It’s interesting.
So long in my life I have been faced with questions that have startled me, sometimes bewildered me, but never was I s-o confused about what is the “right” thing to do. Given a typical mainstream Hindi movie of today the obvious end dialogue would be, do whatever your heart says. Pity, reality stands on much harder surface than the Hindi movie bubbles or else I could’ve just let myself “go with the flow” and be “happy” with the choice I make.
But the question is a very private one. And it stirs several parts of my Self; My practical, thoughtful, outer, everyday, made up Self as well as inner restless shabby and somewhat staunchly depressive Self. Religion has not been an important part of my life so to speak. Religious rituals, on the other hand, have made their marks in bits and pieces predominantly in my early childhood then in significant portions during my puberty. I don’t even clearly remember the first time I actually thought of denouncing religion – was it when I first read Vidya Sagar and Sohomoron ritual of Brahmins’ young wives being put on fire to safeguard their chastity or the immaculate conception of mother Mary or was it more when I read the Hadith where it says girls would always get lesser than boys when it comes to parental property. Mind you, all of it was galloped with naive curiosity, inquisitive anxiety and of course the immense urge of adolescence of being unorthodox. Later in my life when I read and felt, (and consciously using the word “felt” rather than understood because I understood most of the religious propaganda almost instantly I read them but I felt about them differently as I matured as a human being) religion probably has nothing much to add in my life, it became, say, like junk food to me. It’s not that to overcome a post party hangover at 3 am on a highway side me and my friends haven’t stuffed ourselves with burgers, fries and the fizzy drinks with brain freeze, but the following day when you come back to your normal civic sense, you attempt to go to the gym and laugh about being jerk drunken punks and try to shed off the kilos. At least you appear to try.
The junk food analogy perfectly depicts my relationship with religion. It’s complicated. I am not a junk-o-holic. However I have let myself float along with it perhaps sporadically. I think religion has been in somewhat similar status in my life where rituals have been with me for a while and then social festivities have fascinated me (just think of the pooja sweets, Diwali kaju borfis or firni s in Eid --Yummm.. and the mehendi and the new dresses, and the color, and the fireworks, and the Christmas cake.. yum yum yum…) but as a school of belief it has never appealed to me. Not even when I performed them. Being blessed to be born and brought up with secular parents, I wouldn’t say particularly anything was imposed on me but even then I mooted about the sanctity of being a Muslim or the obelisk of rituals to follow like doing it three times instead of once blah blah blah…. at this stage of life I am tossed by a dilemma even bigger– if being non-religious is a stand, and knowingly or unknowingly I take that stand, is it expected of me to act accordingly? And if so, is it possible for me to be that Samaritan in sickness in health, in laughter in tears, for better for worse, for richer for poorer till death do me part with my belief? Or non –belief so to speak? I wouldn’t pay to see superbowl, but a good Roger Federer game would always buy me in. So the biggest atheist convention happening within the few steps of my near and dear city would definitely allure me to purchase the most expensive Richard Dawkins Sunday sessions, not only for his stern Brit accent rather for his mesmerizing intellectual excellence of “The Selfish Gene”. And it also makes sense when I’ll be pissed with seemingly never ending struggle of juggling and shuffling priorities, in strictest terms, financial priorities and reach the doorstep of possibility of not being present there. But I wonder would the pain be heartbreaking though? Quite astonishingly I find out, it’s not! As much as I am excited about the separation of religion and state and live by examples where it’s ok to shun majority of the rituals, odd and not so odd, I come to a sense where I’m not missing it more than missing a favourite TV serial. My sense of loss, if any, is limited to whining and cannot exceed the sense of belongingness pilgrims would feel during pilgrimage. Or, if they ‘ve missed it, the deep sense of detachment – the painstaking process of feeling left out from something you so dearly like.
That brings me to my next question, is it then I am NOT a GOOD atheist? I surely am NOT agnostic and I do not dwell around whether there is someone out there or not, I know for a fact that there isn’t. Despite this steadfast belief set, how come it’s becoming increasingly unimportant to me to proclaim and to practice, even within my very private territory, my belief (non believe I mean, Gee, I see the reference is becoming increasingly rhetorical ) and my one and only unique set of values that I have learnt not to compromise over these years? Good or bad is a strictly subjective term but if they stop being important to me I feel I lose attachment with this world as a whole. Spending money (read effort, passion, dedication etc etc) for something I like or stand up for has never been so unimportant. And for this indifference, I am feeling a bit numb.
I know I won’t stop believing what I believe, neither would I stop feeling the way I feel. So the moral dilemma I think stands in between whether it’s ok NOT to feel very strongly about the things you otherwise feel very strongly about? Maybe with days passing I am becoming one of those de-passionate demons who do not necessarily agonize over losing a part of their Self.
Somehow I miss the fact that I don’t miss it that much… … ….
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