Category Archives: Society

Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – From “The Life of Pi” by Yann Martel

We are all born like Catholics, aren’t we–in limbo, without religion, until some figure introduces us to God? After that meeting the matter ends for most of us. If there is a change, it is usually for the lesser rather than the greater; many people seem to lose God along life’s way. That was not my case. The figure in question for me was an older sister of Mother’s, of a more traditional mind, who brought me to a temple when I was a small baby. Auntie Rohini was delighted to meet her newborn nephew and thought she would include Mother Goddess in the delight. “It will be his symbolic first outing,” she said. It’s a samskara!” Symbolic indeed. We were in Madurai; I was the fresh veteran of a seven-hour train journey. No matter. Off we went on this Hindu rite of passage, Mother carrying me, Auntie propelling her. I have no conscious memory of this first go-around in a temple, but some smell of incense, some play of light and shadow, some
flame, some burst of colour, something of the sultriness and mystery of the place must have stayed with me. A germ of religious exaltation, no bigger than a mustard seed, was sown in me and left to germinate. It has never stopped growing since that day.

I am a Hindu because of sculptured cones of red kumkum powder and baskets of yellow turmeric nuggets, because of garlands of flowers and pieces of broken coconut, because of the clanging of bells to announce one’s arrival to God, because of the whine of the reedy nadaswaram and the beating of drums, because of the patter of bare feet against stone floors down dark corridors pierced by shafts of sunlight, because of the fragrance of incense, because of flames of arati lamps circling in the darkness, because of bhajans being sweetly sung, because of elephants standing around to bless, because of colourful murals telling colourful stories, because of foreheads carrying,
variously signified, the same word–faith . I became loyal to these sense impressions even before I knew what they meant or what they were for. It is my heart that commands me so. I feel at home in a Hindu temple. I am aware of Presence, not personal the way we usually feel presence, but something larger. My heart still skips a beat when I catch sight of the murti, of God Residing, in the inner sanctum of a temple. Truly I am in a sacred cosmic womb, a place where everything is born, and it is my sweet luck to behold its living core. My hands naturally come together in reverent worship. I hunger for prasad, that sugary offering to God that comes back to us as a sanctified treat.
My palms need to feel the heat of a hallowed flame whose blessing I bring to my eyes and forehead.

But religion is more than rite and ritual. There is what the rite and ritual stand for. Here too I am a Hindu. The universe makes sense to me through Hindu eyes. There is Brahman, the world soul, the sustaining frame upon which is woven, warp and weft, the cloth of being, with all its decorative elements of space and time. There is Brahman nirguna, without qualities, which lies beyond understanding, beyond description, beyond approach; with our poor words we sew a suit for it–One, Truth, Unity, Absolute, Ultimate Reality, Ground of Being–and try to make it fit, but Brahman nirguna always bursts the seams. We are left speechless. But there is also Brahman saguna, with qualities, where the suit fits. Now we call it Shiva, Krishna, Shakti, Ganesha; we can approach it with some understanding; we can discern certain attributes–loving, merciful, frightening;–and we feel the gentle pull of relationship. Brahman saguna is Brahman made manifest
to our limited senses, Brahman expressed not only in gods but in humans, animals, trees, in a handful of earth, for everything has a trace of the divine in it. The truth of life is that Brahman is no different from atman, the spiritual force within us, what you might call the soul. The individual soul touches upon the world soul like a well reaches for the water table. That which sustains the universe beyond thought and language, and that which is at the core of us and struggles for expression, is the same thing. The finite within the infinite, the infinite within the finite. If you ask me how Brahman and atman relate precisely, I would say in the same way the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit relate: mysteriously. But one thing is clear: atman seeks to realize Brahman, to be united with the Absolute, and it travels in this life on a pilgrimage where it is born and dies, and is born again and dies again, and again, and again, until it manages to shed the sheaths that imprison it here below. The paths to liberation are numerous, but the bank along the way is always the same, the Bank of Karma, where the liberation account of each of us is credited or debited depending on our actions.

This, in a holy nutshell, is Hinduism, and I have been a Hindu all my life. With its notions in mind I see my place in the universe.

But we should not cling! A plague upon fundamentalists and literalists! I am reminded of a story of Lord Krishna when he was a cowherd. Every night he invites the milkmaids to dance with him in the forest. They come and they dance. The night is dark, the fire in their midst roars and crackles, the beat of the music gets ever faster–the girls dance and dance and dance with their sweet lord, who has made himself so abundant as to be in the arms of each and every girl. But the moment the girls become possessive, the moment each one imagines that Krishna is her partner alone, he vanishes. So it is that we should not be jealous with God.

I know a woman here in Toronto who is very dear to my heart. She was my foster mother. I call her Auntieji and she likes that. She is Quebecoise. Though she has lived in Toronto for over thirty years, her French-speaking mind still slips on occasion on the understanding of English sounds. And so, when she first heard of Hare Krishnas, she didn’t hear right. She heard “Hairless Christians,” and that is what they were to her for many years. When I corrected her, I told her that in fact she was not so wrong; that Hindus, in their capacity for love, are indeed hairless Christians, just as Muslims, in the way they see God in everything, are bearded Hindus, and Christians, in their devotion to God, are hat-wearing Muslims.

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Who is the weaker sex!?

My friend of the opposite sex asked whether it is okay for a guy to keep insulting you in a sarcastic way, constantly saying that you’re boring, not appreciating the efforts you’ve put in towards a relationship and is sarcastically rude most of the time.


To this I’d say, yes, it is indeed perfectly natural. Now, I am no psychiatrist but I’m a man of logic and science. And to this I put forward this explanation. Enjoy!


Men need to know that they are superior to the weaker sex. Although, if you ask me, men have been under the false notion that they are the stronger sex, as I strongly feel that, the weaker sex is actually the stronger sex because they are apparently the weakness of the stronger sex, hence, you ladies have been very cunning all these years. We’ve been fooled all this time, decades, and centuries even. It is times like these that the famous Doordarshan slogan ventures my mind, ‘Jaago Grahak Jaago’.


So, the thing is, yes, in a relationship, men insult women, casually of course, about trivial things cause they want to know that they hold ground. They insult their better half and in return, the ‘weaker’ sex, being as always, “cunning” keeps them under the false impression that they’re the one leading. When the time comes though, bam!! They’re all over you, because God gave the ‘weaker’ sex a too-good weapon to tackle the still weaker, i.e., the stronger sex! And that weapon my friend has led to the demise of great kingdoms. Many a tales have confirmed to this, some known, some not spoken of and some in the making.

So it is high time that we change the current trend and make this sexist society a better place to live. There are plenty many instances where I feel, we need to bring about change:


  • Allow Men’s night (free entry) in clubs
  • Make Gilette Shave Gel Ad free of Women
  • Make a separate section that says ‘MEN ONLY’ in all public buses
  • As stated well by Saif Ali Khan in the movie ‘Love Aaj Kal’ (which I felt was an awesome movie, however, many friends of mine disagree to the extent that they’d kill me if I publicize this) that the name of the ‘Girl’ always comes first in a desi love story.


While, there are plenty many instances to this menace, I’d limit myself to a few. With this my dear reader, I’d put the panel of decision in your hands, be the voice of reason and decide for yourself, who is the weaker sex!?

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