little literary ambitions?
 The self doubts seemed relentless and always real enough to hold me back. But
every time that I dithered, I realize, on hindsight, it was God who prodded me to carry on.
“A man’s heart plans his ways but the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9.
So often, in the past two years were I to experience this simple truth. I was still
worrying about my half written testimony while listening abstractedly to the sermon
during the 10:30 AM service on 21st October 2007 at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Ranchi, when I
heard the priest’s voice ring out loud and clear. “So remember the importance of praying
without ceasing. For your friends, for your family, for your loved ones, for the church, for
your state, for your country. … ..” “Isn’t my book also in similar lines? About praying
sincerely. I think the sermon is meant for me!!”
I also happened to read a passage today which I had underlined earlier in the
book, “The Purpose Driven Life” by Rick Warren which says. “You may feel you don’t
have anything to share, but that’s the Devil trying to keep you silent. You have a
storehouse of experiences that God wants to use to bring others into his family.”
And I choose to believe ‘tis not a mere coincidence.
I was now sure I wanted to complete my personal testimony. I wanted to share
with the world, how while Sanjay and I were still leading an egotistical life, God made
an inroad into our imperfect married life, into our spiritually impoverished lives and
brought peace to our troubled souls. Dear reader, my long sentences and dreary narrative
notwithstanding, I hope and pray I can still connect with you.

Chapter 1

Childhood Influences

My name is Vandana. My surname, though frequently misspelt (and in more

ingenious ways every time), is rightly spelt Dadel which I am told means a hound i.e. a
fighter dog. I am married to Sanjay I. Bara (Bara means a banyan tree) and as our
surnames reveal, both of us belong to the Oraon tribe of the Chotanagpur region of
Jharkhand, India. But my mother was a Santhal, from the village of Barheit in Santhal
Parganas region of Jharkhand and I think the rebellion streak in me comes from there.
Both of us have had an urban middle class upbringing.
In case the reader wonders why the superfluous details, let me elaborate why I
deem it useful for some. I was attending a coaching for Anthropology at Delhi, while
preparing for the Civil Services Exams, when one of the girls, who later made it to the
I.A.S.( Indian Administrative Service), on learning that I was a tribal hailing from
Jharkhand ( then Bihar ) asked me very seriously, “Which year did you move out from
the forests.” Taken aback by the sudden query, I thought she was pulling my legs until I
realized that for most metro born and brought up youngsters the word tribal still conjures
up only images of fig leaved people, residing in the forests and wielding bows and
arrows. I couldn’t satisfactorily explain to my colleague the dichotomy of my
incongruous urban existence.
Both Sanjay and I are Government servants now and since the title of the book
doesn’t leave scope for wrong guesses, yes you are right, God has just come into our
married life and altered our blemished lifestyle and I am trying to tell you the story about
how it all happened.
Let me begin first, by telling a little bit about myself and how I first met
Sanjay my husband. The reader must forgive me for dwelling too long on some
extraneous appendages, for it feels sacrilegious to edit any details of incidents that impact
and shape your character and which remain etched in your memory indelibly.
I am the youngest of three sisters. My sisters Sapna (Tigga) and Ratna (Tirkey)
are four and five years older than me. Both my sisters have always been more of friends
than the parenting type elder siblings. Ratna now teaches English in Bishop Westcott
Girls School, Ranchi and Sapna after completing her M.B.B.S from Rajendra Medical
College & Hospital (now RIMS) chose to settle down as homemaker, after marriage.
In our childhood we used to stay in the H.E.C. (Heavy Engineering Corporation)
colony, Ranchi. Our father worked in H.E.C. and my mother used to teach Physics in
Ranchi Women’s College which was in the heart of Rancho town.
A cosmopolitan colony like H.E.C. (as it was then) offered an ideal environment
for us, to automatically get educated about and develop a healthy respect for all religions.
But I also suspect that the undercurrent of competition (about religious adherence) that
prevailed, in the multi religious locality, contributed, in no mean measure to the display
of religious observance by all.
 In our CD type quarter which housed six families there was a very devout
Bengali Hindu and Sikh family and our immediate neighbors, the Kumar’s, who lived an
extremely austere and disciplined life were followers of Sri Ramakrishna. The Kumars
had prayer meetings every evening, when the neighbourhood got to hear beautiful
bhajans to the accompaniment of the harmonium and tabla. It may seem hard to believe
now but I recall how aunty wasn’t even permitted to put curtains on the windows, as
Kumar uncle considered that a needless extravaganza. Kumar uncle, was a gentle spirit
but his unsmiling countenance always made us children very scared of him. But as we
grew older Uncle inspired more reverence than awe. I later learnt that the youngest son of
the family after completing computer engineering from IIT BHU, later became a monk.
To my own memory sometimes, the Kumar family, leading such an inspiringly rigorous
and righteous life seems more a figment of my imagination.
We ourselves, by external standards at least, were a fairly religious Christian
family. Going to church every Sunday was a must for us as it is with most Christian
families in Ranchi. There was no church in H.E.C area, but Sunday service was held in
the Prabhat Tara School, about 3 km from our house. I remember how at times we would
reach the church exhausted, having walked in the scorching summer sun or cold winter
rain only to find ourselves the solitary family besides the Preacher for the church service.
Nothing could be more disappointing for us children.
As a child, I found the ceremony, on most occasions, long and stultifying and I
always resented why mother did not take us to the “big church”( St Paul’s Cathedral ) at
Ranchi which was always so much more crowded and lively by comparison. Church
attendance could have doubled up, as such a wonderful Sunday outing. But mother was
the strict type who did not appreciate or approve, even the customary socializing after
church and as soon as the service was over we would be marching back straight home. I
especially resented it when on some years we did not go to the big church even during
Christmas or Easter time but attended church service at Prabhat Tara School. But looking
back, I realize, with such poor commuting facilities those days and no four wheeler at
home, taking three daughters to church must not have been an enjoyable task indeed, for
mother.

Church apart, it was still my mother who had the deepest influence on me as far
as religious views and philosophy is concerned. Whenever I found Ma and my elder
sisters having any discussions, after reading books such as The Robe or Quo Vadis or
watching movies such as King of Kings, Benhur I would be all ears. I still remember
Ma’s comments after one such discussion, “Jesus was trying to change something more
fundamental, in this world and in our lives. He was trying to change our human nature.. .”
My young mind did not fully comprehend what was being debated but it sounded good
and inspiring, so I memorized it for future use, feeling smug with wisdom.
But I guess, as a child, one does not truly feel the need of God, as long as you
have loving parents around you taking care of all your needs. The only thing for which I
needed God’s help then and which I knew, for certain, was not in my parents command,
was for a more immediate and practical need.
Our quarter happened to be located at one end of the colony, beyond which there
were vast fields and further ahead, the Jagannathpur hill and temple. And after dusk, one
could hear the faint but distinct sound of drum beats and mandar from the foothills of the
Jagannathpur hill where the locals stayed. And it used to fill my mind with unknown
fears and feelings and images I could not express. And therefore, every night, found me
unfailingly, murmuring a small prayer with full sincerity, “O God Please, please send me
beautiful dreams tonight and keep all nightmares away.”
And believe me, without fail, on the days that I prayed before sleeping I would
journey through beautiful dreams and have a restful sleep. And on those that I did not, I
would have to endure nightmares about missing the school bus and my exams. And I look
back to realize, it was my first use of prayers, unwittingly, as a secret weapon.
But though Bible reading and prayers was a daily habit, God and religion
remained a peripheral aspect of my life as should rightly be in any normal childhood. But
for a minor incident at school, which first made me painfully aware of my religious
minority status. I could never bring myself to share the excruciating pain that I then
suffered, with my family members and I first made a mention about it, only in an article I
wrote, on religious sensitivity at the I.A.S. Academy.
Although our school, Sacred Heart Convent, was run by Catholic sisters, the
number of Christian students was negligible. I was the single Christian student in my
section, in the 3rd standard. One afternoon we were doing a Hindi lesson on
Shankarachrya and most of us who were feeling sleepy during the last class after lunch
break, were listening to our teacher with our heads half leaning on the desks while also
stealing occasional glances outside to see if the school buses had arrived. The class ended
like any other soporific last class of the afternoon.
Only, the next day I was in for a rude shock when my Hindi teacher, singled me
out for a severe scolding, insinuating that I had been sleeping through the lesson
deliberately because I was a Christian and wanted to intentionally display disinterest in
a chapter related to a different religion. To imagine that a defenseless 3rd std. student
could harbour such strong religious prejudices and have the audacity to express it, was
itself, not just an outrageous allegation but (on hindsight) some serious biases that my
teacher herself needed to deal with. But the incident then left a devastating impact on
my mind for a while although I was fortunate that the rest of the school for whom I was
always the “good girl” did not allow me to take the incident to heart.
But I make a conscious mention of it now, because as a society, we are today, as
never before, distrustful of each other. And the imperative need of the hour therefore is
for all of us to be more vigilant of such unlikely perpetrators of mischief, who
surreptitiously sow seeds of religious intolerance on tender, impressionable minds and
foment hatred. For these veiled enemies, inimical to peaceful co-existence are the ones
who clandestinely destroy our social harmony.
 Chapter 2

IIT and Friends

Barring the minor unpleasant incident I just mentioned, I think I can sum up
school life, as one long happy joyride of twelve years. After completing school with
flying colours and then my intermediate (twelfth) from St Xaviers College Ranchi, I
joined the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) Delhi, in the Computer Science
department, in the year 1989.
I always look back at the IIT years with mixed feelings. Academically those are
the darkest years of my life, for it was the first time that I experienced the fear of studies
and the trauma when learning ceases to be joyful and becomes a dead burden. At I.I.T.
the academic environment can seem quite hostile, in the sense that the respect and awe
that a professor evokes is very often (if not always) inversely proportional to how much
his students grasp in class.
And when I joined IIT, in the first week, I became a complete bundle of nerves
not only because the lectures were all going way over my head and I did not know which
books to read from, where to find those books, who to seek advice from; there being no
other girl in the whole hostel from computer science stream but also because I became
subject to some unfair, sadist ragging by a senior guy of my department who tried to
convince me that coming from the reservation category, I was a fool to believe, I could
complete my degree in computer science discipline .
Predicting a doomsday scenario for me he cautioned before leaving, “Mark my
words, you should change your department, take up Chemical Engineering or better still
Textiles or change your institute.”
But mercifully for me, friends and professors, did not allow the prophesy to
fruition, making me understand that to psyche (which in IIT lingo means to scare one
out of his wits) unsuspecting freshers was a freaky pastime of many a frustrated senior.
However, pitched against the best cerebral matter of the country I didn’t manage
to do well at all, in academics. And after having been a glorified school topper the sudden
fall from grace and the ignominy would have made my life an unmitigated disaster, but
for my friends and family who supported and encouraged me at every step and never
allowed me to give up.
My mother wrote to me every single day in the first year and made the rest of the
family do the same. I remember how once, to everyone’s envy, all of the only four letters
that arrived at Kailash hostel (girls hostel at I.I.T.) were addressed to me, letters from
Ma, Papa, Ratna and Sapna. The blue inland letters filled with my parents’ encouraging
words and Bible quotes were truly my lifeline then.
I.I.T. also remains the place that gave me the best set of friends for life. Friends
with whom there were no pretensions, no inhibitions and no proprieties. All that was
needed was unquestionable commitment, to say “yes” to an anda parantha treat at any
unearthly hour, or cycle to K.L.S. (canteen in the proximity of the Boys hostels) in the
dead of wintry nights to have coffee, or in the most desperate scenario even guzzle down
lukewarm geyser water tea…… Sitting on the convocation roof top on Diwali nights and
discussing Delhi’s pollution and your latest fantasization, the early morning enthralling
rounds of tea with the morning headlines, the night outs debugging computer programs,
the Rendezvous evenings, the lazy Saturday afternoons spent watching old Hindi movies
in the common room which our over suspecting warden wanted to disallow ….I have to
desist going down IIT’s memory lane, for the nostalgia of the carefree times spent with
friends literally makes my heart ache, to be able to just touch those times, once again.
My medley of friends included Mamta Rana - my artist friend, with the mellifluous voice
and munificent nature, whose room could always be found occupied by anyone other than
Mamta herself. Either by some wacky senior who found Mamta’s room better suited for
serious study or some juniors having come to share their melancholia. Mamta’s biggest
attribute, apart from her magical ability to soothe the most distressed individual by being
an easy unbiased listener was her flair for spontaneous tangent takes on all matters that
the rest of us understood only with a time lag.

Anshu Gambhir- the incorruptible perfectionist who couldn’t divorce good habits, even
if she tried to. So even if some latest juicy gossip would have kept us all awake till 2.o
clock in the night, at dot six in the next morning while Deepa and I would still be trying
to toddle down with our steel glasses for Mohansingh’s( our mess caretaker ) tea you
could meet Anshu in the corridor with her bucket or books. But she was our trustworthy
mentor whenever one needed sane advice on any matter.

Gargi Maheshwari- the spirited persona, who was able to pack a whole lifetime by the
time we had spent a single lazy uneventful day. She would have partied the evening with
some friend, then completed her assignments, then been agony aunt to some nervous
junior before huddling up with us to catch up with our slow lives. We always envied
Gargi for her infinite energy and we knew only she could be depended upon to recoup us
from any sticky situation.

Deepa Agarwal my best friend, complicated but unpretentious, who transformed

overnight from an unsure, diffident Lucknow Girl into a self assured, vivacious
personality who didn’t think twice before calling a spade a spade. She was at her best
when required to prove somebody wrong. So she joined IIT when her coaching fellow
mates thought her incapable of competing, picked up a job soon after IIT when her
parents wanted her to get married and settled and then gave up a good career to settle
down contentedly as a homemaker when Sushi ( her husband) wanted her to become
more career oriented. It is difficult for me to describe her objectively for we are too much
alike in many ways. I think we initially hit it out because of our mutual love for making
endless analysis of people and situations and later remained stuck together because of our
complete acceptance of each other as we are. We know each others imperfections and
weaknesses so well that quite often when we need a mirror view of ourselves we seek the
other’s advice.

