The Sunscreen Song

Wear Sunscreen or the Sunscreen Speech are the common names of an essay titled "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young" written by Mary Schmich and published in the Chicago Tribune as a column in 1997, but often erroneously attributed to a commencement speech by author Kurt Vonnegut.

An awkward letter to Mr. G.O.D

Dear God,

Hi! Would have asked 'how do you do' but since you are the Almighty you must be doing well. I am sure this letter will find you in the best of forms and idols and books and hearts. I have much to discuss with you, but I think some introduction is owed, since you deal with so many people and I can think of no reason why you'd suddenly recollect which 'child' of yours I am. So, in a bid to save you from any rummaging through the shelves – I am Neha. I'm someone who seeks peace and is ready to pray. I think that's enough because other things do not really matter.

I must also make a confession here, for to confide in you or to pray to you, I have to say a few odd things even if you are the Hon'ble know-it-all. (no offence.. all reverence). I must also admit that till sometime back I never really believed in you.  No, it was not a mark of rebellion or a feat to feel proud of. It was merely an honest answer to a basic question – an honest assessment of my natural beliefs and inclination of psyche. It was not that I didn't think about you. I pondered about you quite a lot and after lot of subconscious thinking during my childhood days I had came to the conclusion that try as I might, I would not be able to believe in you. No offence meant. But I had the belief that you are more of a 'need' than a reality... a 'need-based' entity for those who had nothing else to hold on to. So, I categorized myself as being an atheist and for many years you really didn't figure much in my life. I was a happy atheist albeit not a loyal one. I remember a time when I used to be late to school and the huge iron gates were about to be banged shut - I would throw open the challenge and say, "God, if you exist, you will not let me get punished today for arriving late to school." It was hardly a prayer-- rather more of a selfish dare for you to bite the bait. Needless to say, once I'd escape the punishment, you would slip my mind. And I'd be in my happy world again. Kids do that, you know.

As I grew up some more and as the natural apprehensions in the latter part of my adolescence showed up, which also encompassed more of reading, learning and interpretation (thereby inculcating in me better intellect), I was tempted to subscribe to the notion that there has to be, after all, a method to this madness. The thought was pacific to me. Also because by then I had already challenged you in hundreds of frivolous ways and each time you had come out victorious. (I don't know if that was a sign, I for one never really took it seriously). And thereby I realised that I was turning into an agnostic.

You see, it was not for me to choose what stand I took when it came to you. It was about rubbernecking inside of me and asking the abyss of my core, 'Hey you, do you now believe?"; which, I must admit sometimes echoed back and asked me instead, "Hey you, are you in need?"

I've found myself there a few times these couple of years. In need. Writing – nay, praying to you. It took me a while to trust the whole concept of praying. I am like a kid who has been coaxed into trying something, but when he finds people are staring at him, gets shy and hides behind the curtains.

I do want some things to remain cryptic, so I don't seek to seek. What exactly I wish for, I know not. But I do wish to be peaceful. I want my paranoia about letting people come close subside. I want to be healed. I come to you not with specifics; I am not ready for that as yet. But I am ready to pray. Is it a good beginning?

Love,

Me.

PS: to be continued..if need be.