On Faith

I have often wondered if I am not lying through my teeth when I answer "Hindu" every time I am asked what my faith is. I was born Hindu to religious parents who dutifully light the sacred lamp every single morning and evening and pray to an array of beautifully sculpted and framed Gods and Goddesses in human form. Any unsettling thought or premonition of malaise can be magically dispelled by a visit to the temple, heartfelt prayers to their favorite deity and the offering of pujas. 

I grew up praying to these very Gods whose ethereal beauty I marveled at- their all knowing doe eyes carrying within them virtual oceans of tranquility, yet also the power to burn to a crisp in an instant, the wretched souls that dared to invoke their wrath. Some Gods were a fascinating inky blue, others of an exquisite peaches and cream complexion; all of them, perfect. They were the Creators and Protectors of the Universe, I was told, and could just as easily destroy all of it, at will. I learned from a young age, that I was to fear Them and account to Them for all of my actions, both good and bad. I was to seek Their blessings, Their forgiveness, and Their infinite wisdom when I did not have the answers to perplexing questions about life. I was to swear allegiance, ensure that I kept Them pleased through my choices and actions, and never to get on Their wrong side- after all, They saw and knew everything. But in the event that I did stray- to err being human and all- there were also ways to appease Them. Through homas, pujas, generous offerings of milk, ghee, fruit, flowers, coconuts, money, propitiating brahmins, feeding the poor et al. So it was all, in a sense, good and convenient...if one had the means, that is. It did make me wonder, though, what the poor did when they sinned. Would they be condemned to eternal damnation? I mean, their lives had to be difficult as is, but what if they couldn't afford to get back on the good side of the Gods? I would learn there were other (more economical) ways- relentless praying, fasting, self-abnegation, rolling across the length of the temple walkway and such. For the slightly more adventurous (or more penitent, however one chooses to look at it) soul, there were things like piercing parts of one's body with tridents, spears, hooks, spikes and other devices of torture; walking over hot coals, hammering nails into fat tree trunks with one's bare forehead etc. till the Gods (or their earthly representatives) were sufficiently moved and decided that the sinner had atoned enough. Thus, I naturally assumed that the Gods, fair and judicious as they are, judged mortals according to their means; after all, didn't Lord Krishna go into raptures when his poverty-stricken old friend Kuchela could only offer him a pouch of flattened rice when he came to visit? 

That all being said, I admit to deriving great comfort from some of these rituals that I grew up with.... the lighted lamp and the mystical fragrance of agarbattis evoke a sense a calm in me that I cannot quite put into words; every time I burn an incense stick, I watch in awe as wisps of smoke seemingly rise up to the heavens, like a prayer. Every time I come face to face with an idol or a framed image of a god, or pass a place of worship, unwittingly, my hands will clasp in prayer or the fingers of my right hand, almost of their own accord, will touch my forehead and my heart, as if acknowledging and paying my respects. These habits have been so deeply ingrained into my psyche that I have even passed them down to my children, who identify themselves as Hindu for all practical purposes, but at heart, are rather confused. It is puzzling to them that their parents rarely go to a temple; that we do not do pujas, chant mantras, light a lamp everyday or have a family prayer routine, unlike most of their other Hindu friends. On the rare occasion that we do go to the temple, I find myself feeling a little lost and awkward, not quite knowing how to navigate my way around the deities (there is an order to this apparently; a hierarchy if you will, when it comes to which Gods one must greet first) or how best to convey my respects (do I circumambulate around them once? Twice? Three times? Do I walk clockwise the whole way or retrace my steps and go anti-clockwise after a point?). Needless to say, it can all get a little stressful, so usually, these up close and personal encounters are avoided in favor of quiet prayers, mostly said in the privacy of my own home or wherever I am when the urge to pray strikes. Old habits die hard though, and I can still go into a peaceful trance at the sound of mantras being chanted. I even remember most of the shlokas, mantras and bhajans I learned as a kid, thanks to a few years of Bal Vihar. Temples still evoke in me a sense of wonder, curiosity; even a kind of longing- although for what, I'm not really sure. Perhaps, they are reminders of my childhood...of magical summers spent at my grandmother's home situated directly across the street from a Shiva temple, which is a local landmark. We woke up each morning to the temple's ancient loudspeaker playing devotional songs and the gentle cadences of the pujari chanting the Gayatri mantra. From the living room, we could hear the frenzied tinkling of the temple bells as the doors of the sanctum sanctorum opened for the morning and evening deeparadhana. I can still close my eyes and smell the musty, commingled scent of burning cotton wicks drowning in gingelly oil, freshly ground sandalwood, camphor and flowers. Those smells still take me home.