Richa Nigam our senior and a late entry into the group, who is now way ahead on the
path of spirituality. But it is Richa who being stationed at Delhi, plays the pivotal role in
keeping us posted about each other.

But although I had my friends, who in the true sense of the word multiplied my
joys and dispelled all anxieties away, friends with whom I could down a cup of tea and
with it my pensive mood any hour of the day I would still wait eagerly for Sundays to
arrive. For Free Church at Green Park, Aurobindo Place still remained the solitary place
where I could completely unburden myself, where I could find true solace and where I
could rejuvenate my soul. Without realizing, I had started memorizing the verses from
the Bible that Mother used to quote in her frequent and regular letters to me, to encourage
me. I especially remember one of Ma’ letters in which she wrote at the end, “Recite this
verse whenever you feel afraid.”
Wait on the Lord,
Be of good courage,
And he shall strengthen your heart;
Wait I say on the Lord! Psalm 27:14

I think although in my personal day to day life, God hardly figured anywhere,
religion always remained the infinite safety reservoir in the backdrop from where I
sourced all the inner strength I needed.

IIT years was also the period when one had discussions and heated debates on
practically every subject under the sun. After one such open house discussion on religion
I realized, Deepa had suddenly stopped speaking to me. I was perplexed and completely
at sea about what must have led to this. On persistent probing however, Deepa finally
unburdened what was bothering her. My views on religion had somehow conveyed the
impression to Deepa that her being a non Christian was a factor I resented. But
thankfully, an honest heart to heart talk removed all misunderstandings, preserving our
friendship. But it was later when Deepa herself became a strong practicing Hindu that
we not only developed a healthy respect for each other’s beliefs and convictions but it
was Deepa who best understood why if I proclaimed myself a believer of Christian faith
I could never simultaneously concede that what others believed and practiced might also
be “ the correct way.”
But that did not imply my feelings for her depended on her religion. I did not love
her any less for being a non Christian. The essence of Christian religion is love, love for
God and love for all fellow beings [and not selective Christian beings].
When Jesus says, (Mark 12:30-31) “And you shall love your God with all your
heart, with all your soul and all your mind and with all your strength. This is the first
commandment. And the second like it is this “you shall love your neighbour as yourself.
there is no other commandment greater than these,” it may sound deceptively easy to
some, but the moment you start practicing it or attempting to live it out; Paul elaborates
about it in 1 Corinthians 13 where he teaches us about love being the greatest gift, self
doubts begin to arise. How much of my apparent love for family members is true love
and not born out of a cultured sense of duty, an ingrained sense of propriety and
righteousness. I think the more you understand your religion the simpler it sounds but the
moment you start practicing it, it seems to remain just out of reach.
The whole argument with my friends at I.I.T., had been about belief and
knowledge and all of us were wiser for the discussions to the extent that we understood
each other far better than before. (Though none of us, I guess, had any appreciation of the
whole abyss that lies between belief and insight and knowledge.)
And that is why my closest friend Deepa could at once understand why I
would not consider marrying a guy like Sanjay who apparently had very different views.
But I am jumping the gun again. Let me first introduce Sanjay the way I came to
know him.
 Chapter 3

Sanjay-First Impressions

When I first joined IIT Delhi, it was hardly amusing to discover that in many
ways it was as prudish, as my former college, St.Xavier’s college at Ranchi, where we
had separate staircases for the boys and girls, the girls were expected to sit in a particular
side in the classroom and the college canteen was kept out of bounds for the girls.
At IIT Delhi too, even healthy interface between the guys and girls was not
exactly encouraged. Not only was the girls hostel located far away from the boys hostel,
to discourage needless interaction, but in a department where there were usually just
one or two girls in a class of forty, talking to any girl meant making oneself a talking
point, an undesirable consequence, which understandably no decent geek wanted to risk.
So even some of my old H.E.C. acquaintances preferred to keep a safe (and quiet)
distance within I.I.T. campus and did not graduate into becoming good friends.
But I liked that Sanjay had no such qualms. Sanjay was from Ranchi and at I.I.T.
he was two batches my senior. I went to meet him along with my father when I joined
I.I.T. and I appreciated that he spoke at length with my father and also to me, patiently
elaborating survival strategies (perfected over the years) at I.I.T. I remember telling my
sisters later, “he’s got the typical tribal handsome looks; tall, dark, good skin, athletic
build and he talks in an engaging manner.”
But after the first meeting we hardly interacted at I.I.T. Though after the first
minors (exams) he did call up once to find out how I was faring and when I told him I
had got a C and B grade and even some D’s he laughed and said, “You will pull
through.”
While traveling to Delhi and back, I made a no of journey friends and
acquaintances, much to my parent’s consternation. Mainly guys and girls from AIIMS,
Lady Harding Medical College, JNU and others. The Hatia Amritsar or Neelachal train
then used to take a good one and half day to reach Delhi. And so by the end of the
unending journey you would have shared your entire life story with your co-passengers
and made a good friend for life. Some of the train acquaintances I made are still good
friends. But fortunately or unfortunately the institute opened on separate dates for
different batches so that I never traveled with Sanjay together, except once. And then
again he was on a different coach so that we did not get to talk during the journey. But
when we alighted, Sanjay helped carry one of my heavy suitcases (rare display of
gallantry by an IITian) and treated me to a soft drink. And then all of a sudden, staring at
the tiny, almost unnoticeable cross, I was wearing around my neck, he suddenly said,
“why do you need to show it?”
The unsolicited comment completely took me by surprise. What an unforgivable
thing to say and how rude!, I thought. How can a guy who does not know me well, make
such a personal comment and on such a deeply personal (and pricky) matter? I could not
think of a fitting reply because I was hurrying to join others in another auto rickshaw, but
I remembered his thoughtless, uncalled for remark always.
And so, when Deepa and I, in the 4th year, endlessly discussed love and marriage
and who could be a suitable boy, I remember saying, “Look there’s only one guy of my
community from Ranchi at I.I.T. that I know of but I don’t think I can even consider
him. “You know how touchy I am about religious issues and if a guy does not have
reverence for my religious sentiments how can I think of sharing my life with him.” That
extinguished further scope for discussion on Sanjay and with it also hopes of finding a
suitable match soon.
But well, besides marriage, there were other far more important decisions, to be
taken in the final year. Decisions with regard to available career options. Decisions that
would make our paths cross again.
 Chapter 4

Career decisions

I recently met one of my friends from I.I.T. who had decided to settle in the U.S.
but after having worked there for about ten years is now seriously contemplating a return.
And it surprised me when she remarked, that she didn’t know what made her decide to go
to the U.S. in the first place. “In the final year at I.I.T. when half the batch is planning to
go abroad you join the bandwagon without thinking twice. Not that it was a wrong
decision but I don’t think I ever applied my own mind seriously whether it was the best
decision for me or not,” she said.
And I used to think only my career had been decided on a default! If you were
not on the U.S. or M.B.A. list you were automatically on the third list (not necessarily in
that order of preference) of Civil Service aspirants. And if you hailed from Bihar or U.P
your name in the third list, which in that case happened to be most coveted, was more a
rule than exception. And I was no exception.
Who had the time or inclination to delve deeper and encounter irrelevant
questions such as, “What do I really want to do in life?” Of course for the world and even
for my subliminal self, I had a little more righteous justification. I did not wish to go
abroad because I felt being around for my parents when they needed me was extremely
important for me and for this I needed to remain in India. I knew this was an
unprogressive way of thinking but remaining in India for my parents, sanctimonious as it
may sound, was very important for me.
Admittedly, it has been uppermost in my mind always, that everything that I am; I
owe it to my father and mother.
For its not every mother who stays awake, nights together, with her daughter,
solving together Agarwal papers (correspondence coaching course) for I.I.T. J.E.E., or
sacrifices her own social life to create the perfect dull ambience at home best suited for
serious civil services preparation and then when her daughter becomes an I.A.S. officer
still needs to dictate to her points for her first speeches. I remember when I was new to
the service, getting annoyed at my needless lack of confidence she admonished, “Why
don’t you keep Mrs. Rabri Devi in mind? She does not have the support of the kind of
education you have had … and yet now when she is the Chief Minister, look how
courageously and with dignity she discharges her duties. Can your anxieties ever match
the fears that she must have first faced. …..? ” And when as I.A.S. probationers we went
to call on the then Chief Minister of Bihar, Hon’ble Mrs. Rabri Devi, I got proof of my
mother’s words. And I never felt afraid again, working in an area, still largely a man’s
world.
And also, its not every father, I believe, who lovingly cooks, delightful (albeit
hurried) meals, during his own short lunch break from office, for his daughters at school,
everyday, unfailingly, for sixteen years of his life, and who would be ready always to
take out his scooter, any hour of the day or night, to fulfill his daughters’ smallest fancy.
Sadly none of us inherited our father’s adventurous spirit (which sometimes made him do
impulsive things like traveling to Dumka from Ranchi [more than 300 km], alone on his
scooter without breaking the journey once) or his simple nature that allows him to
befriend my colleagues as well as my peons and drivers with the same ease and warmth.
But I still don’t have answers as to why I wanted Civil services as a career. None
in my family or close relatives belonged to the civil service to be an inspiration factor.
Nor did friends suggest the civil services for me, perhaps because being thin enough to
have earned the title of drumstick at school I couldn’t have been further from the officer
like personality. I remember even while at I.I.T., I was extremely conscious about being
too thin, and I used to joke whenever I wore a sari, that the blouse fitted me like a tea
cosy set.
But nonetheless, notwithstanding my non typical personality, Civil Services was
my definite first choice. To be truthful, I think I had made up my mind, already, much
earlier, when as a young student, I was constrained to wait outside the Deputy
Commissioner’s office once, for a good half a day to collect my caste certificate. I had
absolutely vague ideas then about what other important things a D.C. did besides issuing
the all important Caste Certificates but there was no mistaking the power the D.C.’s
office emanated. And I knew I wanted to be in that hot seat some day.
 Having decided then, after I.I.T., to take the Civil Services examinations I
returned home to Ranchi to prepare for the examinations. Our house at Bariatu, actually
gadi gaon, on the outskirts of Ranchi town where we now resided (although the house
was built much earlier we shifted in 1986 when grandma fell ill) hidden amidst an acre of
unkempt garden full of overgrown shrubs and untended trees was almost like being in the
wilds. But the ashram like quiet also made it quite the ideal getaway for serious study.
I cleared the preliminary exam with Physics as my subject and studied hard for
the Mains examinations (with Physics and Anthropology as subjects). But having no
inkling about strategy I did not realize my preparation was all wrong. For a five marks
question on Culture, in General studies Paper I was reading a big fat book on Indian Art
and Culture.
I did not clear the Mains examinations and when the results came out, the sudden
dead end, woke me up from my complacency. My mind was suddenly filled with doubts
and fears. Was my choice of subjects a mistake, or was my preparation insufficient…..
Where did I go wrong?, I was clueless.
And all of a sudden Ma who had always been my biggest support seemed to lose
all confidence in me. She felt afraid I would end up wasting a couple of years taking the
examination and at the end of it if I still did not qualify I would by then have made
myself unsuitable for any computer engineering job either. The IT boom was still a few
years away. And therefore, Ma started urging me take up some (i.e. any ) job at the
earliest before taking the exam again, which became a bigger setback for me to handle
for I did not want to give up my dream so easily.
But I was having second thoughts myself. Did common sense suggest, I must take
up a job first and then pursue my I.A.S. dream….I was in a dilemma. I was miserably
confused and needed help desperately at this crossroad, someone to pull me out of my
predicament, someone to help me take decisions.

I remember spending many an afternoon sitting on the roof of the house, staring
vacantly at the vast fields beyond and recalling childhood memories to drive anxieties
away. The happy vacations that we spent at Bariatu home when my grandparents and so
many uncles and aunts stayed in the same house, how as a little girl I used to help my
grandmother feed the hens, pluck sanai flowers …..,.how we three sisters learnt to ride
our uncle’s bicycle in the open fields, how my uncles went fishing to the nearby fields in
the rainy season and how grandpa used to play sad tunes on the violin in the evenings
…... memories of lazy idyllic days when time seemed to pass so slowly .
And having failed the mains exams, time once again seemed to be standing still,
brooding over me. But in reality it was running out for me and I knew dithering or
indulging in escapism was not going to change what lay in store for me. I had to face the
present, be resolute and decide things for the future. But I badly needed someone to
discuss things out with and share my anxieties.
During the daytime Ma would leave early for college and Papa (having retired) to
visit one of his innumerable friends. Both my sisters were happily married and blissfully
absorbed in their own new families and having lost all contact with school and college
friends I became lonelier than ever.
Perforce I returned to prayer for comfort and for guidance. And the Bible became
my sole companion yet again.
And out of the blue, suddenly, one evening I received a call from Sanjay.
He spoke briefly, mainly expressing his concern as to why had I not cleared the
examinations. But, he added, he would come over sometime to speak to me in case I
needed any help.
I couldn’t contain my excitement.
A serious Civil Services aspirant generally knows all recent successful candidates
from his/her town, for finding out their latest success mantra forms an essential
component of exam preparation, especially the interview. So I knew Sanjay had cleared
the exams because I had seen his name in the newspaper list but I did not know which
department he had been allotted. We had not been in touch at all after that disastrous
exchange on the New Delhi Railway station. I wondered where he had got my phone no.
from.
Feeling extremely flattered that a qualified candidate had bothered to call up at
all, I couldn’t stop gushing to my mother, “I have spoken to Sanjay just once or twice in
the entire I.I.T. period and I have not had any contact with him in the last four years but
he still does keep track of me!.” I was not prepared to allow the memory of the
unsolicited cross comment to dampen my enthusiasm.
Sanjay came over and decided almost everything for me. Physics was out and
Geography was in. How was I supposed to prepare for an entirely new subject in just four
months and expect to qualify when I had failed to qualify with subjects I had been
preparing for two years? Sanjay put it very plainly, “Pack your bags and go to Delhi. You
cannot sit here in gadi gaon and expect to qualify. Take all my Geography books and
Geography notes. Join a coaching for Anthropology for the new syllabus that has been
added. Do the best you can in the time you have.”
Taking his advice, I took prelims exams with Physics in Ranchi and after clearing
the prelims, left for Delhi to prepare for the Mains exams with Geography and
Anthropology as subjects. I stayed at my friend Mamta’s place, in a small flat which they
had taken on rent in Lajpat Nagar area, leaving their sprawling house in Dehradun , when
both Mamta and her younger brother started working in Delhi. I shall always remain
indebted to Mamta’s family for the love and warmth they showered on me. I later shifted
to Aruna aunt’s place in Kingsway Camp area.
And I think it was in Delhi, going through Sanjay’s laboriously prepared
handwritten notes daily and recalling how authoritatively yet caringly he had spoken to
me that I realized I was beginning to fall in love with him. But there was no phone call
from him, none at all, all the while I was in Delhi and I felt despondent even as I studied
hard for my exams. But I could not and did not allow those emotions to seriously distract
or detract me during my preparation. For I knew if I failed to qualify, a second time, Ma
would put a full stop to my I.A.S. aspirations.
At times I did feel very lonely and homesick and afraid about the uncertain future
but the Bible continued to remain my anchor and solution for everything. I remember
every morning when I needed to open my eyes before everyone else I would mumble
religiously the following proverb half in sleep,
“Go to the ant you sluggard
Consider her ways and be wise
Which having no captain overseer or ruler
Provides her supplies in the summer.
And gathers her food in the harvest
How long will you slumber, O sluggard?
When will you rise from your sleep
A little sleep, a little slumber
So shall your poverty come on you like a prowler
And your need like an armed man.”
 And every evening when I returned from my Anthropology coaching, boarding
the last bus from near Bikaji Cama Place I would whisper to myself some Psalm just
to feel protected.
Usually Psalm 121 :8
“The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth and even forevermore.”

