It was a sleepy Friday afternoon. The sun was hard in giving audience to his subjects, starting signs of a Delhi winter.
Aromas of South India wafted from the kitchen while she pinched moments in between to catch updates on the television. Somewhere in the middle, she realized that she was not alone in the drawing room. There was a faint shadow across the television. She turned back in trepidation, only to encounter Him, sitting there patiently right at the balcony door, staring at her intently. She was dumb struck for a second but quickly collected her wits about her. Not knowing what to do, she quietly opened the main door and walked out, latching the grilled door behind her. He sat there wondering why she was behaving so strangely while she, along with the neighbors who had collected there by then, stared back at Him incredulously. He looked around for a few minutes, by this time bored with the not-so-happening drawing room and its memsahib, who seemed not to want to spend time with Him.
She realized by then that He must have been attracted to the balcony because of the smell from the kitchen. He walked, sure-footed, towards his destination. He stood at the kitchen door, with arms stretched up, like He was about to practice ‘Yogasana’ and inspected the dishes with a critical eye. He turned back, perhaps in disdain, and opened the refrigerator. As the spectators on the other side of the door wondered what He might loot from inside, He picked up a packet of flattened rice and quietly walked out through the balcony.
She has been convinced ever since that it was a sign from God asking her to visit her usual Hanuman temple. Though He has visited countless other apartments ever since that day, she prides on the fact that He has never ever gone up so many floors ever to visit anyone and pick up, of all things on Earth, flattened rice which is a favorite offering to God, apparently.
The only question I had for her was this – Did He close the door of the refrigerator before walking out?