I'm not quite sure what changed...and perhaps, not very much has. Except, I stopped going to temples- to pray that is- some years ago, after I found the process more tedious and distracting than the soulful, freeing experience I hoped for it to be. Don't get me wrong, I still love "hanging out" at the temple, for those smells and to be surrounded by the comforting, serene ambience that I associate with those idyllic childhood days. I also enjoy people-watching at the temple and tucking into the delicious prasad, but then...those are hardly good enough reasons to visit a place of worship, are they? I have also, to my great dismay, become rather paranoid of self-proclaimed spiritual teachers, who seem to be mushrooming by the minute and seem to amass legions of followers. I can't quite be sure how a (professed) knowledge or understanding of the scriptures can give one the answers to confounding questions about life and the universe when every situation is different and comes with its own set of unique complexities. It is hard for me to accept generic explanations or solutions based on what was transcribed into our religious treatises many thousands of years ago, just because they are doled out sagely by a "guru", who is only another mortal, like myself. Makes me extremely curious to know if they would be just as poised and stoic if they themselves were beset with moral, spiritual and other life crises. I mean no disrespect to those that turn to spiritual guides for wisdom and direction when they are faced with challenges that seem hard to surmount- I reckon one must tap into whatever resource of strength and guidance one can avail of in times like that- and if it works out, great. But being human and flawed, and having seen enough of the world to know that there are often vested interests and agendas (and sometimes even great dysfunction) behind even what may look like the most benevolent countenance and enlightening discourse, I remain a skeptic.  

Likewise, over the years, I find myself drifting further and further away from ritualism and rules, particularly those pertaining to the worship of God and how/when/why and by whom it should be done. I have also, come to have great faith in the powers of prayer, but the word 'prayer' itself has taken on a new meaning for me. I know now that the act of praying does not need to be bound by rituals or carefully chosen words....it is forgiving, freeing and free for all. I don't need to be standing or kneeling before an image or idol when I want to pray; I don't need pre-determined or scripted words....I can make them up on the fly as they come to me. I can pray as I type these words or while I sip my coffee, even while I'm in the shower. Prayer has ceased to become this weight on my shoulders, this carefully orchestrated dance where I have to look and act a certain way, feel constrained to observe rituals I don't believe in, that feel meaningless even as I go about the motions, and come away, with my soul feeling hollower than ever.

That is when I began to turn inwards, and asking myself what God/Divinity means to me....I tried to recall the moments when I felt most deeply connected to myself and my place in the universe. I thought of many a fiery sunset and sunrise that overwhelmed me to tears; lush paddy fields glinting like jade under the luminous afternoon sun, stretching for miles like a glorious green sea, the sight of which makes my heart sing every single time. I recalled an awe-inspiring moment a few years ago in Helen, Georgia when I came face to face with an almost blinding riot of brilliant color, like jewels blazing, under a psychedelic autumn sky, where the breath caught in my throat so hard and so fast, that I had to sit for a moment. To my great surprise, a sob erupted from somewhere deep within me. I felt so small, so insignificant, yet exhilarated and utterly grateful to be alive; to be able to experience that moment of almost intimidating beauty. I have never felt the presence of divinity more strongly than in those moments....

Reflection has also made me realize how great a believer in destiny I have become today; more so, when it comes to people and relationships. I believe with all my heart that human beings are capable of great goodness, and that at our very core, we are essentially pure and guileless. The complex layers that eventually form around that core are the result of our experiences and our armor against a world we do not quite fully understand. I'm inclined to think that we don't meet people by chance- at least, the ones that go on to stay awhile and have some kind of influence on our lives. There is a reason we gravitate towards certain people and go on to have enduring relationships with them; there is a power that drives us to surround ourselves with a small tribe of loyal friends, well-wishers and influencers. And by that same token, I want to believe that there is a reason we encounter certain people at key points in our life; especially at those times when we are seemingly at a crossroads and not quite sure which way to go. They suddenly appear out of nowhere, somehow get entwined into our lives, quietly, unobtrusively, and end up being our unexpected and much needed ally at that crucial time. It is as if unbeknown even to them, they carry within themselves the missing piece to our baffling puzzle. Once their purpose has been served and we have successfully climbed that mountain, they move on, as noiselessly and inconspicuously as they came, only to linger on as a fondly cherished memory. Experiences like these have me convinced that divinity exists within people- the ones we surround ourselves with, as well as the ones that step in, unasked, in our time of need. The other day, I heard somebody say something interesting. She said that everything that happens in one's life is an answer to one's innermost thoughts and prayers or the result of the energy that one unconsciously radiates to the universe. Cliched as it sounds, the universe picks up on that energy and sets about translating it into reality. The people that come into our lives at various times are but unsuspecting emissaries to help us fulfill our destinies, just as we likely are, for others. I like to think of God not as this uncompromising, unforgiving, judgmental entity that we mostly make out to be, and spend a lifetime trying to placate, but as a free-flowing energy that is all-knowing, accepting and forgiving. My God doesn't judge; just looks out for me, and makes me want to be a better person, not so much for Him/Her, as for myself and those around me. 