I now realize I used the Bible and prayers inanely, every time I was lonely or
afraid or dejected. And every time I got the relief I sought for. But God and prayers were
banished, the instance I got the respite I was seeking. I do not remember ever praying
sincerely, in the intervening long happy periods or thanking God for his innumerable
blessings in my life.

Exams over, I was now back in Ranchi and eagerly waiting for Christmas to
arrive when I could meet my sisters, family friends and relatives and attend weddings and
engagements spread over the entire festive season. I thought quite often about Sanjay but
there was no way I could contact him and I felt disappointed and angry that having joined
his academy he had forgotten all about me. I thought it was best to consider it a closed
chapter and move on.

Chapter 5

Courtship and Marriage

The evening of 20th December, 1995 was going to change things for ever for me.
Mother and I were out shopping for Christmas. We were walking hurriedly to the
auto stand near Firayalal Chowk so that we didn’t miss the last auto home. We had just
crossed Sarjana chowk when Ma said, “It was Sanjay wasn’t it?.”
 “I didn’t notice,” I replied.
Ma said, “Yes It was. Why don’t you go back and say Hello, He had helped you
so much.”
I turned and spotted Sanjay in the crowded main road, some distance behind,
crossing the road with his good friend Ranjit (who is no more now). Apparently he had
not seen or noticed us. I walked back, unthinkingly, stopped him and said, “Hi,” “When
did you come to Ranchi, Where have you joined?”
Nothing could have prepared me for what he said next.
“My selection has been cancelled,” said Sanjay. “………..My whole world has turned
upside down. I had sent in my resignation for my previous year’s selection in the Civil
Services and the rules regarding last date for submission of resignation were changed just
this year and my resignation for previous year’s selection has been accepted along with
cancellation of my present year’s qualification on the same grounds. It is technically
wrong, they can’t do this…. but that is what has happened. I am disqualified. I am
nowhere. I might have to fight a court case. I have just got this news. I do not know what
to do. I am going across to have coffee now, to Madras Coffee house.”
“But forget about me. How were your mains? How was Geography?”
I did not know what to reply. Here was a guy who had just received the worst
possible career news of his life and he was still sane and courteous enough to remember
and show concern about my exam papers. I wanted to hold his hand, comfort him
somehow. How I wished we were not standing on the busy main road with Mother
waiting for me to hurry back. I think I begged him almost, “Sanjay Please, come over to
my place, tomorrow. We can sit and at least talk, discuss things out, I am sure you will
feel better if you speak to someone. Do come over. I am at home almost all day.”
I could not sleep the whole night, hoping and praying that Sanjay would come
over the next day. There was no phone at his house and I did not even know where he
lived. But all clouds of doubt disappeared and I truly hailed a smiling sun and singing sky
when I saw Sanjay’s face at the gate early next morning. We sat for a long time together
discussing his case and what he could do about it. We talked about I.I.T., common friends
and how life had been for both of us after I.I.T.
And that night my prayer of thanks to God, for sending back Sanjay in my life
was for the first time sincere, as can be.
 Sanjay came over regularly the next few days. I think, just being away from his
own house and anxious parents and sharing his thoughts over cups of tea, with a patient,
non judgemental listener was comforting to him. And that was also what led him to make
the mistake of believing I was a perfectly balanced, sensible person who could make an
ideal life partner. But I on the other hand, truly believed, my meeting him again was no
chance coincidence. It was undoubtedly divine providence, my Christmas gift from God.
I felt completely sure, this was the man I wanted to spend my entire life with, whether he
made it to the Civil Services again or not.
Divine order or not, by the end of about a month’s time we had said “Yes” to
each other.
The following months, predictably, were the most beautiful time of our lives that
we spent together in Ranchi.
Looking back, there were hardly any places in Ranchi then, where a young couple
could spend time undisturbed and not look utterly discreditable. Neither did we have the
money to spend on good restaurants. Therefore most of the time, we were either taking
long walks alongside the Ranchi Lake oblivious to any olfactory discomforts or having
tea in small roadside restaurants. And of course, talking as much as we could, to unravel
more about each other. Our future in the Civil services was uncertain, but we had each
other for company and that was all that mattered.
And many married years later when we silently walked together, once again,
alongside the scenic Zurich Lake I wished I could go back in time and recapture just a
little bit of the passion we then felt for each other.
But the issue of religious belief was still gnawing at the back of my mind and
finally we did have our little discussion about how strongly we felt about our religious
beliefs and how much it mattered to us individually.
Sanjay was a Roman Catholic by birth, but confirming my worst apprehensions,
not only was he a non church goer but a complete atheist !
Undeniably I loved him and wanted to marry him. But how I wished, we were
identical in matters of faith After several fruitless discussions, which did not lead to any
common ground, I realized I had to put the matter of religion on the backburner and
reconcile to the fact that Sanjay was not a believer of Christian faith or any faith for that
matter.
 I thought we had both put the matter to rest for good and resolved to move on.
But to my utter disbelief, I saw Sanjay arriving one day to Firayalal Chowk armed with a
big Bible to prove some point. I don’t remember the sequence of arguments we had but I
do recollect retorting angrily, “Even the devil can quote the Bible for his purpose.” Our
discussions would sometimes upset me greatly, not because contrary to my expectations,
Sanjay was a complete atheist but because of his over zealous defense of Darwinian
theories.
Sanjay was never willing to let go, without an ardent countering, even if I
unconsciously happened to make some oblique reference to God. All my life I had
friends of other faiths with no serious disagreements. But now for the first time the
prospect of sharing my entire life with my self chosen guy who disbanded the very idea
of God and creation was seeming disconcerting and a little scary.
But worries about our spiritual dissonance soon became peripheral as things in
our career front began to take an upturn. I qualified for the I.A.S. and joined the I.A.S
academy at Mussourie in September 1996. Meanwhile Sanjay too won his court case and
joined the I.R.S. Academy at Nagpur by Feb 1997.
Sanjay and I were now writing letters, sending cards and spending all our
earnings on long distance phone calls. We were also beginning to savour our first
quarrels in courtship as Sanjay’s short, to the point replies to my long, unending letters
always seemed to me grossly inadequate reciprocation.
In June 1998, during the first leave that we could manage together, we got
married in a simple church wedding followed by traditional tribal ceremony.
 Chapter 6

Getting Along

Soon after marriage, I joined my place of first posting, as Sub Divisional Officer
(S.D.O.) Dhalbhum, Jamshedpur. Sanjay who was then posted at Siliguri, West Bengal
as Assistant Commissioner, Income Tax, too got transferred to Jamshedpur the following
year.
Sanjay and I had the time of our life in Jamshedpur. We were posted together in a
good place, we were doing well in our work, we had good friends and we had all the free
time to ourselves .
Initially of course, we required a lot of patience to match frequencies and scale
down our unrealistic expectations from each other. Our natures were neither identical nor
suitably complementary. Sanjay, I realized was completely inept at handling my mood
swings, my unpredictable emotions and my headstrong style of taking hasty, impulsive
and mostly intuitive decisions.
 On the other hand, I found his cool, imperturbable nature frustratingly cold at
times. I think we took a long time to adjust to each other’s temperaments but by the end
of about six years we had managed to become fairly good friends, as desirous in any
successful marriage. But as friend, I still graded Sanjay after my best friend Deepa and
my mother who were clearly more perceptive of my hypersensitive nature.
Religion still remained a sore area with us. An area that was best relegated to the
background for it inevitably became a battle ground whenever it came to the forefront.
My religious beliefs, I concede, could technically be categorized as orthodox though not
to be construed, by any stretch of imagination, as intolerant or contemptuous of other
beliefs, for I recall how during an election time, (I was S.D.O. in Jamshedpur then), when
one of the Election observers, on learning that I was a tribal Christian asked me, with an
unmistakable hint of skeptical curiosity, “Oh! You are a Christian?! How rigidly do you
believe in your religion, how would you define your extent of faith?” I answered without
thinking, “Sir I believe the Bible in its entirety”. And on retrospect, I felt quite pleased
with my answer, but in my heart I knew, Sanjay was any day a more articulate and
aggressive defender of his convictions in Darwinian Theory.
In the beginning when we were just married, trying to follow my mother in law’s
advice to the letter, I did try to persuade Sanjay to accompany me to church, arguing that
even if he did not wish to attend church service he must do so, if only for the sake of
giving me company. But I soon realized my mistake, for asking him to give me company
at church against his will was not the same as taking him shopping forcefully. I was
trying to bring in God through the backdoor which was not a desirable objective at all. If
Sanjay was not a believer and not interested in going to church I must just let him be. I
must give him the space, the freedom of choice he desired.
I did not insist too much on the church going, also perhaps for the simple reason
that I did believe that If God wished to bring him to His fold he would do so in His own
way. Just because I happened to be Sanjay’s wife did not necessarily mean I would be the
medium or instrument for any transformation in Sanjay. As Jesus says in John
6:65,“…No one can come to me unless the Father makes it possible for him to do so” and
if God so desired, nothing and no one ( not even Sanjay himself )could stop him from
becoming a believer of Christian faith .
 My own life was far from exemplary to delude me that my husband could be
influenced by my life and ways. But there was one thing I could certainly do and did do
was to pray earnestly whenever I felt forlorn walking to church alone.
I would pray quite often, “O Lord let the day come soon when Sanjay and I can
go to church together, get down on our knees and pray together as true believers.” My
rational mind could reason as much it wanted, that religion and God did not matter in my
married life, love compensated for everything but something, somewhere always felt
lacking. I never felt completely one and my heart yearned for the spiritual bonding we
lacked. I desired the togetherness in the presence of a Higher being, the holiness and
sanctity as during marriage in the presence of the Supreme one. I longed for the day when
we could welcome back God into our married life.
But in the present we were both avidly keeping God out of our daily life, as God
was our bone of contention. If we happened to watch any programme on National
Geography or Discovery channel that unwittingly led to a discussion with regard to the
creation / evolution of the earth and this universe, invariably by the end of it, we would
be arguing intensely. I think after the first few years we learnt to steer clear of such
contentious issues.
All these were part of the adjustments we made to make our marriage work. Of
course fine tuning also included remembering and working on some fundamentals about
each other. I learnt (without being convinced) not to disturb Sanjay with non S.O.S.
phone calls during office hours, not to send or expect mushy cards/SMS, to surprise him
with Biryani once in a while and most importantly never to disturb him if he were
watching, be it for the nth time, any program even remotely connected to Egypt or
pharaohs or mummies.
Sanjay on the other hand, patiently tried to learn (and is still learning) to read a
woman between the lines, to say things I wished to hear, to treat me to Golgappas and
Dosas every now and then, to remember that my family members were sacrosanct, to buy
me dresses when I insisted I didn’t need one and to patch up every quarrel by preparing
black tea for me and agreeing for a long heart to heart talk.
I think we were a happy couple most of the time which helped us to give our
hundred percent at office too.
 Chapter 7

