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A Box of Questions this BHOGI

The Hanuman temple at the end of the street where my parents live has been our go-to temple ever since I can remember. Whether it is a prayer for someone ill or a ThankYou for a milestone reached, sometimes 'just-like-that' and sometimes for a heart-to-heart, this Hanuman has been a constant in the lives of those who live nearby. A month ago, the temple was decked up for Hanuman Jayanti and my dad couldn't stop raving about how majestic our beloved Hanuman looked, how exquisitely the ceiling had been painted with tulasi and flowers and what a beautifully festive look the entire street had taken on. There was a constant stream of visitors for Him that day- each one being fed with a sumptuous lunch. Would this be any Hanuman Jayanti anywhere in the world? Probably! So why go on harping about this one? Because the choicest flowers were hand picked and strung together by a Muslim. The lunch was joyfully prepared by boys whose caste and religion no one knows. The entire cost fo