Sunday, 8 January 2017

Why I have No Religion?

No one has seen me pray truly...but there are innumerable prayers I have prayed in the shadows of solitude.

These prayers haunt the corners where no eye can find them and where no soul can seek them.

The reason for this intimacy is my controversial methods of seeking God, the one true I have ever known!

All this while I have feared that if I reveal how I truly seek the holiness, I will perhaps be shunned by the greater one just because it is something only we share. Sometimes I’ve even feared that my people will be prejudiced against me because they were taught to fear controversies from their very first breath.

However, I suddenly have the urge to let people know that there are no boundaries beyond their so called wall...and I want them to know and know again how and what it is to be off the grid.

Precautionary step: If there is expectation of dark magic and witchcraft, that is nowhere near what will be written hereafter.

To begin with, my ways of revering Him was developed due to different courses my childhood embarked upon.

Being under the influence of convents and churches from the very beginning, I learned the words of the Catholics. “The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit” never failed to fascinate me with the power in magical words. Their words became the light to find the holiness and there has been no other language which has successfully helped me draw the power when I was in need of it.

Also, brought up by a bourgeoisie Bengali family, the only true faces of God I have known and believed in were those of the Hindu Goddesses. From Durga and Kali to Lakshmi and Saraswati, I have felt the presence of power only in female resorts of powerless souls. It is only when I picture those very faces laying their watchful eyes over me, giving a faint holistic smile, that I have felt secured even in the foggiest moments. I have seen that face frown, I have seen that face unhappy and I have seen that face merry like never before! I refer to him as him, yet I see him as her.

I’ve known God in the most unrealistically realistic way and there has been no other face which has successfully helped me seek the one true power better.

Talking of the gestures, my influences have been diverse. From television commercials and motion pictures, to books and impressive acquaintances, I have always been bewitched by the way their hands curve when the followers of Islam ask for the company of God. The slightest touch of either hands on one another and the sphere it protectively creates for the face always makes me feel at home. To me, it appears to be a symbol of God placing a crescent moon on the insides of our palms each time we pray as a token of gratefulness and adoration. Islam shall never fail to mesmerize the ones who desire to passionately identify with its meaning.

So conclusively, I pray with the words of a Catholic to a Hindu deity through the gestures of a Muslim, and my religion is God.

Our blood cannot define our Gods. 

I am psychologically free of all the strict roads to one single destination, if not officially. 

There is not one religious path I can follow anymore, and hereby, I give up being on one.


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