Yesterday, while driving on the Baba Kharak Singh Marg in Delhi at CP, my friend asked about my devotion towards Bangla Sahib. And, without any pause, I could muster just a nod and the following statement. “Yes, I love being at Bangla Sahib.” And then, I saw its glittering dome and felt happy for some mysterious reason. I continued, “It’s strange how I feel at some places, be it Vaishno Devi, Jama Masjid, Bangla Sahib, in the midst of nature, in the midst of small children and so on. A certain sense of peace comes gushing from within and lifts my lips to form an arch and smile. It doesn’t come from the knowledge that I have had eaten and drunk along with a glass of milk during school that God lives there; but from the feel it gives while I am there. There, in the midst of God, maybe. And, it doesn’t matter what my religion is; as he never talks to the person who has a surname or who has a particular attire but to the soul who is nameless, naked, and pure,” before I got interrupted. “Bro, we are lost. Which turn shall I take? And why were you smiling looking outside?! “Nothing, I was just contemplating what my religion is.” Only this time, my voice was loud enough for him to hear.