Why we read what we dont understand

I enjoy listening to languages I dont understand, its the only way to entertain my poor Bored ear. I try not to make my senses complacent. So sometimes during my everyday chores of cutting veges, cooking and cleaning, I end up with a cut on my finger or a burn on my arm or a blue mark on my thigh(nope I am not admitting I am a Klutz). If I continue doing the things as it is done everyday, my brain feels like its on automation. I dont like automation, I like to mark the difference between a Machine and ME...

oh where was I? Yeah! listening to stuff that I dont understand... Probably my first introduction to what I dont understand was the early morning Shloka readings I used to hear from my neighbours house. You could set the clock by the time that Uncle used to start the Shloka, it used to be regularly, without fail. At first it annoyed me that his shloka was waking me up... but over time I began to enjoy it. So I used to stand at the sink, eyes closed, with the brush in my teeth listening to the high and lows of his chanting. I never knew what it was that was that felt so nice but listen I did. After a while I used to know the variations if he made a mistake(I am presuming he did so). At that time, my mother was reading the Bhagawath Geeta in Sanskrit with its translations in Kannada(a language she could read write and speak fluently). Me, the one who prided herself in being Logical couldnt understand it. Why read the Sanskrit version and then read the translation when you could just read the translation and be done? Oh well! I should have known it will come to bite me in the future...I did it too in my 20's, reading the Bhagawath Geeta in sanskrit with translations in English. Makes me wonder... is there some pattern in the Genes for carrying over Mother's mode of behaviour? I never bothered to rationalize it.. it just was.. I like doing it. Yesterday, my cousin sends me this story which I thought gave me an explanation of why my mother did what she did... Here goes the story. Enjoy:

Why do we read Geeta, even if we can't understand a Sanskrit word???

The Story:

An old Farmer lived on a farm in the mountains with his young grandson.
Each morning Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading his Bhagavat Geeta. His grandson wanted to be just like him and tried to imitate him in every way he could.

One day the grandson asked, "Grandpa! I try to read the Bhagavat Geeta just like you but I don't understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bhagavat Geeta do?"

The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and replied, "Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water."

The boy did as he was told, but all the water leaked out before he got back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, "You'll have to move a little faster next time," and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket instead. The old man said, "I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You're just not trying hard enough," and he went out the door to watch the boy try again.

At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got back to the house.

The boy again dipped the basket into river and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty.

Out of breath, he said, "See Grandpa, it's useless!"
"So you think it is useless?" The old man said, "Look at the basket."

The boy looked at the basket and for the first time realized that the basket was different. It had been transformed from a dirty old coal basket and was now clean, inside and out.

"Son, that's what happens when you read the Bhagavat Geeta. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, you will be changed, inside and out. That is the work of God in our lives."

End of story.

I guess it goes to explain reading every holy book too. Maybe thats why they are considered Holy. This also takes me back to second grade when we learned the Multiplication tables without really understanding what it meant. We had to memorize it, so we did.. When I reached 3rd grade, as I was writing out the table on paper, I suddenly understood how the table was written.. I felt elated.. although thinking about it now, I wonder if I was a dullard at math(giggling).

Peace always

Mithuna