From the category archives:

Religion

Richard Dawkins, that man believers hate, interviews Wendy Wright.

Apparently, Dawkins confronted her after recieving her hate mail, and she agreed to an interview.

I saw all seven parts of this interview on Youtube this evening. As a comment on one of the video says:

“…props to Dawkins, though. I would have punched her in the throat five minutes in.”

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I’m wary of crowded places, hot weather and long queues.

Add ill-mannered security guards. And priests who’d make Atilla blush. Blend them, and you get Tirupati.

Yet I had to go. Family tradition. It’s something we do after marriage.

I kept pushing it away for two years. And then, the trip materialised and our family headed for the seven hills.

It was my sixth trip to the place. I don’t remember going to another holiday spot – religious or otherwise – as many times.

At first, there’s much to like about the place: the climate’s pleasant, the locales are clean and green, there’s spicy, piping hot, slurpacious Andhra food. And the datacard works too.

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Then, the darshans happened.

There are several types of darshans you can make at Tirupati.

The cheapest option will leave you standing in queues several kilometres long. The slow, painful barefooted drag to the lord’s chamber takes many hours, sometimes more than a day.

Then, there’s the VIP queue, where you have to pay a higher-than-usual ticket price. But you are spared the queue and taken straight to the sanctum sanctorum.

Right before they reach the business end of the darshan, all these queues merge. Then, another wave from this sea of skinheads prepares to hit the lord’s chamber.

There, just as the devotees reach the chamber and get a second’s worth of his glimpse, they’re pushed away by the security – swiftly, rudely – to keep the queue moving.

All those hours in the sun.

For one second’s worth of darshan.

Two seconds, if you’re lucky.

Three, if you hold your ground and don’t let them push you.

It doesn’t stop there.

After this, people queue up again to make donations to the ginormous Tirupati hundi.

This queue is much shorter. But one thing doesn’t change: right after you’re done dropping your money in the hundi, the guard – probably fully aware that your donation helps pay his salary – pushes you away. All over again.

After this, you pass a gallery where overweight priests sit behind a glass wall with currency notes strewn around, waiting to be counted, or be pinched.

I’m an atheist. But what I truly like about organised religion is that it’s a fantastic, recession-proof, all-weather business model.

Its consumers fear abandoning it. Its proponents milk it for its dogmatic worth. And the product itself – The God – has irreproachable manners of pleasing or displeasing its followers.

My heated back-and-forth with some priests and guards would mean I’m not going back to any place of religion in a hurry.

However, if I can, I’m definitely going to set up a temple in every corner of the country.

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Just in case you’ve been confused like I was.

What are they?

Hamas: an acronym for Harakat al-Muqāwamat al-Islāmiyyah, meaning Islamic Resistance Movement.

Hummus: a spread made from minced chickpeas, seasame, lemon juice, salt, garlic and spices.

What is their origin?

Hamas: created in 1987 by a group of Palestinians to kick Jewish ass.

Hummus: has its origins in midieval or even ancient Middle East, though it’s not clear where or when.

What do they go well with?

Hamas: Islamist imperialism, Israel-bombing, Jew-hating, America-hating, terror-mongering, Gaza-capturing.

Hummus: bread, hard-boiled eggs, falafal, chips, crackers, salads and if your name is Zohan, you eat spoonfuls of it for no particular reason.

Who loves them?

Hamas: Arabs back them. Jews hate them.  Canada and the US hate them. Even the Norwegians and Japs hate them.

Hummus: Jews love it. Arabs love it. Africans love it. Asians love it.

What do they look like?

Hamas:

hamas_war0402

Hummus:

hummus-ck

No prizes for guessing which one I would prefer.

Hamas photo, courtesy The Mustard Seed, and Hummus photo, courtesy Jalpur Millers.

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Picking on today’s Inner Voice in the Hindustan Times.

When we begin to love God and follow the essential teachings of our religion, we fulfill the purpose for which we came to this planet.

What purpose? Why is it my purpose?

If we follow the core teachings and fulfill our duties, we need not have many worries, for God will take care of the rest.

Aren’t thousands of people doing God’s Work everyday when they get blown to bits by bombs, or get crushed during earthquakes, or get swept away by tsunamis or killed by grave diseases?

Faith and love of God or bhakti go together. Faith is not blind faith.

Faith, among other things, is believing in something you can’t see. That, to me, is very blind. Also, we put too much premium on ‘Enlightened Persons’ for humanity’s own good.

The human faculty of reasoning cannot provide answers to all the questions that life presents us. We have to rely on faith and intuition in such cases.

Exactly. For once, I agree. The question of Life, The Universe and Everything Else is too complicated for the human mind to fathom. But if you use God as the explanation, just how do you explain God?

For cultivating bhakti, we should try to keep our minds free from lust, anger, greed, attachment and pride.

Lust, anger, greed, attachment and pride go hand-in-hand with humanity. Show me a man free of these, and I will show you the elves in my sock drawer.

