Religion and Me

I was born in a Hindu household where I participated enthusiastically in many festive celebrations. As a child, I listened to stories of the partition from my grandmother and saw her gratitude for the life she was able to rebuild. My relationship with religion was of enthusiastic engagement with rituals and expectations. 

In my formative years, I moved to the UAE, where Islam is the State's official religion. I heard the azaan five times a day and I did not eat in public during Ramadan. I went to an Indian school where students and teachers came from three dominant religions - Hindus, Muslims and Christians. I began to see religion as an unalterable part of identity. To me, Hindu, Muslim, or Christian were nouns and adjectives. However, I never thought critically about the practices and philosophies of different religions, except for the visible aspects, like clothing and food choices. I didn't know the ways of being, doing and relating that made me belong to a particular religion.

When I eventually returned to Mumbai for college, my circles unintentionally became homogenised, primarily people from upper-caste, Hindu families. In the period between 2002-and 2008, there were six terrorist attacks in Mumbai carried out by people who were followers of Islam. It made me angry. Luckily for me, I was able to channel that anger to shape my intention - to influence the choices young people were making. Eventually, I became a teacher in a school in an under-served, Muslim-dominated community, and that changed everything for me!

I saw the privilege that I had inherited being an educated, Hindu, upper-class male. I had around me a safety net that, regardless of my ability or effort, would make it almost impossible to see the everyday struggles my students' families faced living hand-to-mouth. I witnessed their resilience despite challenges and their abundance and largeheartedness despite poverty. 

I realised how my understanding of people different from me came from my echo chambers of educated, Hindu, upper-class friends, family and acquaintances. I have been guilty of having conversations where I magnified my own disadvantage at the hands of 'others'. For instance, I repeatedly said how reservations make it impossible for meritorious students like me to find a seat in an institution of my choice! I almost believed people when they recommended, "Don't go into these localities. You will get robbed." My experience in my school community challenged these notions every single day.

Now, I understand religion as a powerful source of privilege in society. Misinterpreted religious practices, when enforced, became tools for propagating patriarchy and disempowering women. At the same time, I did not see religion as a problem - I saw how it gave strength and conviction to so many people, many of who were lost.  Moreover, I began to nuance my view of people. All people had good intentions. Some made bad choices, and others good ones. Good and bad choices were evident across different religious groups. 

Personally, I entered a stage of indifference. I did not care about being a Hindu anymore, yet I respectfully participated in celebrations with my family. I did not want to step on anyone's toes and cause trouble. 

While I was in a stage of apathy, I saw the tide shift in our secular country. In a carefully orchestrated way, the narrative became that the Hindus are in danger of losing their freedom and privileges. There was an imminent threat to their safety and prosperity at the hands of other religions, especially Islam and Christianity. It reached a stage where some people questioned our constitutional choice of being a secular nation. We all know the situation in our country now, where this narrative fuels radical elements to take violent actions and bully the minorities in society. 

If history has taught us anything, the cycle of hate and violence is unending. Dante said, "The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."  Being apathetic today makes me feel shameful. I cannot stay silent while we are divided based on religion and the choices of minorities are dictated by the majority. Violent words and actions must be condemned. 

The prevailing tension is pushing me to examine my own religious choices. In all honesty, I have not studied the Hindu scriptures at length. At the same time, I do not feel the need to label the system of beliefs and values that guides me as Hinduism. Giving a name to my religion seems to make it feel inflexible and closed to evolution. I want my religion to be a verb. 

I choose the values of courage, curiosity and compassion for all beings and nature, over a religious label. I intend to weave communities that nurture the wellbeing of all. I want to keep my values and intentions open to questioning and evolution, based on the examination of my life experiences. If I can learn to notice and love the goodness in every person, I think it would be a life worth celebrating! 

"It’s easy to love a perfect God, unblemished and infallible that He is. What is far more difficult is to love fellow human beings with all their imperfections and defects. Remember, one can only know what one is capable of loving. There is no wisdom without love. Unless we learn to love God’s creation, we can neither truly love nor truly know God.
~ Shamz of Tabriz, 40 Rules of Love

My choice is not rooted in denouncing a religion, but it is one rooted in being true to who I am. I respect everyone's values and beliefs as I would expect them to respect mine. Peaceful co-existence is what I seek. I may not agree with you, but that does not mean we are not one. We are all made of stardust and bound by our inter-being. 

To close, I will leave you with this beautiful poem, that blurs all notions of separation.

“Singularity (after Stephen Hawking)” by Marie Howe from Maria Popova on Vimeo.