God’s Surname

What is God’s surname? The question had never occurred to me. I’m familiar with the 1000 names of major Hindu deities, the 99 names of Allah, and the names of Biblical divinities; but have never heard of a surname of any deity, Hindu or non-Hindu.

Ram and Krishna were both kshatriyas, yet they are not called Sri Ram Singh or Sri Krishna Singh Yadav. Ravan was a brahmin, but wasn’t called Ravan Chaturvedi. Proper names sufficed, surnames- an appendage invented by man- were unnecessary.

May I come up, please, he asked, didn’t wait for my reply, and rushed up, as usual, to my study on the first floor.

Have you finished your work? He asked.

Of course, my work is finished as soon as you enter my study, I said.

I know that. Let us now play. Look, I’ve a big truck. A real truck; smoke comes out from behind when it runs. See for yourself; he held a quick demo. He was thrilled with his newest toy- a gift he had received the day before on his fifth birthday.

I put aside the book I was reading, and he led me to the veranda. Before ‘play’ began, he said, ‘I love you, Uncle.’ The little master manipulator knows how to wrap Uncle around his little finger, and get him to do just anything.

I replied, ‘I love you, too, Yug Bhatt.’

No, I’m not Yug Bhatt, I’m Yug Sachan!’

But yesterday, you were Yug Bhatt!?

Now, I’m five; and now I’m Yug Sachan; he declared!

My Dad is Varun Sachan, Mom is Payal Bhatt Sachan, and I’m Yug Sachan. Got it? Don’t forget.

Do you know how far this truck can go?

No, I don’t.

He had left behind the remote control at his home, and manually manoeuvred to send the truck rushing forward.

Wow, very impressive, I said.

Let us now play ‘goal.’

But, that’s a truck, not a football!

Stand with your legs apart; like this, he gave a demo. That’s your goal-post. If my truck runs past it, I score a goal.

We played goal for a while. I stopped a goal or two, but let others score. He was thrilled.

You lost, he declared.

Time-out, please; I requested.

I had a mild cold, thought I might sneeze, and went to the adjoining room to fetch a kerchief from the wardrobe. He followed suit. At the puja alcove, two-feet above floor-level, he noticed the incense sticks which spouse had lit a few minutes ago by for Makara Sankranti puja.

He put down his truck, took off his crocs, sat on the stool in front of the puja alcove, folded his palms, and said, ‘Thank you, God, for giving us food.’

He noted me standing near with a bemused smile on my face, and continued with his prayer, ‘God Sachan, Thank you.’

Who told you God’s name is God Sachan?

No one, I just know. And you are Uncle Sachan.

Yug Sachan had comprehended and imbibed Advaita Vedanta philosophy, and had delivered his first sermon to Uncle Sachan!

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