Crisis and Joy

Well, remaining happily married means having a baby next. Else the world
around you presumes, something is not quite right. In the first year that we spent at
Jamshedpur together, we planned not to have a baby. We were both content to allow
work to take up all our time and energy. But by the second year when we decided it was
the right time to have a baby we realized things were not happening as we desired.
“A man’s heart plans his ways but the Lord directs his steps.”
My then Deputy Commissioner (D.C.) asked me once, “Vandana, Aren’t you and
Sanjay planning to have a baby soon?” and I replied sheepishly, “Sir, Sir, yes Sir.”
Two, three, four and then five years down the line, still no sign of good news.
I was now Managing Director of the Adityapur Industrial Area Development
Authority and Sanjay was Deputy Commissioner of Income tax and both of us were
luckily still posted together in Jamshedpur. Only we had shifted to a slightly smaller but
more cozy house. We had more time now at hand because of the nature of my work and
I remember on Saturdays we would watch T.V. till late night and wake up very late on
Sundays and have a lazy brunch. We would watch all the latest movie releases and visit
friends frequently. At times I did have guilt pangs about the luxuriously lazy life I was
leading outside office.
 On the advice and insistence of friends we had now started consulting doctors.
But both of us were still not really aching to have a child. We were perhaps too engrossed
in ourselves and content with life. Quite often we would count all the seemingly happy
childless couples that we knew of and plan how we would spend the rest of our lives if
we never had children.
It was on one such lazy Sunday afternoon that we watched the movie, “Life is
Beautiful” on the television, where the child protagonist is named Joshua. The next
morning when we woke up, Sanjay smiled and said, “Vandana, I had such a beautiful
dream last night. You know I never see dreams, but last night I had a strange dream. I
dreamt that we have a beautiful baby boy and we have named him Joshua and I am
singing the old Hindi song “Mera naam Karega Roshan….”
I think it was from that point onwards that Sanjay seriously desired that we have a
baby. I remember telling him one night, “Perhaps Joshua is looking at us from above and
telling,” “I am quite happy up here, don’t try to bring me down there in your big bad
world,” at which Sanjay promptly replied, “Perhaps he is saying, “I do want to come
down soon, Just desire me a little more mama.”
Sanjay had for the first time so frankly expressed his desire, his longing for a
child and I felt a little taken aback by his candidness.
God and religion being a completely private and personal area for me, I had
never shared with Sanjay that in my prayers I had somehow never before prayed for a
child. Apart from praying for our daily needs, the only sincere prayer every night would
be for my parents, “O lord, When Ma and Papa are old and sick or dying let me be there
to take care of them.” And of course my prayer that Sanjay and I could some day, pray to
God together.
But from that day onwards, for the first time I started praying for Joshua. There
were a couple of occasions when I went down on my knees and prayed with tears,
something I had not done since my I.I.T. days.
That fateful afternoon is still so clear in my mind. Sanjay was at office and I was
at home because of some State Govt. holiday. I tested in the Velocit Pregnancy Kit. As
always there appeared a single line. Negative again.
But something made me keep the slide on the window sill and not throw it in the
dustbin instantly. I knelt down at the bedside and prayed and continued praying for a long
time. I do not know how long but at the end of it I felt a deep sense of peace. I read the
Bible and suddenly something prompted me to walk to the window sill and take a look at
the slide again before taking the periods inducing medicines.
And there it was! The faintest of second line. I rang up Sanjay excitedly and he
came back, armed with a few more kits for testing. And we spent the next few hours
surfing together, all the pregnancy test related sites on the internet. Visit to the doctor and
confirmation of the good news followed but I could not bring myself to share my prayer
experience with Sanjay. But I conserved the experience as a secret treasure.
[While Sanjay, I recently discovered, had carefully preserved that first harbinger
of good news; the slide, where the second line first appeared, which heralded the second
chapter (of children) in our lives.]
Days passed and months and we made elaborate preparations to welcome the new
one. We made a video capturing how we bought the first almirah and cot for the little
one, the clothes we bought and I also recorded a song I wrote in anticipation of Joshua.
All was well, although I was in and out of Tinplate and T.M.H. hospitals for high blood
pressure and gestational diabetes problems. Sanjay was hard pressed for time between
office and hospital visits.
I was in the seventh month of pregnancy when he was suddenly assigned an
additional responsibility of Dhanbad charge where an officer was suspended on
corruption charges.

11th Feb, 2004

Sanjay left for Dhanbad early that morning and was scheduled to come back the
next day. That evening I again indulged in my favourite pastime of opening the suitcases
full of baby’s clothes and admiring the little dresses. I knew one suffers from fluctuating
emotions during pregnancy so I thought it was that perhaps or maybe it was because I had
not heard from Sanjay the whole day that I suddenly felt assailed by a deep sense of
sadness and fear.
What if Sanjay met with an accident! What if Sanjay were to die before Joshua
arrived! How would I be able to bring up the child alone, “O please Lord, Let not the
child be born fatherless.” I was praying and pleading without realizing. At the same time
I felt guilty having such unwarranted and apparently irrational thoughts about Sanjay’s
death but I allowed the tears to flow down.
 I knelt on the floor, “O lord, Let nothing happen to my Sanjay, I love him too
much and I need him so much, more than ever before.” I felt much lighter after having
cried my heart out and I dismissed my feelings as pregnancy blues. I played on my
keyboard, watched television and waited for Sanjay to call up.
After about eight in the night when I realized it was high time that he should have
called up, I started trying to contact Sanjay. I think it was around nine that I was able to
get the call across and a stranger’s voice answered the phone to say, “I am his inspector
from Dhanbad. Sanjay has suffered a heart attack, We have admitted him to a nursing
home, but we might have to shift him to BCCL hospital (Dhanbad).”
I felt strangely calm on hearing the news but my voice broke as I called up his
friend and my senior at I.I.T. and also in the service Ajoy Km Singh, who was then
posted as Dhanbad D.C. Ajoy later called up to inform that they were shifting Sanjay to
the main hospital at Bokaro (BSL Hospital). I called up one of Sanjay’s friends Mr. S.K.
Naredi whom I asked to come at the earliest, next morning with any car that would jerk
less on the potholed Chandil Bokaro road. I also asked him to inform Sanjay’s senior in
the Department Mrs. Anuradha Misra who was not only a good family friend but
someone I greatly admired as an officer and as a wonderful human being.
I was seven months pregnant, on B.P. medicine and insulin and needed therefore
to rush quietly to Bokaro before my doctor could advise me not to. Sanjay I knew would
be very upset if something happened to the baby.
But by God’s grace everything went off well. I reached Bokaro safely the next
morning day only to be greeted by an expectedly annoyed Sanjay who was more worried
that I had traveled on such a bad road at seven months pregnancy than his own heart
condition. But I knew, though Sanjay would not admit it to himself even, that my
presence was necessary for him. My father and Sanjay’s younger brother joined me in
Bokaro and we stayed there till Sanjay was well enough to travel.
The heart attack had been rather severe and we planned to go to Escorts Hospital,
Delhi for further necessary treatment. But on the advice of friends and colleagues on the
way back we stopped for an Angiography at Apollo Hospital Ranchi which led to a
subsequent angioplasty since the angiography report revealed serious blockages.
With the crisis behind us, after a week’s stay at the hospital in Ranchi we were
back in Jamshedpur. With Sanjay recuperating we now awaited Joshua’s arrival.
 But before that, friends and well wishers flocked to our home at Jamshedpur on
hearing about Sanjay’s heart attack. And with it advices galore. Advices about food
habits, exercise, yogasan, stress free lifestyle, meditation. Self help books were
prescribed and gifted by well meaning friends. I was amazed at the unusual patience
Sanjay displayed in listening to the repetitive advices.
I too did not lose the opportunity to give him some religious admonitions and a
piece of my own mind. I said to myself, “if only I had been a nagging wife and made him
give up smoking, his heart attack could have been averted.” But better late than never. I
could now righteously don the role of a lecturing wife for the rest of our married life.
As days passed I kept my fingers crossed, hoping to see some radical changes in
Sanjay’s lifestyle. On the physical side, yes there certainly was. Sanjay’s food habit
underwent a change, red meat and eggs were out, smoking was given up for good and
morning walk was in.
But Sanjay had grown completely quiet, withdrawn and non-communicative. He
was tormenting himself by the question he put before everyone, “Why me? Did I abuse
my body so much? I do not drink at all, I was not a heavy or chain smoker nor was my
diet that rich ever. Why me?”
I was at a loss to offer him any answers. For God or His plans figured no where in
Sanjay’s whole perspective of life. I wanted to say to Sanjay, Dr. Neeraj (the
cardiologist) has given you a new heart physically but I believe it is God who wants to
completely renew your heart. But I knew better now than to make the mistake of
sermonizing Sanjay.
I knew Sanjay was going through a difficult time emotionally but there was no
way I could help him directly. I wanted to share his feelings and not be shut out of what
he was going through. But at this crucial juncture our relationship was at its lowest ebb. I
think I too became quiet and withdrawn.

For the first time I felt a great distance from my husband.

Life continued with its little ups and downs, daily packets of joys and anxieties.
Joshua arrived on 25th April 2004 and life was never the same again. Joshua was quite
small at birth weighing just 2.5 kilos but he was the world to us.
 The first two months, Sanjay and I hardly slept a wink. We would be awake at the
slightest movement that Joshua made. We were tense all the time worrying as to whether
we were doing everything right according to the child care books. We weighed him
almost every other day on the machine we had bought, compared it with the development
charts we downloaded from the internet and were at the pediatricians almost every week
for no particular reason.
Overnight we had converted into paranoid parents, wanting to score 100 % in
parenting. But slowly we learnt to take things easy and enjoy parenthood. Our life now
became centered around Joshua and Sanjay now became a proud and doting father.
I think I shall always give more scores to Sanjay as a father than as husband
although as an individual I concede he is a more large hearted person than I am. It is his
inherent nature to help any and everyone who asks for his help and it is because he can
never say no that very often he ends up taking more stress for himself than he can handle.
Sanjay has also never hesitated in sacrificing his own time and career prospects
for mine whenever I needed his support in my career. When A.I.A.D.A. was made the
nodal agency, soon after the creation of Jharkhand, to manage the (first) Jharkhand
Pavillion during the India International Trade Fair at Delhi and I was required to handle
things I had not done before, he accompanied me to Delhi everytime, although it meant
spending money from our own pockets. Even when I have been nervous about little
things such as making my first ever presentation abroad or organizing Chhau Mahotsav
in the district in a big way with scarce resources, sensing my need, he has always been by
my side to encourage me. I think as far as appreciating me and motivating me to do my
best was concerned he took over Ma’s place in my life.
But the feeling of something amiss continued to plague my heart and I knew until
Sanjay and I shared a spiritual togetherness I could not truly call him my soul mate.

