Understanding the Religion

Fold your hands and bow down, visit holy places, repeat the prayers or shlokas—what does it all mean? As children, we just followed along without questioning. When we got curious and asked for explanations, the answer was often, “Just do it.”

In our teenage years, we realized that many of the stories behind different rituals were rooted in fear—fear of God, fear of punishment if we didn’t comply. When we argued, we were labeled as rebellious, doubtful, and stubborn. We decided it was easier to participate without questioning, to avoid being in the family’s bad books. We simply gave up on trying to understand.

Hearing the same stories year after year and performing the same rituals, they became habitual for us.

When I was 22 years old, the death of my grandfather shook me to my core. In search of answers, I took my religion seriously for the first time in my life.

I was fascinated by the Bhagavad Gita. Arjuna articulated my questions perfectly, and Krishna’s responses led to even more questions. Krishna knew that the mind struggles with simplicity, so he churned the mind to such an extent that we eventually arrived at one point: “Connect with the inner self, to higher consciousness. From there, one can find all the answers.”

I wondered, “Is this a conclusion or a puzzle? Connect with my inner self, higher consciousness? How is that possible?”

At first, I decided to follow the temple and its rituals, hoping they might help me connect to my inner self. I started visiting the temple twice a day, attending prayers, stopped eating onions and garlic, danced in kirtans on the streets, and participated in all the exhausting Rath Yatras and pilgrimage trips. An exhausted body does quiet the mind, at least for a few minutes.

However, I didn’t agree with some of the temple’s concepts, such as their preference for males over females, and other man-made ideas. But I overlooked them because I was determined to find the answers.

I continued temple rituals sincerely for many years. One day, while performing these rituals, I had a sudden realization. On weekdays when I couldn’t manage to get up on time, I would rush through my routine to get to college. I’d hurriedly clean the Pooja area, bathe the deity, light the Diya, and sing the Bhajan—all as mere formalities. My mind would be preoccupied with thoughts like packing my bags, finishing breakfast, and catching the bus on time.

On holidays, however, I was more relaxed and unhurried. I enjoyed every part of the ritual. This contrast was a significant discovery for me. What is the point of rituals if I’m not mentally present? After that, I made a conscious effort to slow down during prayers, chanting, and temple visits. Without even being familiar with terms like awareness and observation, I was becoming more aware.

Since birth, we perceive everything in physical form—mother, father, food, water, clothes, school, etc. It’s easier to connect with the tangible. Focusing on a specific object or mantra helps stabilize our restless minds. Visualizing God in some form with closed eyes also makes it easier to feel a connection through stories of His kindness.

After practicing rituals for 15 years, I have been practicing meditation for 10 years. Now, I can easily feel peace and silence without relying on any particular name or form. The purpose of my journey was to realize this. Rituals are beautiful and foster family bonding, especially if we can add appropriate stories based on hope, courage, and unconditional love.

These days, I love participating in family traditions. The difference now is that I understand what I’m doing.

4o

Poem

I am beyond names and forms,

I am beyond mind, desires, thoughts, and fear, 

I am beyond love and attachment,

I am beyond restlessness and anxiety, 

I am beyond success and failure,

I am beyond sadness and joy,

But also in names and forms, mind, desires, thoughts, and fear; love, attachment, restlessness, anxiety, success, and failure; sadness and joy.