Aarush and His Beloved Prabhu

In the Eyes of My Son, I Saw Prabhu Jagannath

I still remember the first time my two years old son, Aarush, folded his tiny hands in front of a photo of Lord Jagannath. There was no formal instruction, no ritualistic teaching. Just an instinctive act—pure, sincere, and unexpected.

That night, as I watched him from the corner of the room, I felt something shift inside me.
He closed his eyes tightly and whispered, “Thank you, Jagu Dada.”

It wasn’t a prayer for toys or a wish for something he had seen on television. It wasn’t even something we had told him to do. It was a small gesture of gratitude, born not out of habit but from a space I could only call divine.

Since then, it has become his nightly ritual. No matter how his day goes—whether he trips and cries, or plays endlessly and forgets to eat—he always remembers this one act.

Before closing his eyes at night, Aarush walks up to Lord Jagannath’s picture, folds his palms, bows his head slightly, and says, “Thank you, Jagu Dada.”

And every time, my heart grows a little quieter, a little fuller.

🌊 A Journey to Puri

Some months ago, we made a journey to Puri, the sacred home of Lord Jagannath. I wasn’t sure how a temple so vast and ancient would feel to a child who had only seen its image in photos.

We entered the temple just before sunset. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and ghee lamps, the chants echoing like old stories being told again. I carried Aarush in my shoulder through the crowd.

Then something magical happened.

As soon as we reached the Garbha Griha, and Aarush saw the large idol of Prabhu Jagannath —eyes wide, smile unchanging—he froze. Not in fear, not in confusion, but in a stillness so profound, it caught me off guard.

He climbed down from my arms slowly, stood there holding my hand tightly, and simply smiled.
It wasn’t the kind of smile that comes from excitement—it was soft, gentle, and full of something I couldn’t describe. It was like watching a soul recognize another soul.

And that moment… that single moment… felt holier than anything else around us.

🌙 Nights of Whispers

Since that day, his bond with Lord Jagannath has deepened. Sometimes at night, I hear Aarush mumble before bed—his own little conversations with the Lord.

“Thank you for this beautiful day.”
“Keep everyone well and healthily.”

And I, his father—struggling to find direction through the chaos of life—listen quietly. He reminds me that faith doesn’t always come through reading scriptures or visiting priests.
Sometimes, it arrives in the quiet voice of a child, thanking God for ordinary joys.

💬 And So, This Story Ends with a Beginning…

That small prayer, that tiny folded hand… has become a symbol in our home. A reminder that no matter what we lose, as long as we can be grateful, we still have something worth living for.

Aarush doesn’t just believe in Prabhu Jagannath.

He talks to Him.
He smiles at Him.
He trusts Him.

And in return, I believe Lord Jagannath smiles back through him—every single night.

Faith doesn’t wait for age or rituals. Sometimes, it chooses the smallest hearts to remind us of the biggest truths.