God, our Creator, has stored within our minds and personalities

Host:
The monsoon evening was alive with sound — rain drumming against the tin roofs, the wind moving through palm leaves like whispered music, the smell of wet earth rising like incense from the ground. A small temple courtyard on the edge of Chennai glowed under oil lamps, their flames trembling but persistent.

Beneath the old banyan tree, where countless pilgrims had once knelt, Jack and Jeeny sat cross-legged on the cool stone floor. Between them, a small brass bowl of water reflected the trembling light — like a mirror for unseen thoughts.

Behind them, carved into the temple wall, the words of A. P. J. Abdul Kalam had been etched into marble:

“God, our Creator, has stored within our minds and personalities, great potential strength and ability. Prayer helps us tap and develop these powers.”

Jeeny: her voice low, reverent “You know, there’s something profoundly human about that idea. That prayer isn’t about asking for things — it’s about awakening what’s already inside us.”

Jack: watching the rain beyond the archway “So prayer’s just psychology with incense?”

Jeeny: smiles faintly “If you want to be cynical about it, maybe. But I think Kalam meant something deeper — that divinity isn’t distant. It’s embedded. We just forget how to listen.”

Jack: “Or maybe we just invented ‘God’ to explain that hidden potential — gave the mystery a name so it felt less lonely.”

Jeeny: turns to him, eyes gentle but firm “And yet, you still came here tonight.”

Jack: chuckles softly “Curiosity isn’t faith, Jeeny.”

Jeeny: “No. But it’s how faith begins.”

Host:
The rain softened, turning from thunder to rhythm. Somewhere nearby, the faint sound of a devotional song rose, sung by a woman’s voice — tender, imperfect, infinite. The temple bells chimed once, and their echo drifted across the courtyard like a call from another time.

Jeeny: “Kalam always saw faith as an engine, not an escape. He believed prayer wasn’t about weakness — it was about alignment. You don’t beg the universe to move; you synchronize with it.”

Jack: leans back, thoughtful “Alignment, huh? Sounds like meditation rebranded.”

Jeeny: “No — meditation quiets the mind. Prayer speaks from it. When you pray, you’re not escaping yourself; you’re engaging the deepest part of yourself — the part that still believes in possibility.”

Jack: quietly “Possibility doesn’t need a god.”

Jeeny: gently “No. But it needs reverence. Even for the science you love.”

Jack: smiles faintly “Touché.”

Host:
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the courtyard — the tree’s sprawling roots, the carved stone deities, the glistening rain. For a heartbeat, everything looked alive.

Jeeny: her voice soft, almost to herself “Kalam was a scientist, but he still prayed. I think that’s what makes his words powerful. He didn’t separate logic from love, or intellect from awe. He saw them as partners.”

Jack: leans forward, intrigued now “And what does prayer develop then? What power?”

Jeeny: “Conviction. Clarity. The ability to act without fear. When you pray, you’re speaking to the part of you that remembers you’re more than circumstance.”

Jack: “So, prayer as self-communication?”

Jeeny: “Exactly. Like checking in with your soul’s compass.”

Jack: after a pause “Then maybe the divine isn’t up there — it’s here.” He taps his chest lightly.

Jeeny: smiles softly “Maybe that’s what God has been trying to tell us all along.”

Host:
The sound of the rain grew distant, as if moving away toward another village. The oil lamps flickered lower, their light reflecting in the bowl of water — two faces mirrored in ripples, one skeptical, one believing, both changed by reflection.

Jack: “You know, when I was a kid, I used to pray — not because I believed, but because I was scared. I’d whisper to the ceiling, just in case someone was listening. Now I realize, I was listening to myself.”

Jeeny: “And did it help?”

Jack: after a moment “Sometimes. It didn’t change the world. But it changed how I faced it.”

Jeeny: “Then it worked.”

Jack: smiles faintly “So prayer isn’t about answers. It’s about endurance.”

Jeeny: “And transformation. The quiet kind — the kind no one sees.”

Host:
A breeze moved through the courtyard, carrying the scent of wet jasmine and burnt wick. The temple bells rang again — three times this time — their sound lingering like the heartbeat of something eternal.

Jeeny: “You see, Kalam’s faith wasn’t blind. It was creative. He believed God made us co-authors — that prayer isn’t submission, but participation.”

Jack: “Participation in what?”

Jeeny: “Creation. Every act of kindness, every spark of innovation, every moment you choose to do good — that’s prayer in motion.”

Jack: nodding slowly “That’s… a religion I could live with.”

Jeeny: smiling “You already are. You just don’t call it that.”

Host:
The rain had stopped completely now. A faint mist hung over the ground, and in the first pale light of dawn, the temple carvings seemed almost to breathe. Jack and Jeeny stood, brushing the dust from their clothes.

Jack: “You know, for a man of equations and rockets, Kalam had a way of speaking like a poet.”

Jeeny: “Because he saw science and spirituality as the same pursuit — both are about discovering what’s hidden within creation. One through thought, the other through surrender.”

Jack: smiling “So, maybe prayer’s the universe debugging us.”

Jeeny: laughs softly “Exactly. A divine software update — if you’re open enough to download it.”

Host:
They both laughed quietly, the sound echoing off the ancient stones. Then, in silence, Jeeny knelt beside the bowl of water, dipped her fingers in, and touched the ground.

Jeeny: whispering “For potential. For patience. For peace.”

Jack: watching her “For courage,” he added softly, surprising himself.

Jeeny: turns toward him, smiling “That’s prayer too, you know.”

Jack: after a long pause “Then maybe I’ve been praying longer than I thought.”

Host:
The camera would pull back then — the two figures beneath the banyan tree, framed by morning light. The sky glowed faintly pink, the earth steaming from the rain, the world reborn in quiet reverence.

And in that moment, A. P. J. Abdul Kalam’s words rose like the dawn itself — not as doctrine, but as awakening:

“God, our Creator, has stored within our minds and personalities, great potential strength and ability. Prayer helps us tap and develop these powers.”

Because perhaps the divine doesn’t wait for us to look upward —
but inward,
toward the infinite universe already burning quietly
within.