Chapter 8

Ma’s Illness
 It was December 2004, when we were all at Ranchi together, for the baptism of
Golu (Samuel ) Sapna’s son and second child after Sarah Bulbul that Ma complained of
ill health. Of course Mother still appeared her former active self, running around the
house, doing things for her grandchildren( Poppy, Sarah, Anugraha, Joshua and Golu )
and also her three not so efficient daughters but she told us that for some time she had
been suffering from a persistent backache which was getting worse by the day. She also
mentioned that she had lost a lot of weight recently. Ma did look very thin but we
attributed it to the multiple bouts of malaria she had recently suffered from.
By March (2005) end, Ma was complaining consistently about the back pain. I
was still posted in Jamshedpur and during the busy month of March managed to go to
Ranchi just once to show her to a doctor. But the ultra sound did not reveal anything. The
doctor advised me to take her to Jamshedpur and get a thorough checkup done.
I returned to Jamshedpur feeling worried. We had hardly ever seen Ma fall ill or
take to bed for more than a day. A few days later Ratna, my eldest sister informed me
over the phone that Ma was unable to get up from bed because of the pain. I realized I
had to bring Ma to Jamshedpur without further delay. I also thought it would be better to
speak to the doctors first so that when Ma came I could take her straight to the hospital.
I still remember the first time I met Dr. Bandopadhyaya of Tata Motors hospital.
Between two operations he was trying to snatch a quick bite and the additional
appointment with me, made him, miss that small meal too. He was such a kind, genteel
person. You feel blessed to meet such people, rare people that you come across in your
lifetime only if you are lucky; people who leave a lasting impression in one brief
meeting.
Dr. Bandopadhyaya asked me just three simple questions, “Has your mother lost a
lot of weight recently? Has she lost her appetite? Does she complain of back pain?”
When I answered all three in the affirmative, his unsmiling face, did not look
encouraging. He looked at the Ultra sound reports and said, “There is a great probability
that she has cancer.”
My heart refused to even consider that a possibility. Why and how should my
mother have cancer! I returned home to discuss things with Sanjay who too didn’t
seriously consider that a possibility. But that night I prayed with real fear in my heart, “O
lord let not our worst fears be confirmed.”
 The day Ma and Papa were to arrive from Ranchi, while at work, I was praying
unceasingly for a safe and painless journey for Ma. So were my sisters and the rest of the
family. In the lunch hour when I rushed home from office to meet Ma, I was relieved to
learn, her journey had not been uncomfortable. We went to the hospital immediately
where with co-operation from the Tata Motors Hospital management we were able to
meet the doctors directly with minimum inconvenience and delay.
After examination a C.T. scan at Dr Jhingon’s diagnostic centre was advised. We
went to Dr. Jhingon and I watched nervously as Ma’s fragile frame entered the C.T. Scan
machine. In the adjoining room with Dr. Jhingon, I was watching the images on the
computer screen. Dr Jhingon turned to me and said without mincing words, “look all
these dark patches, which you can see, they appear cancerous….., you will be advised a
biopsy but I have seen so many of these …, I am absolutely sure, the liver is affected, it
has started from the Pancreas, it is the third or 4th stage.” I was well acquainted with
Dr.Jhingon’s reputation in Jamshedpur to have any doubts remaining about the prognosis.
I returned with Ma to the Hospital. Things were so rapidly turning for the worst, I
was feeling ill equipped to hold my emotions. Reaching the hospital we were sitting
together quietly in the lobby waiting for the wheel chair boy to come when Ma looked at
me in the eye and said, “Are they saying, it is Cancer?” I don’t know how mother must
have guessed but I could not lie to her. I replied without thinking, “Yes,” and then got up
hurriedly, my legs suddenly feeling numb, to call up both my sisters and inform, “Ma
knows everything already.”
A few days later Ma was discharged from Tata Motors hospital. The senior
physician, Dr.Ray whom I went to meet after the discharge formalities, looked at me with
such empathy in his kind eyes as he said, “Vandana, do you have an elder brother or
someone who can take care of you?” “Doctor, we are three sisters,” I replied, trying to
smile politely. But his concern choked my voice and I couldn’t add what my heart was
telling me, “Its going to be O.K. God is going to be your strength and shelter at every
step, He is there for crisis such as this.”
Yes, God was indeed going to become our shelter and refuge during those long
months. I remember how during Ma’s severe illness the beautiful song, “What a friend
we have in Jesus,” became such a heartfelt daily prayer.
The next few (precisely seven) months involved three visits to Mumbai for
treatment under the advise of Dr. Advani and endless visits to T.M.H. (Tata Main
hospital) where Chemotherapy was administered. I also remember every one of the
numerous visits we had to make to Dr Jhingon’s diagnostic center in the following
months and how my heart would suffer so many emotions every time I saw my mother’s
weak frame go inside the C.T. scan machine .
By the time of the last visit that we made, mother had become extremely weak.
She was struggling to swallow the water that she was required to drink. She was
shivering with cold in the A.C. room, despite the blanket given to her, while I was
focusing hard on trying to talk normally to Dr. Jhingon and detach myself from Ma’s
suffering. But howsoever hard you try, you cannot insulate yourself from the sufferings
of a loved one and even as I write this I can recall Ma’s face and almost feel the pain Ma
must have gone through.
The first few days after we learnt of Ma’s illness we scanned almost everything
relevant about the disease that we could find on the internet. But Sapna found a beautiful
book in Good Books shop, “The Joy Of Cancer,” which helped us the most. It helped us
understand what to expect and how to cope with the situation as the disease progresses.
Our family bonded together, more strongly than ever, to face what lay in store for us.
I think in the beginning, I felt a little too worried and anxious about the
responsibility I was to shoulder. My sisters were in Ranchi and Mugalsarai and Ma and
Papa were now with me in Jamshedpur. Necessary day to day decisions in many matters
were to be taken by me.
My mind was filled with numerous fears and anxieties. Does cancer (if uncured)
get very painful in the end?, Do painkillers help? If one has to administer morphine how
does one know which is the right time to start the dose, does morphine also not help in
the end? Will chemotherapy be more harmful than helpful as some hinted, will ayurvedic
help? Can we try the homeopathy cure simultaneously and the biggest question how
many months more if the cancer does not get cured, how does a person eventually
die…….? I wished my sisters were with me.
But physical distances were bridged by prayer. Sending requests to prayer tower,
sharing anything inspirational that we read or heard over the television, we supported
each other in the grief we shared. Friends and family came over almost daily to our
house to pray for Ma.
During this period, I was invited once at Church to address a youth group and I
spoke about Ma’s illness and said, “Perhaps it has come to unite us together as a family.
We are three sisters, who after our marriages, though not in any unfriendly terms with
each other had become absorbed in our own lives and physical distances had created
invisible barriers that are now broken down because of the sorrow we share. And bonding
that takes place in times of crisis, is what is everlasting.”
But I still felt extremely lonely at times, praying in the solitude of my room when
Sanjay was away. Sanjay did all he could to help me, be my support. Meeting all the
doctors, arranging for medicines when not available locally, vehicles, tickets,
accompanying my sister, uncle and brother in law to Mumbai, to Kolkata. I could not
have done without Sanjay.
But in my prayers, in my tears, in my weak moments I was alone and I felt alone.
Somehow I could never break down before Sanjay. Perhaps deep down I always felt
myself to be stronger and could not bring myself to lean upon him because he was not
leaning upon God.
I started praying longer and more fervently. Whenever I prayed I could picture
myself and Ma, on a tight rope moving over a dark valley, knowing and believing there
was light at the other end. “Only I must hold on to the rope till we reached the end
because that is God’s guiding hand, our lifeline and as long as I am holding on to it
nothing can hurt us.”
I began to take one day at a time. And after prayer I would consciously push all
worries away. Each day my only prayer would be, “God give me the strength to bear
what awaits me today. Lord, Please, please do not abandon us.”
And slowly I began to see and feel God taking charge of my life, making His
presence felt in my daily life, taking care of my biggest need, my smallest anxiety.
Howsoever difficult and urgent our need would be, the requisite help would be waiting
for me, at the precise corner where I needed it, in the exact time when I needed it and in
the exact measure that I required it. I would be worried about finding suitable attendants
for taking care of Ma during the day time when I went to office and someone just as I
desired would arrive. So many friends, relatives, doctors, my subordinates at office and
Sanjay’s friends helped us selflessly in those days of crisis.
After the second Chemotherapy Ma’s condition improved, more than what we
were expecting. The Doctor said, he was surprised and happy with the response Ma had
shown. And Ma on returning to Jamshedpur from Mumbai, went to church to offer
thanksgiving for the progress she was making.
 The next few weeks, life seemed a little more bright and cheerful. Joshua could
speak to his grandmother and Ma could read books and watch television along with Papa
and speak to relatives who came over to visit. I still remember how my heart skipped
with joy, the day I retuned from office to see Ma and Papa sitting in the garden. For so
long Ma had not been able to move out of the bed. It was such an immense pleasure just
to see that Ma had been able to walk on her own and step out of the house till the garden.
It also made me realize how much Ma meant to me and how badly I wanted to see her get
well completely.
There was another festive day when Ma’s college colleagues gave her a surprise
visit. There was lots of laughter and we took a still photo and video of the moment when
Ma’s friends managed to make her laugh despite the pain.
But after the third Chemotherapy, in October(2005) Ma’s condition began to take
a rapid downturn and both my sisters came over to Jamshedpur. Sapna along with Papa
stayed back to look after the children and the household while Ratna, Sanjay, Jijaji and I
took Ma to Kolkata. The doctor took one look at her, then looked up and said, “ Now
everything depends on Him Alone.”
We returned home with a heavy heart and when my sisters left, I felt lonely and
sad and afraid about what lay ahead.
It became quite difficult to look after Ma in the last days. She would hardly open
her mouth to eat or drink anything. She could not go to the toilet or even sit up on bed.
She would be annoyed when we shifted and turned her to change her clothes. In the
mornings when I went to see her, Ma’s face, distorted with pain and weakness would
sometimes scare me so much, I would almost feel relieved when the attendant arrived to
take over charge. Ratna came over during weekends whenever she could and we kept
Sapna and other family friends and relatives informed about Ma’s condition.
But all the while, I still tried to keep an emotional distance from all that Ma was
going through. I took meticulous care of her physical needs but at the same time
consciously detached myself from her pain and also Papa’s silent suffering so that I could
discharge my office responsibilities as normally as required.
After a few days Ma’s face began to look extremely hollow and frightening.
When I tried to forcefully push any food between her tightly clenched teeth she would
open her eyes, yellow with advanced jaundice ( the disease having spread to the entire
liver now ) in a look of such pain that my legs would freeze. And we noticed that Ma’s
stomach was beginning to look swollen and large. When we asked one of the Tata
Meherbai Hospital doctors, Dr. Mishra, he said it was cancer spreading all over.
“Whenever you feel the need for anything just give me a call. I shall come over,” he
added. We were grateful for his words.
I asked Ratna to come over if she could. “It can be anytime now,” I said.

10th November, 2005

That morning I could not bring myself to go to office. Something was holding me
back at home. But I could not take a casual or earned leave either, because few days later
the Hon’ble Chief Minister was scheduled to come to Adityapur for the stone laying
ceremony of the Special Economic Zone, the first in Jharkhand. And AIADA being the
nodal agency for it, the list of eleventh hour tasks to be completed was unending. My
mind went over the pending tasks; the master plan was to be displayed properly at the
site, the ground had to be cleared, some villagers had protested (although the land
belonged to AIADA) which had to be looked into, the helipad had to be prepared, the
decorations and the stone for the ceremony were to be approved, they were to look good
befitting the ambitious project, the cards had to be delivered timely, care was to be taken
that no local leader got left out resulting in needless controversy and yes the press was to
be briefed properly, beforehand, about the technical aspects of the project so that there
was no wrong reporting.
I called up my second officer, Mr. H.N.Ram to tell him, “I will not be able to
come to office today. I will be at home. Send all the necessary, important files and
letters to my house.”
There was no residential office as such at my AIADA residence, so the whole day
saw my engineers, decorators, contractors and officers having discussions with me in the
drawing room and then going over to the adjoining room to take a look at my ailing
mother.
By 7.00 PM all my officers had left. There was some work still remaining to be
done, both at the office and the function site but my officers assured me they would
manage everything and keep me posted. I need not worry on that account.
I was just winding up my files when Papa came to the drawing room and said,
“Ma was breathing very heavily a few minutes ago, it has subsided now …”Papa’s face
said the rest.
 I got up with a fright. Sanjay was just entering the room having come back from
office. On hearing papa’s words, without waiting for a cue, he rushed to get the doctor. I
hurried to Ma’s room. Suvidha our helper was sitting beside Ma, rubbing one hand
gently. I got up on the bed and sitting down by her side took the other hand between both
my palms. Papa sat down at the feet of the bed. Suddenly Ma started breathing heavily
again. Her eyes were open but she was not looking at any of us.
Holding Ma ’s hand I do not know how (I later mentioned this to my eldest sister
and my friends ) but the words of Psalm 23 kept coming to my mind, “Yea though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil. For you are with me.. ” And
I kept praying, “O Lord let it happen soon, Let Ma suffer no more. Let it be over soon.”
After about two minutes of gasping for breath, Ma closed her eyes and I was
staring at her serene face. I turned and said, “Papa, Call Pastor Dahanga.” I sent an SMS
to Sanjay, “Come Back.”( While reading the first draft of this account, Sanjay showed me
that message he had kept saved. The time reads 7.26.50 PM)
Within the next few minutes we had informed our immediate family and taking
directions from Ratna’s in laws in Ranchi over the phone I was cleaning and dressing up
Ma. Few hours later we had placed her in the drawing room with candles, flowers and
incense. Ratna’s sister in law Anita, who stayed in Jamshedpur came over and I was
grateful for her company in keeping vigil through the night. Papa sat in the out house
room, whole night, where the coffin box was being prepared. Joshua had gone to bed
early (I was thankful to God for that ) and Sanjay was in complete charge of him for the
night.
Early next morning, we left for Ranchi. Looking back, I think the burial was
exactly as Ma had always desired. She used to say, she did not like people crying loudly
or uncontrollably in the graveyard and she had told us categorically once, “when I die
please don’t cry near the grave.”
And that is how it was. Although there was a fairly huge crowd of all our loved
ones and well wishers at the cemetery service and in the evening prayer meeting, much
larger than the normally small gathering when an elderly person dies, there was a
dignified somber silence and we felt at peace with ourselves, after the day’s events.
Two days later I was back in Jamshedpur, sadly sifting through Ma ’s few clothes,
books and belongings in her almirah and trying to purge out the strong smell of
medicines.
 Four days later I was welcoming the Hon’ble chief Minister and other guests at
the elaborate function we had organized to mark the SEZ stone laying ceremony in the
Adityapur Industrial Area .
Two days later I suffered a missed abortion. I began to feel a deep sense of
depression.
I went back to my first passion. Ma had inculcated in me, early on, the habit of
writing a daily diary. Every year on my birthday in January, since my fifth birthday, Ma
used to gift me a small diary. She stopped gifting me diaries only after I joined service
and New Year saw me redistributing and gifting diaries myself. But ironically by then I
had forfeited the time to write even a single page a day.
But now, after Ma’s death, trying to write again, I realized prose or poetry or long
e-mails to friends failed to uplift my downcast spirits. Nothing could transport me to the
painless world I desired.
I reasoned to myself. “I am a married woman with a family of my own. I am a
modern day working woman, strong and independent. People face far greater tragedies
every day and learn to move on. Can my grief ever compare with those who lose their
entire families in sudden mishaps, calamities; with the suffering of those who do not
have enough to eat, enough to wear; old people left uncared for , young girls: victims of
rape, dowry… ..”
We see those faces everyday in the newspapers, in the television. I even come
across some of these faces in the course of my work. How can I then allow my own
personal grief to become so large and out of proportion. Why am I feeling so low, so
heartbroken on losing my aged mother? Will time ever be able to heal this sense of loss I
feel, the hurt and betrayal I feel at having been separated from Ma.
My mind had no answers to offer.
I picked up the Bible, as always the last resort to find comfort, to seek refuge and
shelter when I failed to find it elsewhere. I read the passage I had so often quoted to
others to help them cope with their tragedies
“To everything there is a season
A time for every purpose under heaven
A time to be born
And a time to die
A time to plant
 And a time to pluck what is planted….” Ecclesiastes 3:1,2

And then it came to me suddenly with a bang!!!

Mother had died indeed and all of us have to meet the same fate someday.
But in her death God had granted me the first of my two deepest desires.
To be near my parent on his/her dying bed.

