“Are you religious?’ is a question that is often posed to me. Many a times unexpectedly, unwarrantedly and often out of context. I consider the subject deeply personal and private not necessarily to be shared with just anyone. Yet, a voice at the back of my mind questions - Why on earth should it perplex you anymore than being identified as a creative person?’. Come to think of it, I rather be labelled a spiritual soul, a seeker seeking answers trapped in an illusionary matrix. This existential question plague me, unsettling me that I finally settle to be branded as a ritualistic. For rituals religious or otherwise gives a structure to my life. The daily routine comforts and re-assures me that eventually someday I will break the matrix and free myself. It is in these fleeting moments that the soul is bared and gets an authentic glimpse as if the red pill is popped to bare the soul.
In such moments, the soul remembers what the mind has forgotten. And in my naivety, I infer that many a birth prior to being a Hindu, I was probably a devout Muslim or a Buddhist as much as I was a Christian or a Voodooist. Does this naive supposition in any manner make me exhibit a side I myself maybe be unaware of but which surfaces unconsciously, is debatable. So what do I do? I embrace my multiple identities in the metaworlds.
In the dusty by lanes of Turkey, I see myself as a Sufi mystic, oblivious of the worldly ways, singing praise of maybe Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, whirling endlessly in total surrender to the Higher Self. In another world, my soul incessantly chants ...Buddham Saranam Gacchami and awakens a chord long forgotten. I marvel as my present day self attempts to understand the stirrings in my heart as my lips softly mouths the mantra with perfect rhythm to the steps I had once taken in knee deep snow. Steps that were painfully slow from ignorance attempting to move towards enlightenment on my way up Mount Shishapangma. At other times, I find myself as an awestruck devotee in a tiny chapel on a hilltop. The early morning rays filter through the stained-glass windows showering blessings on the simple devotees kneeling before the exquisite figurine of Nossa Senhora do Rosário in some quaint village of Portugal. I picture myself seeped in the divine light. Else in some nook in the thick dark forest of Amazon or is it Congo, I see myself devoutly calling upon the spirits and worshiping my ancestors as I’m engrossed in rituals that now appear alien and foreign to me…and so the matrix could throw open multiple doors all leading to that one source.
‘Sarva Dharma Sama Bhava’ meaning ‘Equality of all religions’, come naturally to a blessed few, more so to children. Unconditional acceptance, irrespective of religion, caste, creed and accepting each other for the ‘person’ s/he is comes easy for them. Jesus said- all it takes to enter the kingdom of heaven is to become childlike. Yet, as adults the humility, acceptance and unconditional love that comes naturally to children evades us. Life is indeed very simple for those who go on with their daily chores, baptized by their simple beliefs. I on the other hand await evangelizing my life amidst a superficial superimposed simplistic living.