Using my Religion

When I was very young I read a book about a boy who had magical powers. It was one of those Soviet children's books that flooded Delhi back when India was experimenting with her socialist side. The boy's name was Ivanushka (or maybe it was Misha or Kolya or something) and he awoke one morning to find that he had the power to make things happen just by thinking about them. The rest of the story was the usual rot about the pranks he pulled (with the milkman and the school-teacher and such) and about the eventual responsibility that such power brings, but my imagination was fired. I could not get the idea out of my head and I always wondered when my own dormant magical powers would awaken.
A few months later I read a magazine article about Uri Geller, that fraud of a spoon-bender, and then I saw the movie Star Wars and pretty soon I was convinced. I simply had to practice and concentrate to build up my powers and the world would be at my feet.
When I went out with my parents I would focus, for example, on the car ahead of us at a traffic light. "Turn-left-turn-left-turn-left..." I would say in my head as I squinted at it in total concentration. If the car did indeed turn left I was further convinced of my powers. If it did not then I knew that I had to work harder to hone my skill.
As I grew older I began to use my powers on more difficult tasks. I tried to get India to win cricket matches on TV ("Four-or-six-four-or-six...") and to make the skirt of the hot girl in my school bus ride higher when she crossed her legs ("Move-up-move-up-move-up.."). Again I was largely unsuccessful, but the rare occasions that things went my way gave me the confidence to go on (Kind of like my golf game, come to think of it).
The big turning point came about when I was around thirteen and was visiting my grandmother. Her dog had some kind of seizure and collapsed in a heap after eating something weird in the estate. My cousins and I all loved that young mongrel dearly and were in tears assuming that the poor creature had bought it for good. My grandmother was a strict and pious old Catholic and she ordered the lot of us into the chapel (she had a large, fully functional chapel inside her house) to pray for the animal. Since I was the only half-Hindu among the cousins, I was 'allowed' to wait outside while the rest got into a vigorous bout of Our Fathers and Hail Maries. I figured that instead of twiddling my thumbs, my time would be better spent putting my super-powers to good use. "Rana-get-up-Rana-get-up-Rana-get-up..." played over and over in my head as I concentrated the full force of my magic at the backyard where the mutt lay wrapped in a towel.
The next morning we woke up to find Rana waiting for us at the breakfast table. He was a little more reserved than usual, but otherwise bright eyed and waggy tailed. "Pass the sausages" he said with his eyes.
My grandmother instructed us all to give thanks and rejoice in the wonders of the Lord, but I was too busy rejoicing in the wonders of myself. I knew exactly who had saved that dog and it wasn't anyone in heaven. Rana's savior was sitting at this very table and stuffing his smug face with buttered eggs and toast.
Over the years, common sense and practical reasoning took the place of childish fantasy and my belief in my powers diminished, but never completely disappeared. All the way through engineering college I would sit in exam rooms muttering "No-laplace-transforms-no-laplace-transforms.." at question papers before turning them over. Once a classmate noticed my lips moving and asked if I had been praying. "Sort of" I replied.
You see the whole thing had become almost like a habit at this point. The same way that religion is to most people. I didn't really believe it worked but what the hell, when the chips are down then there's no harm in trying anything right? It was probably a habit that excused me from any kind of religious belief at an early age. If religion is a crutch that people need when they feel powerless, then what's wrong with having an internal crutch rather than a super-natural one? In fact I think it’s healthier.
So, good reader, the next time you need a miracle and feel the urge to pray, why not drop me a line instead? I will apply my powers to the matter and I guarantee you a strike rate as good as anything the big Guy in the sky can give you. And at least I will call back and apologize if it doesn't work out.