How many people are granted the chance of being able to take care of their
parents in their sickness, parents who’ve sacrificed their all for their children? How many
experience the blessing of holding his loved parent’s hand, watching him/her enter
eternal rest, free from all labour, all pain? God had actually bothered to answer the prayer
that I had been praying unthinkingly for the past many years and acceded to my request.
In the recent past, before Ma fell ill, whenever I would visit my parents in Ranchi,
their advancing age and depleting energy would make me extremely anxious. I would
feel guilty that I could not arrange for a single proper caretaker to look after them in
Ranchi while back in Jamshedpur, I had more than necessary manpower to look after my
household. At each visit they appeared older and weaker with age. But I also knew Ma,
Papa would never agree to leave their Bariatu home without compelling reasons.…. But
who knew God had everything planned differently. For who has known the mind of the
Lord that he may instruct HIM? 1Corinthians 2:16
A man’s heart plans his ways but the Lord directs his steps.
I was absolutely certain this was no coincidence. Ma’s illness and her coming to
Jamshedpur was divinely ordered. God had shown His mercy to me and answered my
heartfelt prayers. He had granted me my deepest desire. I could not share this with
anyone but my heart was singing for joy.
I had found the key that would henceforth unlock untold treasures and happiness
in my life. I had been holding the key all along, all my life, since the time I was born,
baptized; Only now I knew for myself, it was the right key, Perchance I had discovered
it, discerned it and No one and Nothing could now take it away from me. My heart was
leaping for joy and I was looking forward to each new day now to witness God’s plans
unfolding for me.
 Chapter 9

The turning point

Perhaps it was a result, a consequence of watching so closely, the face of a loved

one at death that I began to feel a great sense of alienation from what was happening
around me. Apart from office work, Joshua kept me quite busy at home but everytime
that I put him to bed, I would recall the time when I prayed to God to grant Ma
everlasting sleep and then remember Ma’s face at death and with it the thought “God did
answer my prayer..”
I began to be troubled by a sudden new question. “What do I really want to do in
life, what must I do that will give me everlasting joy, that will give me a sense of
completion at the end of my life, satisfaction that I have lived my life fully, utilized all
the talents given to me, confidence that I have lived my life the way God wants me to.
What is my purpose of coming to this earth?” And as constantly as the questions bothered
my mind I pestered Sanjay with the same.
Sanjay was beleaguered, not only by my constant niggling but frequently
changing decisions and impatience. “Sanjay, I want to do something different. Something
for others. Something in parallel with my I.A.S. job. Do you think I could start an NGO?”
“But won’t some kind of a charitable trust be a better idea, Or should I spare some hours
daily for working in some social organization/hospital, I could put in some hours at the
old age home run by the sisters, I don’t think I can continue in the I.A.S., we hardly have
any surplus money of our own to help or support anyone, but if I quit my job what work
can I take up to support myself, or should I first do some management course from a
good institute and take up a fat salaried job and use the disposable income to help
others…. .”
I was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions and ideas and I wished something,
someone could calm me down, sort out my thoughts, my emotions for me. I even started
to secretly pen down the advantages and disadvantages that I saw in every option
available before me so as to save myself the torture of going round and round the same
choices and reasoning in a loop, that I went through repeatedly in my mind, without
arriving at any conclusion.
I also realized that my pleasure in anything material at that point of time suddenly
began to wane quite a bit. Shopping, earlier, used to be a sure cure for my worst blues.
But the indulgence now failed to give me the former delight. On the contrary if I now
bought even a simple dress for myself, the happiness would be short lived. I would start
thinking with dismay, “Was another dress really necessary? What if I had given this
money to my daily wage earner driver or peon, the amount would have meant so much
more to him.”
Sanjay and I had booked a small flat in Adityapur area some time back. And
earlier, on my way to the office everyday whenever I crossed the flat we had booked, I
loved to speculate, “What if JUSCO ( subsidiary company of TATA Steel ) power gets
extended to this area! The prices will definitely shoot up, we can sell this and buy a
bigger flat in Ranch.”
But not anymore. My mind and heart seemed to be in control of some other force,
desiring a different gratification. Something, someone, was perturbing me, questioning
my entire life and the way I was living it. Romanticizing about a happy, comfortable and
secure future no longer held the former pleasure. I was suddenly more concerned about
my complete bankruptcy and state of unpreparedness for the final destination all of us
have to eventually reach whether we want to or not. And I now began to truly understand
and almost feel the meaning of Jesus’ words in the Bible, “For where your treasure is,
there your heart will be also.” Luke 12 :21
Meanwhile, there was another baby on the way and physically I was again
undergoing problems of high blood pressure and sugar and I was in and out of hospital a
couple of times. I badly missed Ma’s voice that I was so used to hearing over the
telephone, everyday during my first pregnancy enquiring about my health. But Papa’s
presence and both my sisters’ regular phone calls partly made up for it.

13th October, 2006

I went to office as usual and feeling quite O.K. worked past normal office hours.
But late in the evening, after office, when I went for the routine check up, the doctor was
shocked to see my high B.P : 220/120. The ultra sound also revealed that there was some
intrauterine growth retardation as a result of which the baby’s growth had stopped at
thirty weeks. My doctor, Dr. Mamata asked me to reach the labour room of T.M.H.
without any delay.
Few hours later, lying on the operation table I could feel the palpable tension in
the room as the doctors prepared to administer anesthesia. It felt so ominous and different
from the previous time when Dr. Renuka had said a little prayer for me before taking me
to the operation room and I had felt so excited about Joshua’s expected arrival.
Sanjay too went through some very harrowing hours outside. While I was
wheeled into the operation room he was told a terse, “We will try to save the mother
first.” Sanjay’s friend told me later how Sanjay kept repeating, “Dot ji ( Dharmendra
Kumar ) It is the night of Friday the 13th. It portends evil. I feel something bad will
happen, something will go wrong I am afraid.”
When I regained consciousness, in the darkness (late night) of the labour room,
nobody volunteered any information. I felt certain that the baby had not survived and I
prepared myself to cope with the situation. I felt relieved that at least I was still alive to
care for Joshua.
But I should have known better. For being in the charge of Dr. Mamata who was
not only an extremely competent doctor but a wonderful human being, things could not
have gone wrong so easily.
And our prayers were answered with baby Johanna’s arrival, against all odds, a
tiny baby, with pencil thin legs and hands, weighing only 1.5 kg but otherwise perfectly
healthy and normal. She had to be in the nursery for a long time and thereafter in the sole
care and handling of her mother i.e. me for about two months. But even during then, her
lovely smile infused the entire house with immense joy and happiness. And after
mother’s death, for the first time I was feeling completely happy. We kept her middle
name Sneha after my mother’s name Snehlata.
But even my two children who were now becoming naughtier brats by the day
and kept me preoccupied most of the time could not dispel the entirely different set of
intense emotions I had been experiencing for some time. On the other hand, children in a
subtle manner helped me to understand better, the kind of absolute trust and loyalty that
God wants us to have in Him. I remember watching Joshua, so often, trying to balance
himself on a high plastic chair and shoving away with annoyance everytime, the hands I
tried to hide behind, to keep the chair stable, and how his antics used to make me lament
everytime, “How can this kid distrust his own mother so much, why hasn’t he figured out
yet, that his parents can only love him,” and like a flashbulb I’d be reminded, how
exasperating our own ways must seem to God, most of the time.
It was around this point of time that I was invited to a women’s program in the
Church ( all Churches combined ) and I had the God sent opportunity to get introduced to
Reverend Solomon who later sent me the book, “The Purpose Driven Life” by Rick
Warren which I recommend to everyone. That book helped calm down my thoughts and
feelings and put things in proper perspective. It made me understand, as the author says
in the first chapter, “The purpose of our life is far greater than our own personal
fulfillment, our peace of mind or even our happiness. We have to begin with God and
making God the reference point understand that we are born by His purpose and for His
purpose.”
The book became the turning point in my life. Reading the book over a period of
forty days as the author advises, I found all my doubts and anxieties slowly disappearing
away. I now realized I must wait to hear God’s call. Meanwhile I must strengthen myself
physically, mentally and spiritually to be useful for any work, for any vocation.

I started praying that I may get an answer soon and also recognize the answer
when it is given to me.
 Chapter 10

Career Frustrations

In April end (2007) I got transferred to Ranchi, the State Capital of Jharkhand. I
was now posted in the Secretariat as Director Primary Education. It was the first time in
my career that I would be working in my home town which meant after office hours, I
could be amidst friends and relatives. The place, the shops, the by lanes, held so many
fond memories. I felt happy just to be back home.
But first I needed to acclimatize to the new work, office and home environment.
Apart from finding my feet in the new assignment and responsibilities which meant
spending long hours at office, my remaining time was spent in trying to adapt to a new
life in a small rented apartment and ensuring good care of my two little ones whom I left
for long hours in the care of servants. Papa who has been with me since Ma’s demise
was a big moral support but I missed Sanjay terribly who was still posted in Jamshedpur
and in fact was away in Delhi for his mother’s by pass surgery.
But I was to get enmeshed in more serious career confusions, awaiting me.
When I was transferred to the above post in the Secretariat, some of my well
wishers advised me not to join the department. They elaborated, that the particular
posting was regarded as a shunt posting, for no direct recruit I.A.S. officer in Jharkhand
had been posted there on a regular, long term basis. I was advised by many, to request for
a change in the posting, who said, “Since the cadre strength of the state is small, there is
no reason why an officer’s genuine grievance should not be addressed.”
But in my headstrong fashion, not paying much heed to wise counsel, I joined the
department and with a lot of anticipation since education had always been a subject close
to my heart. And from what I knew and had seen, Primary Education in Jharkhand was a
sector that offered a lot of opportunity and challenge for new initiatives. Here was a
chance to give back something substantive to the state I belonged to.
But I must confess, somewhere deep down in my heart, I was expecting a field
posting in the District, at my level of seniority, since I had been out of mainstream
posting for the past many years and I was also nearing the end of the bracket when one
can work in the field as collector. I had been posted in a district just once and that too in a
newly carved out district which is quite a different exposure and most of my immediate
juniors and seniors had completed much longer tenures in bigger, established districts.
Coming back to my present assignment, I had worked for about three months in
the Department when I began to realize what my well wishers had been trying to tell me
all along. I realized the work profile was not what I had expected. Ninety percent of my
time was getting consumed in looking after establishment matters of teachers and
education officers, than addressing the core issues which affect and impact education.
Being in a department where there are around 2000 court cases at any point of time, we
were fire fighting all the time worrying mostly about show causes and counter affidavits
to be filed and information to be furnished to the R.T.I. (Right To Information Act)
notices.
Not only was I failing to derive any work satisfaction out of the routine court
related work but I was beginning to feel extremely underutilized (despite the long office
hours) and stifled. Added to that, I discovered to my sad surprise that some of my seniors
and juniors, to suit their own convenience had spread the rumour that I, being a lady
officer and belonging to Ranchi town, had myself opted for an easy posting in Ranchi and
that I was not keen on doing a district assignment any more. Nothing could have been
further from the truth.
Most I.A.S. officers given the chance to write a eulogy on their great careers will
not only begin but perhaps end with what they did as young dynamic collectors. But it is
also not wholly untrue when a bona fide IAS officer (who has his heart in the right place)
writes in his memoirs that the most satisfying moments of his career have been those
when his personal presence directly helped ameliorate the sufferings of the poor, when
his initiative helped bring about some tangible difference or when his intervention
brought some instant justice to the exploited.
That is the sense of righteous power that gives a heady feeling to a Deputy
Commissioner, a collector. Also the rare privilege to serve the most underprivileged
directly during field postings and the satisfaction one derives therein cannot be matched
by any other service or posting. I was therefore honestly disappointed to have been
denied a fair chance to serve in an established district in my own home state. And
therefore, the deliberate false impression created about me, by some, felt like a cruel joke.
 I now began to feel convinced that in terms of my posting I had been deliberately
discriminated against. I realized I was a victim of the unhealthy politics and rivalry that
so many officers loved to indulge in. And I had so meekly succumbed to injustice without
voicing any protest whatsoever!
Admitting my own failure to have been more assertive, I realized I needed to at
least meet the Chief Secretary and the hon’ble Chief Minister and others to articulate my
grievances and express my expectations from the Government. Meeting my seniors,
therefore, who were at the helm of affairs, I explained I was prepared to do a district
assignment and that in fact it was high time that I was given the responsibility of a bigger
district which had been denied to me.
But I soon realized how naïve and stupid I appeared, in going round trying to
make my point. To put it bluntly, not only did I incur the ire of my seniors who were
annoyed that I had voiced my resentment but I was made to look plain dumb in feeling so
self righteous about my honesty and integrity which were redundant if not undesirable
attributes. The paradigms in which we worked and functioned had changed entirely and
in many ways I felt a complete misfit in the service. I began to feel a growing sense of
frustration and helplessness.
I continued to go to office but felt bitter all the time. Back at home, my little kids
didn’t allow me the luxury of time or space, to cry out my occupational woes. I would
discuss my problems with Sanjay but understandably he too didn’t have any ready
solutions to offer. I started waiting again, for Sundays to come, to sit quietly on the last
bench in the church and allow the tears to flow down silently and with it the pent up
angst.
It was at this juncture that my Department Secretary who was in Delhi
telephoned me to say that I must urgently attend a meeting in Delhi in place of him. I
rushed to Delhi where I was put up at a guest house, near JNU campus, named “Chintan”.
Chintan true to its literal meaning, I discovered, is an ideal place for a confused mind to
deliberate and think things over.
On any other night, I would perhaps have watched T.V. to while away time and
dispel my loneliness but tonight I found the peace and quiet, the ideal getaway. Free and
far from the trivial but nagging worries of home, children and daily routine I could use
the time to pray to God, to pour out all the doubts and misgivings I was having with
regard to my career.
 And I heard a voice in my heart clearly telling me that if there was anything that I
truly felt convinced about and believed it to be right, I must not be afraid to speak out. If
I have prayed over my decision and still feel strongly about it I must take the decision
and trust God absolutely, howsoever adverse the consequences.
Upon returning from Delhi I wrote a letter to my Department Secretary, with a
copy to concerned officers and elaborating my grievances, sought sanction for long leave.
But even as I sent the letter I had doubts lingering at the back of my mind. Was I
exaggerating my self righteousness when in all fairness I had no right to seek any
particular posting even if I felt discriminated? Was I running away from a task that God
had assigned me to do? I did not know but I needed to find out. And I was determined to
find that out.

