In a Place like India

In a place like India, where culture is almost synonymous with religion, it is almost appalling to go against the basic principles and beliefs that have been embedded in my culture forever. As Hindus, we are extremely religious and it is this ingrained faith that makes people, including my family and I, do a variety of rituals, to appease the Gods.

From watching my father pray every morning and every night; seeing my grandfather wake up at the crack of dawn every day to finish a series of rituals; going to Delhi every year to visit a temple; wearing religious threads or necklaces or adorning our cars with pictures of God, I have grown up in an environment where God is present in every aspect of my life. We are meant to pray to him before leaving the house and acknowledge his presence when we come back.

I believe that there is some higher (supreme) power, be it God or anything one may want to call it, but I do not believe that in order to prove ones devotion or belief, it is necessary to demonstrate it through wasteful rituals. Stepping into an unadulterated grey area from the comfort zone of the black and white, one day, I questioned my parents about this word that was flung around so casually in our house- praying. I told them that I did not believe in the concept of idol worship and more importantly, I did not believe that if so many rituals weren’t followed, you were automatically viewed as an atheist. Or “punished by God. I asked them whether they loved God or feared Him. In my mind, they feared God. I had given a lot of thought to this before bringing it up, in the fear of hurting my family. The prayers I said before going to sleep every night gradually stopped from structured to simple word of thanks to the supreme; the guilt that I felt for not being so intensely religious, in the ritualistic sense, slowly started wearing off and my mind kept questioning the relevance of these things that I was mechanically doing. I didn’t even know what the words I was saying meant. Most often if I seeked an explanation for a ritual I would not receive one. My parents often did not themselves know the logic behind some rituals.

I understood the magnitude of what was going on in my head, I knew that I had never been forced into doing anything by my family but that, in itself, made it all the more harder for me to challenge something that nobody in our society had ever thought to question before. I understood that I was voicing my opinions in a zone that was sacred. My family has never imposed anything on me and that is where is got the strength to voice my thoughts from.)

It was absolutely unspoken- I did what I was told to without being a rebel. I attended Sanskar classes (religious classes), I wore a red thread on my wrist and a black one around my neck, I said my prayers when I was meant to because that is what I had seen all my life- my immediate family in Bangalore followed it, my grandparents in Calcutta followed it, my cousins in Bombay followed it, my relatives in London followed it. I wanted to separate my center from my core. I did not want to let go of the values and traditions that my culture and religion have taught me but, at the same time, I didn’t want to worship God in the form of an idol when my faith is what fuels my belief.