Reading spiritual books, prayer and japa help us to cultivate bhakti. We may not know the languages in which our scriptures were written or we may find that the modern translations are inaccurate.

This is why I choose not to read them.

Prayer is our effort to commune with the divine.

But if I pray to the elves living in my sock drawer, I’d be called a loon. Why? Because elves don’t exist?

We can tell our hopes and fears to God like a child and ask for guidance and support.

I’d rather consult the elves in my sock drawer. Oh wait. It’s the same thing. There’s an old joke which goes thus: when you talk to God, it is prayer; when God talks back, it is schizophrenia.

However, Buddhism suggests that we rely more on our own efforts and less on prayer. Christianity says that the 10 commandments can be summed up in one sentence: Love God and love your neighbour. Just so, the Hindu concept of bhakti or love of God encompasses the love of his creation.

Sometimes, I have nothing but contempt for creation – or whatever you might want to call it. To quote from the Hitchhiker’s Guide, “In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

All religions exhort us to have a friendly attitude towards our fellow humans. Hence, violence and murder are considered grievous sins.

So they are. Still, too many people kill in the name of religion. Why?

What about the possibility of a stage in our lives when we turn atheist? For atheists, the Dalai Lama said: “It does not matter whether you have religious faith or not. All that is required is that you should be a warm-hearted person.

It does not matter if you have faith. It doesn’t matter if you don’t. In the final analysis, it doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

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Let’s look at the bigger picture: humans have always been like the gun-toting boy here. If anything, I take comfort from the fact that man is, perhaps, a more tolerant creature than he was a hundred years ago.

You and I, we can get by in life. We want to trade, earn our bread, live in peace, and hope not to step on someone’s toes. But there’s always somebody out there who wants more. Pushed down hard enough, he will fight back: for elbow-space, money, land, oil, ideology, faith, love, or anything that’s worth fighting — and killing — for.

This is what we’ve been. That’s the truth. We’ve always fought and killed. History is constituted almost entirely of man’s territorial ambitions. There’s no end to this. The more we kill, the more we annex, the greater we are. Ashoka The Great, Alexander The Great, and so on.

As long as he exists, man will fight man. Bloodshed and war know no end. Let the loss of human life not surprise you anymore. There will be lazy politicians, there will be police lapses, Intelligence will continue to sit on its butt, and maybe someday you will be sitting on a park bench or at a film theatre when you suddenly become toast. This is small matter.

There’s no end to this, and the only way to escape it all is death. I’m saddened by the incidents in Mumbai and I am in one of my skeptical moods. But I’d be happy to be proven wrong.

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Devarshi pointed me to a Facebook search result for Mujahideen. My first thought was to have the groups reported. My second thought was, “Wait, everyone deserves a chance to speak.” Then, I noticed some hateful comments in one group and decided to have them reported. My submission is just a drop in the ocean. Perhaps you can help, too.

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Suppose you’re the kind who never break their promises.

Let’s say you made a promise about something to someone.

Let’s say, you once heard a story about the benevolent nature of ‘X’, and it inspired you promise yourself to emulate ‘X’.

But sometime later, you realise that the story about the benevolence of ‘X’ was false.

In fact, you have arrived to the conclusion that ‘X’ never existed, and the stories you had heard about him were baseless.

But you had made a promise to yourself. What happens to it?

And what if you can no longer get yourself to keep the promise?

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The following is a poem by Taeer, a shayar and Closet Atheist.

है वजूद खुदा का, कैसे मान लिया आप ने?
अनजाने डर को खूब नाम दिया आप ने …

हम को तो ऐतबार का सबब नही मिलता ,
कहीं बेवजह तो नही भरोसा किया आप ने?

अपने ही बंदो से जो बेपर्दा न हो सका,
फलक पे मकाम उसका, मान लिया आप ने …

गर है वह हर जगह तो कैद क्यों करना पड़ा?
या कहो उसे भी कोने में बिठा दिया आप ने …

देह्लीज़ पे जा के चंद सिक्के चढा आते हो,
खुदा से भी कारोबार , खूब किया आप ने …

औरो को खुशी दे , ताईर दुआ कर लेता ,
उस पर भी बना दी कितनी कहानियाँ आप ने…

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Whom does an atheist thank when it’s Friday?

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My colleague Deepika has done a story I wish I had done. It goes:

Tennis was not quite blessed in the land of the Sathya Sai Baba. The India-Philippines tennis test series at Puttaparthi — the home of the Sri Sathya Sai Baba — could not take place a couple of weeks ago because of bizarre circumstances.

According to sources, the first of the two ties — India won the second 3-0 at the DLTA facility here — did not happen because the Sai Baba could not turn up to inaugurate the tie and bless the players.

Apparently, Doordarshan had begun the live telecast of the game only to be told that since the godman hasn’t shown up to “bless” the event, the fixture would be cancelled. However, the tennis association says this was done because of a power failure at the venue.

This story amuses me for many reasons, one of them being that I’m an unbeliever in a family of Sai devotees. Not your normal devotees, but the Saturday Bhajan Mandli variety.

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