Chapter 11

Following the Bible

 After I had taken leave, for some time, I was still busy doing office work from
home as no on had been put in my charge. But after I was relieved from office duties I
took one long overdue decision: let this be the best time of my life. Let me seek the
answers to all the questions that have been bothering me. How do I want to live my life
for the rest of my life. But first let me also try and change all that I find disgustful in
myself, all weaknesses that I am ashamed of, all shortcomings that I need to overcome.
For as Proverbs 16:32 says, “It is better to be patient than powerful. It is better to
win control over yourself than over whole cities.”
And let me give it my best try ever for I may never get the opportunity again.
It is said, “More things are wrought by prayer than this world can ever dream of.”
If this be actually true, I said to myself, “Let me pray as much as I can for all my needs.
Let me pray and try to achieve all that I have longed for, Let me strive to become the
kind of person I have always aspired to be, the kind of individual I know I need to and
can become.”
“And let God lead me on. Let me begin my day with sincere prayer, not a routine
prayer and Bible reading that I have done all my life but by honestly trying to seek out
each day, what is it that God really wants me to do.” I did not know how to go about it
but I knew the Bible would be my trustworthy guide.
And for the first time I started waking up early before everyone else and reading
the Bible before glancing at the day’s headlines. Memorizing the verses seriously,
marking them and repeating them in my mind all through the day. I was now praying
only for myself, praying to become physically strong, mentally alert and spiritually high,
just the way our Prof., Dada Banerjee used to exhort to us each morning at the Mussourie
Academy.
“O lord make me of some use, some purpose in life. You have given me so much
in life, so much more than others. Help me to be able to utilize the gifts that you have
given to me. Help me make the best possible use of whatever time I have been given on
this earth ….. .” and so on I prayed… silently throughout the day.
A few days later, I was greeted one morning by a disparaging news item about
myself, small but prominently in the front page of the local newspaper. It was with regard
to the leave I had applied for. The timing and tenor of the particular news item clearly
hinted that there were people and forces working against me in my career and profession.
But to my surprise I realized it did not upset me as much as it would have earlier. I was
strangely not disturbed or angry.
Right now, what I needed to do, was to consciously shut out, all professional
worries from my mind and concentrate on building my inner self. If I have even an iota of
faith I could not allow such trivialities to deter me, detract me. I remember my elder sister
asking me over the telephone, “Is the Government going to respond, take any action on
the letter you have written?” “I don’t know,” I replied ,“ For the Government, I am a
mere statistic, one more officer, even If I resign it will perhaps only mean, one officer
less.” But at the same time the words that immediately resounded in my mind, quite akin
to the pop up reminder of the computer screen, were, “But the very hairs of your head are
all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Mathew
10:30-31.
The Bible was coming alive for me!
I felt safe and reassured. I knew I was not quitting yet.
I now started enjoying the time I had for prayer and meditation. For me it was a
completely new experience. For the first time when I prayed for a long time I felt as if
someone was helping me to pray, putting words in my mouth, helping me to express my
feelings, my anguish, my joy. Was it the Holy Spirit as Paul describes in Roman 8:26-27.
“Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should
pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings
which cannot be uttered….. .” I do not know but each time after praying I would feel a
great sense of peace, peace as Lord Jesus speaks about, “Peace I leave with you. My
peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be
troubled, neither let it be afraid.” John 14:27.
I started praying for myself, for Sanjay, for our married life, for our children and
also for my small day to day worries. I began to feel God’s presence in little but definite
ways. I observed small changes in my day to day actions that no one else would have
noticed but I felt undeniably certain about them.
On many days I would leave the house planning to shop at Big Shop (My
favourite shopping haunt at Ranchi) and I would find myself at Good Books or the Good
News Literature Center in Bahu Bazaar instead, picking up some religious book. It was
as if an unknown force was nudging me towards what is good, what is right, leading me
through a virtuous cycle. I understood, what looking forward to each day means, “Every
morning He makes me eager to hear what he is going to teach me” ISAIAH 50:4
Something beautiful happened next. Since my childhood I had secretly dreamt of
playing the church organ some day. I remember while I was at IIT one of my junior
friends who was a Srilankan Christian used to play the church organ at Green Park Free
Church. She had been learning to play since she was five and I used to feel extremely
envious watching her play at church every Sunday, looking angelic in some lovely
flowing dress and with her beautiful long black hair down.
Back at home during the long semester break, I was determined to learn some
music myself. And I thought my dreams were turning into reality when out of nowhere, a
perfect dream teacher arrived in the neighbourood. He had graduated in music from an
institute in the Soviet Union and had to return to India suddenly after the break up of the
Soviet Union. But when I went to meet the teacher, he rightly advised, “eighty days is too
short a period to start learning the piano.” So there I was, learning to strum the guitar
instead and watching little Derek, our neighbour, learning baby steps and Here we go
round the mulberry bush on the piano.
In the following years there were several people to whom I requested on varying
occasions to teach me to play the piano. But somehow I never found a suitable or willing
teacher. Knowing my passion, Sanjay had gifted me with a large key board soon after
marriage and also promised that some day he would buy me a proper piano. But a teacher
was what I badly needed and was not able to find.
And now, during my leave, like a dream come true, through my friend and cousin
Rupa, I learnt of Mr. Rajdeep Singh who taught piano to school students. I went to meet
him and was disappointed again to hear his reply, “I do not usually teach senior people
like you, because fingers become inflexible with age…..If at all I decide to take you it
can be only after October ………”
I returned home feeling dejected. But I decided to speak to God about it at night.
“Father, you know I have desired this for a long time, Perhaps you do not want me to
play in the church because I am a sinful person, you know it, but you also know my
heart’s deepest desires, my most secret longings. Cleanse me completely O lord and
Please, please if it be Thy will, give me a last chance, I want to be able to play the piano
and play the church organ some day. Make it happen somehow.”
 And surprise of surprises! Mr.Rajdeep Singh called up the very next morning to
say, “Vandana I have changed my mind, you can join rightaway, Infact you can come
over this evening itself.” I did not bother to find out what made him change his mind. I
had begun dreaming already of the day I would play the church organ. But I remembered
to thank God for it.
I cried to him for help
I praised him with songs
If I had ignored my sins
The Lord would not have listened to me
But God has indeed heard me ;
He has listened to my prayer
I praise God
Because he did not reject my prayer
Or keep back his constant love from me. Psalm 66:18-20

Chapter 12

Praying to Overcome

I could not stop thanking God for granting me this last wish. Only a Father, as
God is, would have known how much I desired this gift and how much it meant to me.
Not that I later completely enjoyed the hard work and practice involved under a strict
taskmaster. But nonetheless things were seeming too good to be true. Having all my
wishes granted, my prayers answered, was almost like having a magic wand in hand. But
who ever said, Prayers do not get heard. Prayers from the heart are always heard, only not
answered every time in the manner you expect and within the deadline you audaciously
set for God.
At home, I now had two lady helpers, two young tribal girls, to look after my
children. They were efficient, had a lot of patience with the kids and were quite the ideal
companions for my children. Lily and Lalita soon became more like extended family and
Joshua sometimes even went to church with them. I knew it was a big blessing for me to
have them around for I needed the surplus time to further my spiritual quest.
I now felt sure I was beginning to make some progress. But I was not started on
any journey yet since I knew there was one final test I needed to clear before I could
consider myself, even eligible to make a beginning. One final bridge that I needed to
cross before I could feel I was in safe territory. For I was struggling with a sin only I was
aware of. I was struggling to overcome a sin of addiction. Sanjay knew about it too,
though he would perhaps say, sin, was too harsh word for it. But I knew, that my habit of
watching television could only be classified that.
To the uninitiated, it may sound a harmless pastime, innocent distraction. But an
addict would instantly relate to the familiar feeling of, how any addiction slowly gains
control over you, conquering both your mind and body. You realize you are not in control
of yourself but your compulsive habit, which sucks out all positive energy from you and
leaves you feeling weak and fatigued. An addict therefore would not need elaboration to
understand the difference between watching television for long hours occasionally as
during cricket matches or election results and watching T.V. against your own will,
despite your rational mind reminding you there are more important tasks pending. When
you are unable to tear yourself away, as if some evil force has bound you down, and you
watch T.V. without necessarily taking in the contents, sometimes all through the night,
that is the addiction, the bondage, the slavery to sin I am talking about.
And I had become slowly addicted to it, from the time of my district training
days in Beguserai, Bihar when I would keep the T.V. switched on, the whole night to
drive away the eerie silence of the circuit house where I had to stay alone. But I did not
realize I had become addicted to T.V. viewing until I began to experience its worse
forms. Every time I was anxious about some urgent work to be done, I would
unconsciously switch on the T.V and then keep procrastinating and then find myself
helpless and unable to put an end to the viewing. So often Sanjay would switch off the
T.V. and I would be annoyed yet relieved to be rescued. And the attack of the evil forces
as I called them, happened whenever I was alone. If Sanjay or children were at home I
would not have the urge to watch T.V. but the moment I was left alone I would become a
helpless victim.
I knew no one else could cure me of this. This was part of the inner struggle I had
to face alone. And in this Armageddon my only armour could be prayer, with all the
strength I had, for emerging victorious. But I noticed, that the harder I tried, to resist the
tendency, the temptation, the more hounded and plagued I became. On days that I
happened to be alone, I would go down on my knees and pray hard, determined to fight
the devil, the Satan in me. At the end of a long prayer I would rise feeling nice and pure
and strong. I remember reading the following verse so often during my prayers
“Come now, and let us reason together.”, Says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
They shall be as white as snow;
Thought they are red like crimson,
They shall be as wool,
If you are willing and obedient ,
You shall eat the good of the land;
But if you refuse and rebel, You shall be devoured by the sword,
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” ISAIAH 1:18-20

But moments after prayer, my clever, sinister mind would begin putting forth,
prima facie rational, arguments, “It’s no big deal if you remove the temptation out of
sight; true victory is, if you can resist the temptation. See if you can switch on the T.V.
and switch it off after an hour; come on just give it a try.” And being perfectly familiar,
with what that would lead to eventually, I would still be hoodwinked into trying and end
up in the trap. It happened so many times, almost every time that I was alone for the day.
I would remain watching T.V., with all my plans of utilizing the extra time to clean the
cupboards or read the world history book I had bought, having gone awry once again, till
Sanjay or the children returned home.
The only saving grace was, I had not surrendered completely to Satan yet but was
continuing to keep resisting. I would repeat to myself 1 Cor 10 :13, “No temptation has
overtaken you except such as is common to Man, but God is faithful who will not allow
you to be tempted beyond what you are able but with the temptation will also make the
way of escape that you may be able to bear it.” I remember once I wrote and put up the
beautiful words from the Bible on the mantel just over the T.V. to serve as a warning to
myself. It said, “The lamp of your body is the eye, If therefore your eye is good your
whole body will be full of light.
But if your eye is bad your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the
light that is in you is darkness, how great is your darkness.” Mathew 6:22,23
But nothing would help for long. I was now beginning to feel frustrated and I
feared I would never be able to free myself from this evil because the more I tried, the
stronger I felt, the more virulent would be the attack, quite akin to what Jesus speaks
about the return of the unclean spirit in Mathew 12 : 43-44
“When an unclean spirit goes out of a man he goes through dry places, seeking
rest, and finds none.
Then he says, I will return to my house from which I came. And when he comes
he finds it empty, swept and put in order.
Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits, more wicked than himself
and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first .So
shall it also be with this wicked generation.”
….And it would be days before I would try again to resist the devil, the
temptation, the evil force.
I was almost resigning myself to living with this weakness but as Psalm 142:3
says, “When I am ready to give up He knows what I should do.” I suddenly recalled the
Bible passage where Jesus says to his disciples, “This kind can come out by nothing but
prayer and fasting.” Mark 9: 29.
I felt this was the opportune moment to make one last honest endeavour and give
it my hundred percent. I started praying again but this time with fasting. I had never
before fasted in my life. In fact I have always greatly admired my Hindu friends many
of whom undergo fasting so frequently and so easily for various reasons and I also often
remember Minhaj my batchmate, whom we chanced to observe closely during the
strenuous Bharat Darshan( two month long touring of various states within the country
that I.A.S. probationers enjoy as part of their training ) when he so diligently kept his
Roza while discharging other duties normally. I did believe fasting with prayer could
strengthen one’s will power and help overcome one’s weaknesses apart from helping one
to experience how it feels to go to bed hungry. But I had conveniently found my own
reasons not to fast.
I am ashamed to confess but I had always used the following passage, “The kind
of fasting I want is this. Remove the chains of oppression and the yoke of injustice, and
let the oppressed go free. Share your food with the hungry and open your homes to the
homeless poor. Give clothes to those who have nothing to wear and do not refuse to help
your own relatives.” ISAIAH 58:6-7 as an excuse to avoid fasting and I now realize it
was the devil in me quoting the Bible, out of context, for his devious design.
But now for the first time, in thirty six years of my life, I was fasting and praying
for a purpose. At first I did not tell Sanjay about my decision and later when he found out
I did not tell him the actual reason for it. I felt he would not understand. But I think he
was the first to notice that my T.V. viewing reduced drastically and I was going to bed
early every night. And slowly I realized, God had cleansed me completely, weaned me
entirely from the dead habit. Whether I was alone at home now or without Sanjay for
the weekend even with the television in the bedroom I knew I could switch on the T.V.
and switch it off when I wanted to, without an ingenious remote force controlling me .
God had at last delivered me from the sin of addiction.
And not only had I been released from addiction but the twin blessing was that
now as a consequence, abundant time had been released to me, which I could make
positive and constructive use of. I now had the time to practice my piano lessons
properly, to do some reading and I finally had the time and the focused mind to write my
testimony.
 Chapter 13

