WHAT is God, asked my nine-year-old son after listening to a story with a moral from my mother in which God was projected as an all-powerful being, fighting the tyranny of devils thereby bringing everlasting peace to the world. Somewhat of an agnostic, I could have given my philosophy of what I felt of God, but considering his impressionable age and the subject being a clash between conviction and reason, I ended up reiterating his grandmother’s words. One has always been sceptical about what morals and teachings should be imparted to one’s children. I could have molded them to be atheists, but with science having failed to answer so many queries of life, I did not want to deny my progeny the belief system imbibed over generations. When I was a child, my mother would talk of the infinite spread of universe, far beyond the sun and moon, running on command of this supernatural being who kept account of deeds of mortals. I lived a portion of my life in this belief, trying to please this mystic being for a berth in heaven and to avoid penance in hell. As I grew older, I got disillusioned seeing the pain and suffering of truthful and honest men and the prosperity in deceitfulness and pretense. Having learnt about the “placebo effect” which states that what mind thinks strongly come to pass, it dawned upon me that God was my mind’s creation and the spread of my mind’s imagination was far greater than that of the universe. The words of Gurbani that Mann jittay jag jeet (win over mind to conquer the world) made sense. While my thoughts battled with me for creating this God, one could neither let my existence lose to reason nor win over my mind’s fantasy. In the bargain, I could neither experience my mother’s God nor my mind’s God.  But then, I see my mother who has spent all her life with her unshakeable belief. Unlike me, she is simple enough to have faith in something she never saw. In a divine atmosphere, logic loses its relevance and devotion wins over rationality. Having surrendered completely, she rid herself of all anxiety and treaded over mountains of difficulties with a firm support of the staff of belief and succeeded in all her ventures.Today, I see my mother content, patient and ever thankful to the Almighty. On the other hand, having lived a much more comfortable life, I kept vacillating between the threads of imagination and conviction and am still light years away from the tranquility she has always possessed. As I grey out, I’ve realised that given a choice between logic and faith, the latter is certainly a better proposition. I may not have inherited this baggage of faith from my mother, but now I do feel that this concept should be passed on to the next generation. Whether God exists or not, only God knows, but if I compare our contentment quotients, I am certain that my mother’s God definitely exists.