I have tried to identify a spiritual philosophy or ideology that comes closest to what I have come to believe, perhaps to make it easier to explain to my own children, who like I said earlier, currently identify themselves as Hindu, yet are quite unsure about what that means, outside of the names of a few Hindu Gods that they "recognize". I have tried explaining to them that God is everything that is within them and around them that is capable of goodness, compassion, strength and inspiration. But children, I reckon like labels and having a name to call everything. Even faith. So I have been doing some reading, and it has been quite interesting and revelatory, exploring diverse schools of thought. The basic tenets of the following doctrines and philosophies somewhat echo my own thoughts. What is most interesting is that many of these are largely influenced by Hinduism and other Eastern religions. 

Pantheism: 
This doctrine identifies God with the universe, or regards the universe as a manifestation of God. Pantheists view everything as part of an all-encompassing, immanent God. Thus, all forms of reality are considered either modes of that Being, or are identical with it, which is why pantheism admits the worship of many gods. Critics hold that it is a non-religious philosophical position because in their eyes, pantheism implies that the Universe and God are identical, and thereby denies the personality and transcendence of God.

Many traditional and folk religions including traditional African religions and Native American religions can be seen as pantheistic. Ideas resembling pantheism existed in East/South Asian religions before the 18th century, notably Sikhism, Hinduism, Confucianism, and Taoism. In the case of Hinduism, pantheistic views exist alongside panentheistic (the belief that God is greater than the universe and exists both within as well as outside of it) ones. In Sikhism, stories attributed to Guru Nanak suggest that he believed God was everywhere in the physical world, and the Sikh tradition typically describes God as the preservative force within the physical world, present in all material forms, each of which is created as a manifestation of God.

Transcendentalism:
An idealistic philosophical and social movement that developed in New England in the early 19th century as a reaction to rationalism, it taught that divinity pervades all nature and humanity. A core belief of transcendentalism is in the inherent goodness of people and nature. Adherents believe that society and its institutions have corrupted the purity of the individual, and that people are at their best when they are free of sectarian and restrictive beliefs.

Transcendentalism emphasizes subjective intuition over objective empiricism. In transcendentalism, the power of the individual and the personal freedom to choose are paramount. This philosophy has been directly influenced by Indian religions, especially the Advaita school of Vedanta, which regards the Brahman(the Ultimate, Unchanging metaphysical truth) and the Atman(an individual's soul) to be identical. This is the essence of the phrase Tat Tvam Asi, which loosely translates to You Are That. Tat meaning the Ultimate Truth/Brahman, Tvam meaning You/Atman. While the physical world is illusory and ever changing (Maya), the absolute Atman-Brahman is realized by a process of negating everything relative, finite and changing. All souls and existence across space and time is considered as the same oneness. Spiritual liberation in Advaita is the realization that one's unchanging Atman is the same as the Atman in everyone else.

Agnosticism:
It is the view that the existence of God is unknown or unknowable. English biologist Thomas Henry Huxley coined the word "agnostic". Being a scientist, above all else, Huxley presented agnosticism as a  hypothesis with no supporting objective, testable evidence, and hence, no conclusive results. Earlier thinkers have written works that promoted agnostic points of view, such as Sanjaya Belatthaputta, a 5th-century BCE Indian philosopher who expressed agnosticism about afterlife, and Protagoras, a 5th-century BCE Greek philosopher who expressed agnosticism about the existence of the gods. Interestingly, throughout the history of Hinduism, there has been a strong tradition of philosophic speculation and skepticism. The Rig Veda takes an agnostic view on the fundamental question of how the universe and the gods were created. The Nasadiya Sukta (The Creation Hymn) in the tenth chapter of the Rig Veda says:

Who really knows? Who here will proclaim it?

Whence was it produced? Whence is this creation?

The gods came afterwards, with the creation of this universe.

Who then knows whence it has arisen?

Charles Darwin, who propounded the theory of evolution, was raised in a deeply religious environment, and had even studied to be a clergyman. While eventually doubting parts of his faith, Darwin continued to help in church affairs, although he avoided church attendance. Although reticent about his religious views, he did eventually write "I have never been an atheist in the sense of denying the existence of a God. I think that generally, an agnostic would be the most correct description of my state of mind."

Lastly, there is Spiritual Agnosticism, which perhaps I can most relate to. At its core, spiritual agnosticism rejects the rules and rituals of organized religion, which it believes, serves no practical purpose other than to divide. A spiritual agnostic believes that life or existence is essentially a mystery and that not knowing is okay. What matters is how you choose to live your life and not so much what you believe. Spiritual agnostics de-emphasize the question of God's existence because they recognize the importance of noticing the unity of humanity as a single species and of the universe as a single reality. In other words, they believe that certainty is divisive and interferes with the feeling of interconnectedness.

At the end of the day, I believe in a spiritual energy that pervades everything that exists in this universe. I don't necessarily call it God, but I am certain of its being; I feel its presence. It feels like being enveloped by goodness, light, boundless love and a profound sense of oneness with every life form around me. It makes me feel lucky to be alive and I want nothing more than to prove myself worthy of its infinite grace.