Talking to Idols

A few days after my conversion, I came across a statue of Ganesha in a bookstore that I frequented. A wave of bliss washed over me, leaving me overwhelmed. I hastily left the store, unsure of what had just happened.

The same blissfull sensation filled me on my next visit to the bookstore. Unaware of any irony, I whispered to the statue of Ganesh, "I can't stay. I just swore to have no other gods." And so, I stayed away from that store for a very long time.

A decade later, still bearing the scars of rejection from two Jewish communities and feeling utterly lost, I found myself once again in that same bookstore, gazing at a different image of Ganesha. "You wanted to talk before," I whispered desperately, "I'm here now. Please, talk to me." He remained silent, projecting no feeling of connection except a sense of his goodwill.

Many more years have passed, and Ganesha's benevolent feelings toward me remain palpable each time I see an image of him. Yet, I've come to realize that he will never speak to me again. He respects my choice. He saw me at my best self then, and he wants me to be my best self, my Jewish self, again.

By my bed, stands a tiny statue of Ganesha with enormous ears. Each night, I look at it, feeling his enduring goodwill, and I promise that I will strive to be my best self.

And if it seems that I talk to idols, so be it.