The Penultimate Miracle

I had been on leave now for more than a month and life at Ranchi was beginning
to assume a pattern. I was relishing the surplus time I now had for rejuvenating my mind
and body and soul. Apart from giving me the chance to gain a spiritual insight, the
holiday also enabled me to watch and cherish Johanna, my daughter, grow up, which I
would have missed otherwise. Hearing her first words, watching her first tottering steps,
celebrating her 1st birthday with family and relatives, picking up Joshua from the
neighbourhood school every afternoon and listening to his funny anecdotes on the way
back; I had not realized spending time with children and doing everyday chores could
give so much joy, could be so fulfilling.
Never before had I thought of thanking the Almighty sincerely as I did so now for
children, for good health, for a happy family life; for life’s real blessings, true mercies.
Papa was in good health and he could now visit many of our relatives who stayed close
by, which made his days more happening and thereby happier. Ratna would drop in
sometimes with her children. My in laws also lived close by, therefore Joshua and
Johanna could frequently visit their paternal grandparents also. These little joys enriched
our daily life and I often told Sanjay,” My transfer to Ranchi, my disenchantment with
the posting and the consequent leave and the resultant quality family time, everything has
ultimately worked out for the best.
I also relished one other thing. Attending Sunday service at my former church, the
St Paul’s Cathedral. The church was at a stone’s throw from the place where I now lived
so I could walk down to the church and also amble down memory lane, because I got the
chance to take a long peek at the house and garden in the church campus where we lived
many years ago, with my grandparents. I cherished such moments of unadulterated
solitude when I could almost speak aloud my thoughts to God.
During this time, one of my seniors whom I met at a gathering asked me,
“Vandana why are you sitting on leave, you are wasting your earned leave. Plus you
don’t enjoy any facilities either. You should have spoken to … ….. ” Was Sir hinting at
the rickshaw rides he must have spotted me enjoying, between my shopping on the main
road? I wondered.
I was quite tempted to adopt a holier than thou stance and reply, “I am working
on my soul Sir.” But coming from a junior, it would have sounded too impudent if not
ridiculously pompous and good sense prompted me to remain tongue tied. But I wished I
had at least told my senior, “The Government must in all seriousness consider allowing a
mid career leave to anyone who needs to put his tattered spirits and life in order.”
I forgot to mention one other important change that took place while I was still
working as Director Primary Education and had not gone on leave. Sanjay too got
transferred to Ranchi and joined us in Ranchi around July 2007.
His transfer out of Jamshedpur was long overdue, but Sanjay was expecting, as
per rule to be transferred to an A class station ( meaning Delhi, Mumbai ….. ). Ranchi
certainly figured no where in the list of expected stations but to our complete surprise and
happiness here he was with us to complete the family.
It is extremely rare in our service for couples to be posted together for long
tenures but without any effort on our part, everything was working out to our advantage.
As if some divine forces were conspiring on our behalf. I was relieved that with Sanjay
now with me, not only would the household burden be halved but we would be able to
enjoy the occasional eating out and movie watching in the new multiplexes coming up in
the fast modernizing state capital.
Sanjay joined office in the first week of July. On my way back from office I
would drop in at his office at times so we could return together and also catch up with
each others’ day’s events in peace before entering the (pleasing) cacophony of our home
and kids.
Sanjay had looked quite happy when he first got transferred to Ranchi, but I
observed that after about a week or two Sanjay no longer looked the relaxed self that he
had always been in Jamshedpur. I noticed that he would forever be complaining about
one thing or another, the inconveniences he felt in Ranchi, the work culture at office, the
traffic jams, the power cuts, our small house, the lack of good servants; little things
would upset him greatly .
But knowing my husband a little better now with ten years together I realized, it
was something else that was bothering him, his constant annoyance and incessant
complaints was rooted elsewhere. Putting two and two together from what I heard his
colleagues mention I discovered that it was his office environment that was making him
so tense and worked up. He and perhaps many others were facing certain problems under
their new boss (which unfortunately I am not at liberty to elaborate) and the stress was
palpable.

Sanjay had in the past also never been very communicative about any problems or
anxieties he had to face, be it professional or personal. He had always preferred to
shoulder his cross alone, not subscribing to the view that sharing your problems does not
necessarily mean transferring your burden upon another. But this time I could sense that
the problem was far more serious and I could not ignore it because I could see it was
beginning to affect Sanjay’s health.
After the first heart attack, not only was Sanjay himself more careful about his
health but I too had learnt to raise alarm at the first tension lines on his face. And
therefore neither of us could or wanted to take the problem lightly. We deliberated over
the matter and decided that he must meet his Chief Commissioner at Patna and explaining
all the office problems, request for a transfer although that would mean Sanjay having to
leave home and family at Ranchi. But nothing mattered more than his life and health.
On returning from Patna, Sanjay’s health took a sudden downturn and he
complained of increased uneasiness and breathlessness. Sanjay’s trauma was now
beginning to worry me more than I could handle and I felt relieved therefore when Sanjay
decided to take medical leave and rest for two weeks before resuming work. This was in
the first week of September’07.
 For the first time in our careers, for different reasons and compelling
circumstances we were together on a long leave and I had a foreboding something
special was on the way.
Since Sanjay was required to remain as stress free as possible, we decided to
spend the time in a manner completely different from any that we had spent before. We
first began seeking out Sanjay’s long lost school friends and finding out (after a gap of
twenty years) how were they doing. So one morning we were meeting a lawyer friend,
another afternoon having lunch with a businessman and a third evening having coffee
with a coffee seller friend. But what was common was the warmth with which they all
met and the genial reunion did a lot of good to Sanjay.
We then went to our old college, St Xavier’s college and chanced to meet Father
Debrower who had taught us physics and who looked to be still going strong at eighty
plus. We also went to meet Father Prabhu, whom we knew at Jamshedpur and who was
now at St.Albert’s Theological college. I got a chance to view the interiors of the
beautiful heritage like building I had always admired from the outside and also
discovered to my delight some very rare books in the library.
Then Sanjay took me to Satya Bharati, the center adjoining St. Mary’s Cathedral
we frequented so much during college days for cards and prayer books. Nothing about
the place had altered much except that it seemed more vibrant and we managed to find a
few religious books we had been hunting for.
Without spelling it aloud, we could both sense something significant was on the
way, for God was leading us through untreaded territories in subtle ways, through the
places and people we were unthinkingly seeking out.
But although we were spending a peaceful time at home and outdoors, Sanjay still
did not seem entirely at peace with himself. His leave period was getting almost over but
he did not look or feel mentally strong to join back office.
How I wanted to tell him to put his anxieties before God, that everything would
be O.K. I wanted to tell Sanjay that we needed to trust Him completely and seek His
guidance. And pray together for courage to face situations and circumstances not in our
hands to change.
But I also knew, things could not be hastened by my desiring. Things would
happen at the opportune time and in the manner God wanted, neither before nor after. But
I could definitely continue to pray for God’s mercy.
 A man’s heart plans his ways but the Lord directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9 I was
made to acknowledge a third time.

21st September, 2007

On that particular morning, at 9’ O clock while the rest of the house was up and
awake and Joshua had already left for school, I realized Sanjay was still not up. I asked
him if he was not feeling alright for his face looked tired and tense.
He said, “No, I am feeling a little uneasy. I could not even sleep well.”
We were uncertain what to do but then decided it would be best to get a checkup
done at Apollo Hospital, although Sanjay had just recently seen his doctor. Sanjay’s good
friend and senior Pankaj whom I called up also advised us the same, so we reached the
hospital without further dilly dally. Dr. Neeraj Prasad, whom we consulted was
thoroughly familiar with Sanjay’s history of heart problem for he himself had done the
previous angioplasty. Examining Sanjay he suggested, an angiography would be best,
under the circumstances, to allay all doubts since the problem of uneasiness had been
persisting although he felt confident, the doctor added, “there should not be any blockade
so soon after the previous angioplasty ( three and half years ago).”
As Sanjay was wheeled into the angiography room and I stood alone in the
adjoining room, in front of a computer, to see the report onscreen, I felt engulfed by a
sudden feeling of sadness. Perhaps it was a result of being hungry and tired at 3.00 in the
afternoon but never before had I felt so lonely and completely abandoned, not even
during Ma’s long illness. And the ominous sense of Déjà vu, as memories of the first time
I was in the same hospital after Sanjay’s heart attack flashed through my mind.
Everything seemed to portend something sinister. I wished I had some friends or family
or at least office people around me. I was not feeling strong enough today.
But more things were to be faced on that long unending day.
The doctor was as much astounded as I was (aghast) by the angiography results.
There was a 99% blockade in the circumflex and our visit to the doctor had been, just on
time. Any undue stress could have triggered a heart attack and with his weak heart
condition after the first attack Sanjay would possibly not have survived the second attack.
Angioplasty followed and I rang up Sanjay’s family to come over for the evening as
Sanjay would have to be in the Critical Care Unit (C.C.U.). I had to return home to
Joshua and Johanna although thankfully, Joshua being quite attached to his Nana (
maternal grandfather) I could leave him with Papa for long hours without having to
greatly worry.
I needed to hang around the C.C.U. till Sanjay’s brother and father came over.
By late evening, I was feeling dead tired, having walked up and down the hospital,
several times and having waited for hours outside the CCU entrance. I was relived
therefore when I saw Ajit (Sanjay’s brother ) and father finally arriving. I took Ajit to the
C.C.U. room and after he had spoken for a few minutes and left, I waited near the door
for my father in law to come in so I could point out Sanjay’s bed from a distance.
Suddenly from where I stood, I saw Sanjay sit up on his bed, say something to the
nurse and then collapse. I saw three or four nurses and the doctor rush towards him, then
try to resuscicate him, putting all kinds of machines around him. I watched helplessly as I
saw another doctor telephone nervously for Dr. Neeraj to come over. As minutes passed,
my heart stopped beating in fear. One of the nurses spotted me standing outside and came
up to shut the door on my face, leaving me alone with my fears, to imagine the worst.
But after a few minutes, that had seemed like eternity, the lady doctor in charge
came out to brief me, “Sanjay’s B.P. had dipped very low but he is O.K. now, in medical
terms, but Dr. Neeraj will be coming over shortly. You can wait.”
Late in the night, Dr. Neeraj Prasad arrived at the CCU ( I truly appreciate how
most doctors work so hard and have to rush at odd hours in case of any emergency,
sacrificing so many personal commitments we never come to know about ). But what he
said disturbed me further.
Although I did not comprehend fully the medical terminologies, the essence of
what the doctor explained was that Sanjay had some serious genetic problems with regard
to his arteries. His arteries were not only exceptionally narrow but a supporting artery
divided into only two instead of three putting more pressure on the remaining arteries
plus his heart was working in a limited capacity after the first attack which compounded
the problem. Therefore nothing could be definitely said whether Sanjay would pull
through or not, until some more time.
I could not help breaking down before my father in law as the doctor further
added, “I am sorry if I have scared you, but you must give me 48 hours before I can say
anything, Sanjay is a young man so much life before him……”
I returned home sober with the grim reality facing us. I was too tired to even say
my prayers properly. “Lord give me the strength to bear whatever awaits us tomorrow,
Have mercy on my family, and forgive us our sins.” I was feeling too distraught to pray
coherently but I suppose God, doesn’t need the language of words when the grief and
outpouring of the heart is real.
Next morning I reached the hospital early. My heart leaped with joy on seeing
Sanjay sitting quite relaxed on the bed and with an unexpectedly warm welcoming smile.
What he said next was to surprise me further. “Get me the small black Bible we bought
recently.”
“Sanjay, you don’t need to read the Bible to please me,” I replied. “I am not
giving any lectures this time.”
“Vandana, you are mistaken. I am a changed man now, I thought over many
things last night. I shall even be going to church regularly and we shall also begin praying
together.” “I realize God has given me two wake up calls. I did not deserve a second but I
still got it. But I will most definitely not get a third.” Just hearing the word God(uttered
with reverence) from Sanjay’s lips was no less than music to my ears for I knew only
God’s hands could have led Sanjay to the beautiful land of belief and hope.
Three days later Sanjay was discharged from the hospital. We never discussed
what went on in our individual minds that fateful night. Perhaps someday we shall. But
on the day we returned from the hospital as per Sanjay’s wish we first went to the prayer
tower at St. Mary’s Cathedral campus to pray and offer thanks for granting us a new lease
of life. And the following night we started our prayers together, as a couple and as a
family and with it our spiritual preparation. I still cherish what Sanjay said the first day
he read the Bible on coming back from the hospital. “I think this proverb fits me aptly,”
he said,
“My son do not despise the chastening of the Lord,
Nor detest His correction
For whom the Lord loves He corrects,
Just as the father the son in whom he delights.” Proverbs 3:11,12
More than two months have now gone by. We had both taken leave from our
office till November end (2007) and we shall be resuming our duties in a week’s time.
Both of us still remain as imperfect human beings as before. Our day to day life
is still embellished with arguments and disagreements. And we still relish worldly
pleasures like watching movies and spending time with friends. But the important
realization we have both made is that there is life beyond our friends, family and career.
 We all share an unmistakable link with our Creator and the sooner we discover
and acknowledge that bondage, the sooner all things seem to fall into place. I read this
morning, what St. Alphonsus used to often say, “Contradictions, sickness, scruples,
spiritual dryness and interior or exterior torments are but the chisel which God uses to
carve His statues for paradise.” And it seems so transparently clear to me now. What
seemed misfortunes to us initially were in reality graces!
We had banished God and religion from our married life and with it our inner
peace and happiness. But through the events in our life, our marriage was strengthened
and we were blessed to be reunited to God.
We were like recalcitrant children but God kept knocking till we opened the door
to Him. For God was determined to restore our spiritual life (not because of our feeble
attempts at being righteous but) because He continues to seek out and shower His
abundant mercy on His creations.

And I realized God had granted me my second deepest desire also,

blessing our married life with His abiding presence. We may have been ten years
late in welcoming God into our married life but that does not diminish the joy for us, for
being reconciled with God we are now bonded like never before.
This is my whole story; about a wish granted, about an answered prayer. We now
wait for God’s plan to be revealed in our lives, to find the predestined path or paths, to be
walked, individually or together. And we pray to be prepared for the moment God says,
“Move.” But while we prepare ourselves, with all humility, so as not to give up the
journey half way, I thought it well to share my experiences with my young friends for I
strongly feel, all such testimonies need to be shared to reinforce our own belief in God
and to strengthen each others’ belief in our living God who works miracles in our lives
everyday.
I was thinking last night how to end this personal account. This morning (24th
Nov 2007) when I read The Saint Companions for Each day the words instantly struck a
chord in my heart. The reflection at the end of today’s chapter reads,
“………. The cross is the gate through which God entered definitely into Man’s
history -----and remains in it. The cross is the gate through which God ceaselessly enters
into our lives.”
( Blessed James Alberione)
 In a different and subtle way perhaps but undoubtedly, for Sanjay and I too,
significantly, the story all began with a tiny little cross and by God’s infinite grace will
now remain united in it for ever.