Valli is our reincarnated life and Deivayaanai is our soul.When our son Mahar was born, we had made a resolution that we would visit Palani temple and offer his birth hair to Lord Murugan. So here we were, in India, on a road trip from Madurai to Palani. From our car, Mahar watched hundreds of people walking by. Ramakrishna, our driver explained to Mahar, “These pilgrims have resolved to walk from their homes to Palani temple. They carry their offerings on their head and go barefoot. The atheist in Mahar must have winked in disbelief, thinking, Ha, ha, how can Murugan call? Statues don’t speak. Ever since he turned two, Mahar had offered consistent protest to my daily pooja. Normally, Mahar would have cross-examined Ramakrishna on his theory about “when Lord Murugan calls.” Instead, he watched the endless stream of pilgrims and asked him curiously, “Do they eat, get water to drink, use rest stops? Do ghosts and goblins bother them at night?” Mahar’s resistance saddened me but Ehud, ever the optimist, always said, “Don’t worry, India will work on him.” My husband Ehud and I had spoken to him softly as well as sternly about his opposition, but nothing had come of these conversations. We entered the temple office to see if someone could help us.
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