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 ear can hear 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 One, perhaps there will be a breach of trust with my imaginary friend. Sometimes I’ve even feared that my people will be prejudiced against my habits because we were all taught to fear controversies.

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 realize what it is to be off the grid.


To begin, 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 energy closer 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 belonged mostly to the Hindu Goddesses. From Durga and Kali to Lakshmi and Saraswati, I have felt the presence of power only in female resorts of vacant souls. It is only when I picture those very faces looking over with their watchful eyes and a faint holistic smile, that I feel secure even in the foggiest moments. I have seen that face frown, seen it unhappy and I have seen it merry like no other! I refer to him as him, yet I see him as her.

I’ve known God in the most unrealistic ways, yet there has been no other face which has successfully helped me seek the one true power better.

Talking of 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 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 charms me every single time without fail.

With a crescent moon within the palms, Islam shall never fail to mesmerize the ones who desire to identify with its meaning.

Thus 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. 

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


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