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What’s my religion?

The thought behind this note came when one of my former colleagues and a good friend sent me placards that were on display during the anti-CAA protests going around the country – protests that appears to have once again divided the polity down the middle – that is if one can actually find the middle in the middle anymore!

Image Source: Comes from some news
website during the CAA agitation in Delhi

The image had an idealistic youth proudly sharing the fact that he was a Hindu but not a cunt (or fucker as Google defines a Chutiya). Of course, there are those who claim that the very word Chutiya suggests gender bias but that would be a topic of another rant at another time. This one is totally dedicated to my religion – whatever that may be.

Before delving into my religion, I began by asking myself what is religion? Is it faith? If so, is it my faith or something that I derived from my family or maybe from my ecosystem? Is it a belief? If so, is it my own or did I follow what was shown to me by my parents or others around me? Or is it really something that was handed down by God? If so, who or what is God? It he a man? Is she a woman? A combination of both? Neither? Or is God a creation of my own faith? Of my own belief? Or that of others that I am following without question? Whatever it be, it would be my reality, not a collective one, isn’t it?

Which brings me to the most important question – What stops me from questioning?

These are questions that haunted me from a very early age though each time I asked questions, the answers I received from my elders, teachers, friends and many others had an undertone of helplessness. The answers ranged from “You can’t question God,” to “You will go to hell”. My dad though gave me a small window of opportunity. He suggested that I go and figure it out myself. And whatever it was that I figured out, it was my way and would have no bearing on how others around me responded. Because, it’s my reality!

And that’s what I have come to believe about religion. It is extremely personal to me, as personal as my other personal preferences, right from what food I eat to what position I sleep in or the sexual position that gets me to an orgasm. Would it be fair to impose any of these on anyone in my close vicinity or even a wider one? NO! Because what works for the goose needn’t work for the gander.

And that’s my religion. It is very personal and not to be shared even with my closest confidant. It is not based on science, nor is it based on faith or belief. Whatever it is, it just happens to be my answer to my questions – my reality! And any religion that resists questions needs to be called a cult. And, I’d be damned if I ever become part of any cult!

Source: A dear friend shared this via her Instagram. Thank you @Carmusings

As a footnote, remember that the greatest of minds weren’t afraid of asking questions. Though their answers stumped people through the ages. To a point where they either ignored them or deified them so they didn’t have to follow that path. Instead could merely ask them for miracles, as a quid pro quo for their faith (or belief). They converted it into a collective reality founded on fear and funded by them.

The problem with this behaviour is that we seek miracles from a power that has already granted us many over a life time. Our human existence, the society, our family, friends, the flora and fauna… the list is endless. And yet, we pray for miracles! How ungrateful can we get? Maybe, that’s my religion!

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