Aaryan and Gurudwara/Church

The world feels strangely beautiful as I watch my three-year-old son sitting on a swing in Empress Gardens, happily spinning stories of his own. His eyes light up when I tell him, on our way back home, that there is a Gurudwara nearby and we could stop there for a while.

I know he wants to buy a kada and will be delighted if he finds one. What I do not know then is that the small visit will open a string of questions in the days to come.

A few evenings later, we are sitting together on the terrace, watching the noisy street below — people passing by, scooters weaving through traffic, vendors calling out in the distance.

Suddenly Aaryan asks,

“Baba, why do we go to Gurudwara?”

“To pray to God,” I say.

“And temple?”

“Same.”

I pause for a moment, sensing where this conversation might go.

“Then why Gurudwara?”

I search for an answer simple enough for a child.

“Well, there are many places where people pray. Some people go to temples and call themselves Hindus. Some go to Gurudwaras and are Sikhs. Christians go to churches, and Muslims go to mosques.”

I expect him to lose interest halfway through.

Instead he asks,

“What is a church? Baba, tell me the story of church.”

I smile despite myself. Once a question settles into his mind, it rarely leaves easily.

So I tell him, as simply as I can, about Jesus Christ, about the people around him, about kindness and suffering, and about how a faith slowly began around his life.

By now his eyes are growing heavy with sleep.

“Baba,” he murmurs softly, “will you take me to the church?”

“Certainly,” I say.

But before I finish speaking, I can already see sleep gathering gently over your face.