I Am Saved by Arya Singh (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖

Put on a shelf? I was crafted to live on a shelf? When my brothers and sisters get renown for their beauty in the temples of India, I get shoved on a shelf? I am a "murti" and for those of you who didn't catch that, I'm an indian statue of a god or goddessin this case Goddess Lakshmi or the hindu Goddess of light. Where I come from I am revered as as a goddess and treated like one. But here? I was no more than an ornament, a trinket to be toyed with as pleased. I was made with such care. my artist spent nights and days with me, talking to me, painting me, paying so much attention to the details of my life. When he was finished with me he made sure that my smile was always pleasant and my eyes shined bright with joy. He loved me.Then one morning, he did my "arti" silently and placed "chandan" or a chalky paste of sandalwood on my head, then lifted me. Why was he so quiet today? Where was he taking me? he had never lifted me. I was so confused, but couldn't express it because of my glossily painted eyes. He placed me in a box lined with cushion and protective bubble wrap. Was I to leave him? Depression fell over me, but my body stayed in its locked position of merriment.

He closed the box up and I could hear the rips of tape that he pulled around it. i wasn't getting out any time soon. The box was warm but dark. Lonely. No one spoke to me or looked at me. Why was I put through this kind of torture? I fell asleep ready to cry. Curse this life, all this emotion and not one way to convey it. I couldn't tell where I was when I woke up next, but I'll never forget it. The crashes of what seemed like other boxes on top of mine, and men kicking the box to move me. i was rattled to the point of no return, tank God for this protective layer or i would be dead.

I thought they would never stop moving me until I hit the floor one more time and just stayed there. The tape was slowly being ripped off and I was so thankful. I remember thinking, a bath and a nice place to sit and a home. Finally a home.

When I was taken out of the box, I was shocked at my discovery. it was a building full of wooden things and rubber patches on the floor. Nothing like my home; no, this was a place full of murtis just like me. Even some of our Chinese and Nepali cousins were there; Some thing was definitely wrong. i looked at the woman who tried to take me out of the box. even she didn't look normal to me. She was paler than anyone I had ever seen and she hurt me. She yanked me out by my arms then swung me onto a stupid shelf. No bath, no nothing; I felt so dirty as I pushed back grime with my feet when i was put up there, and then was left to collect dust. I was overlooking those rubber patches on the floor. During my first few days there, i over heard a woman who walked in calling this place a "spiritual center." This was so far from it. This was taking the beautiful cultures of other countries, smashing them together like bugs to pavement and calling it a "spiritual center."

This place did n't give any spiritual enlightenment, these people had no idea what any of my cousins or i stood for. But people came and fell for the convoluted facts. Stupid people. i wanted to wiggle myself off that shelf and onto one of their heads. Maybe that would knock some sense into them. i stayed on that shelf day in and day out for what seemed like centuries, until a woman came into the center one day. She was of a skin color I hadn't seen in ages, brown, and wore a suit with her hair pulled back. She almost looked like them, if it weren't for the "chandan" on her forhead. She came in and inspected the facility. but what was there to inspect, the dirt on the floors, the grime that had built up on me, or the lack of substance they gave to any of us? I could tell by the look on her face, she was disgusted. The employees came over to service herif only to get an earful of complaints about the way the center was kept. I was so excited. Finally, someone saying what I have felt for so long.

If I could've jumped, I would've. She yelled for the manager and sent the staff scrambling, this was the most entertainment I had gotten in my life. As the employees disappeared, the manager walked up. A tubby, pale man with the same gray suit on every day.He probably didn't bathe either.

He walked with a sense of arrogance to the woman as she ripped his head off, voicing her concern about everything from the misconstrued information they spewed here to the state of the center, which was need I remind you, horrible. i felt myself swell with pride at her ranting, I am not sure if it physically showed, but I was very proud.The fat man did nothing to contest her, She was obviously higher on the corporate ladder than him.

She took out a notebook from her purse and ripped a sheet of paper off it. She flashed a shiny badge at him and yelled,"YOU HAVE THREE DAYS TO GET OUT OF HERE! I'M SHUTTING THIS PLACE DOWN!" My heart began to ring with excitment. She then presumed to take another notepad out of the bag and scribbled on it, then handed the manager a strip from it saying,"And you can start by packing each murti and statue up in my car. This place isn't worthy of them." Truer words were never spoken.

i remarked to myself as I watched her yell at them for hurting us as they moved us, then making them do it again a million times before moving on to the next. She made me so proud. As i was taken down and put into her van with the utmost care, I only remember being so thanful and delightfully deviod of the dust that once surrounded me. I could almost breathe again if it weren't for the cake of it on my face.

she took all of us homethen one by one gently pulled us out of the car, asking our permission first. She was talking to us. She understands.

When she got to me, she sat down on the floor of her car, placing me in her lap as if I were her child. She took the corner of her shirt and wiped the dust off my face then spoke to me. "You are okay now. Just a bath and I know where you will go." She had a place for me.

Excitement tapped my stone spine as she moved me to a sink where she washed me with the perfect temperature of water. She lifted me by my legs and placed me on another shelf, this time next to all my cousins and bowed to me. "Bless me, so that you will always protect me." I wanted to cry. I wanted to kneel down and hug her and tell her that she was our hero. But my stone frame refused to let me. So I just looked at her with my newly cleaned glossy eyes and tried to speak with them and tell her that she saved me. i hope she got the message.

Publication Date: 04-24-2010

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