I have always been somewhat reluctant to religious rites and traditions. Not really sure why they exist. Not really certain what value they bring. I have been raised in catholic traditions, received the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation with a smile and most probably through a rather successful yet unconscious autosuggestion process. I grew up, got busier and busier with life and eventually started thinking that religious practices were mainly a waste of time. Why would I go to Church to supposedly address Someone whom I cannot discuss with? What kind of knowledge or specific answer were these practices adding to my cognitive development and my well-being? Was I not stepping in here just to fit in the society I was evolving in (in that case, embodied by my maternal side of the family, my love for them and my desire to make them happy for Christmas)?
I have always been somewhat reluctant to religious rites and traditions. Not really sure why they exist. Not really certain what value they bring.
I would readily call myself an agnostic: I have not dedicated any substantial time to religious thoughts and practices, yet my mind secretariat is still open for questions — For convenience and fun, we will call Religion ‘Thea’ from now onwards - almost chosen randomly, but you may check its etymology and find some kind of logic. Years passed by, nothing eventful happened between Thea and I. We were just like two (c)old childhood friends that had ended up being indifferent at each other with a little taste of bitterness and distrust. But no hard feelings!
Our two parallel existences lasted for a while without meeting again. I went through higher studies, travelled several continents, was going along happy, busy and thriving through continuous new encounters and experiences. Thea tried to reach out to me a couple of times during those years, but I didn’t really pay attention to that old friend as I had made new ones — who were, to be honest, a bit more fun.
After years, Thea suddenly knocked at my door again. I hadn’t seen her in such a long time. I had moved from France to Kolkata, India one year earlier, and had gone through a chaotic transition to this new country, this new culture, this new environment all together. Thea sneaked in on that last day of Durga Puja, which Bengalis would claim to be the biggest cultural festival in the world — and I have to admit, facts and figures can back up the claim. Durga Puja celebrates the hindu deity Durga, mythologic and poetic embodiment of Woman Power over Evil. On that last day of the festivities, commonly referred to as Bijoya Doshomi, we played Sindur Khela, or ‘Vermillion Game’, a hindu tradition which gets women to spread this typical red powder onto each other’s smiling faces. During that game, Thea knocked at the door at that very specific moment when Maa —so I call my sub-continental mom-in-law — softly dropped the thin red talc randomly on my face with the sweetest velvet touch. For a few bits of second, I closed my eyes as if I had pressed pause and forgot the world around, forgot the stress, forgot the lows, forgot anything else existed beyond this delicate contact between her thumb and my cheek. In this very moment, I felt good. I felt good, maybe because Thea was around, with her weird yet endearing habits and manners.
That very specific moment made me think a lot about Thea. Some of her habits can be really bizarre, unjustified or unfair, in the same way some religious traditions can be unequal or patriarchal with undisguised pride and sneak into a whole country’s habits as if they had completely switched off even the stiffest critical minds. I’ve always been criticising them for what’s right or wrong, what should be or shouldn’t, what makes sense or doesn’t. I had been judgmental to Thea.
I’ve always been criticising them for what’s right or wrong, what should be or shouldn’t, what makes sense or doesn’t.
But on that last day of Durga Puja, I felt so good. Thea made me feel so good. This moment took me back to thinking about the few times Thea tried to reach out to me, when she was sending me little tokens of happiness by taking me to Church with family and friends just for the sake of being together and singing all these Christmas songs together which echo on the edifice’s walls, for some mystic reason, always give me goosebumps like Gospel songs do.
So that day, after years of reluctance and distrust, to religious rites and traditions, I stopped wondering why and said why not. I welcomed Thea back into my life for the way she is, without ethically overthinking the matter, like a friend you would love to see once in a while.
Sometimes, religion is about the little moments of togetherness it creates.
Religion does not always need to be overthought the way we have been taught it should be. It does not need to always belong to the realm of thoughts, cognitive, philosophy, morals and ethics. Sometimes, religion is about the little moments of togetherness it creates, and shouldn’t always be enjoyed — or hated — only for its contents and messages. Sometimes, Thea is just an old friend who is here to listen your stupid stories without a word and a fuss, and send you back to your life a little bit happier.
