Postcards From J

"Kalina?", I yelled as he screeched to a halt.  He nodded while three women and four tiny children kept popping out of his rickshaw. I was too tired to notice the expression on his face. Soon, I was seated inside with my bags - groceries and handbag and laptop bag and lunch bag and office Diwali gift. Phew. "Aap <mumble mumble mumble>?" "Kya kahaa?" ("What did you say?") "Kya aap Hindu ho?" ("Are you a Hindu?") I was a bit zapped at the question. Thinking I had said 'yes', he continued... "Dimaag kharab kar diya. Yeh sab Islam waale... itne saare rickshaa mein baett gaye..." ("They've given me a headache. These Muslims... so many of them occupied my rickshaw...") I cut him short. "Aapka kya matlab hai? Iss mein dharm kahaa se aa gaya?" ("What do you mean? Where did religion creep into this?") Sensing that I was not particularly thrilled...

Growing up as a child and as a teenager, I always had a strong sense of my religious obligations. I was an active participant in church services, attended Catechism class with much enthusiasm, took initiative with organizing programmes for others, and in general, was considered a "good girl". While I didn't exactly turn out to be "bad" in any way, my spiritual connection with the Almighty has been on a massive decline since a few years now. Make no mistake though. I still believe in God. Or rather in the idea of "God" - someone out there who's all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful and who we can turn to in life's joyous and sorrowful moments. What I've experienced in the last few years though is a sense of discontent, a disconnect from that omniscient force. And it's only because I started questioning what happened/happens around me; why we blindly follow certain rituals, why we are so concerned with getting others converted to our bel...