God created us. Well that’s what I have been told. And I don’t want to spend my life thinking and forming my own opinion, and looking for my creator. Well, my parents are my creator; and for them, their parents.
So we have different religions, different beliefs, different sets of followers of each sect, each having a group of fanatic people who would die and kill for the same, rather than believing in “live and let others live” or as Ruskin Bond once said, “Live and help others live”. So we are selfish, arrogant, hypocrites, yet somewhere the heart beats, and makes us realize we are alive, there’s still hope.
If we celebrate God, shouldn’t we be the one celebrating love? Some say venting out anger and frustration is a relief. I say loving and being loved is a zillion times better. That’s what opposite sexes are for, right? (Or maybe within same sex). But the most important thing is that love should be there. And unless there’s love for fellow human beings, I don’t believe we get any closer to God. People call that nirvana, being closer to God; but for me, being closer to the one I love is more important.
I really don’t enjoy the festivals. I mean, they are joyous moments, fables say good won over evil that day. We celebrate someone else win, someone else pure heart. But did we take a look inside ours? Is our heart pure enough to celebrate that purity? I mean, I go out and snap the pictures, happy friends, happy family, but something doesn’t fit right for me. Everything’s a puzzle.
Well, if the man-made religions, practices, customs, sects, caste etc. in the name of the God separates me from my loved ones, the one person I am happy with, the one person with whom I want to be the creator of another life form; should I believe in God? Love and respect; this is the only religion I respect. And I know, there are many people like me, who believe in love, but somehow the axe of thoughts of other people, the axe of hypocrites, the axe of beliefs falls too hard on the chord of love, and slits it.