Tag Archives: Religion

I’m Sorry …

… for being so absent lately.








I’ve been busy because Trump exists.




See you soon my peeps xoxo


The World lost a great soul last night

One of our most revered Indians, Dr APJ Abdul Kalam breathed his last breath last night doing what I suspect was his most cherished love, igniting young minds.

Not many know of this great Indian, one of the few idols I personally harbour, Dr Kalam constantly inspired me with his words and most importantly, his thoughts and actions.

India’s favourite nuclear scientist and former president, I would go as far as to suggest that he was India’s version of Einstein. A beacon of hope for all, who continuously displayed how someone who had so much knowledge about a potentially devastating field, used it so humanely.

Dr Kalam is an example for so many of us, a symbol of religious tolerance, the epitome of how socialism and politics truly can work hand in hand and most notably, an inspiration for so many poor who dream big. A son of a boat owner, extremely impoverished in childhood waking before dawn to make some money for his close knit family, his sister pawned jewellery so she could help put her brother through school, and India is immensely grateful for her sisterly love.

Thank you Dr Kalam for awaking and igniting all of our minds, you will always be cherished in the soul of every Indian who dared to dream and care.

What’s your religion?

There aren’t many questions I think are useless honestly because questions provoke thought, in turn promoting discussion which is the foundation block for discovery that is the cornerstone for innovation, and that is almost always a great thing I think.

Besides I’m Indian, so being nosy is almost a by product.

However the question of “What religion do you belong to” has always got me stumped unless being probed on the train by the sweet old lady sitting next to me who is in fact an in the closet devout catholic that has personally made it her mission to convert all the other innocent “got no other option” public transport “enthusiasts”, or maybe it’s just me. I naturally have one of those faces that scream I’m lost and need to find purpose so please help!

Why does anyone need to know what religion someone belongs to, or even if they do? How is this answer going to dictate how we proceed in our conversation or relationship? Do you feel more connected with me if we follow the same religion? Do belonging to different faiths make us incompatible? If yes, shouldn’t we be worried?

I’d like to think that we all follow the religion of humanity because as far as I can tell, the study of theology reveals one very obvious characteristic when the religions of the world are truly dissected that everyone, and I mean everyone knows deep down – what is right and wrong. According to me, singling out someone to steer clear of solely based on the faith they choose to pursue is definitely wrong. Very wrong.

Agree or disagree?

Gazing through the Perspective Window …

I broke my seven day fast today and once my bouncing off the walls in excitement celebratory activities at the thought of being able to consume garlic and onion once again had subsided, I started to reflect once more on why fasting is so important to me on my journey of gratefulness.

People will often question me on the point of fasting and though I used to struggle on the various “religious” reasons for the abstaining of certain foods, I have come to realise that fasting is honestly a very personal struggle. I commenced this fast quite a few years ago at first to be a sympathetic communal faster with my mum, basically so she didn’t feel like she was being punished (as I saw it in my mind at the time) on her own, my own mother beginning her Navratri fasting endeavours when her mum couldn’t keep them one year as she was ill at the opportune event.

I recall inhumane pangs of scrumptious desire for seductively mouth-watering delights during my seven to eight day struggle as being a lot more severe when I started in comparison to my (almost) indifferent attitude now. Don’t get me wrong, I still rush to the fridge on Ashtami to break my fast the way a raging bull gallops towards a vibrant red cloth, my fingers clambering to get a carrot in my mouth before Bugs Bunny could possibly finish his famous rendition of “what’s up Doc?”, but I don’t feel quite as desperate any longer.

The reason for this, I believe, is my newfound enthusiasm for the concept of fasting on an individual level. This has nothing to do with any misguided Eureka cloaked Holy Grail moments or sudden knee jerking spiritual awakenings, but more with my “let’s stop and have a look around” attitude that I somehow just (fortunately) fell into.

It’s so easy for me to take what I have for granted – my latest designer-wear clothes, my 58 inch Plasma TV Set I am joined at the hip to, my gluttonous never ending need to absolutely have those pair of pumps, and all the other unquenchable satanic requirements recklessly pounding against the walls of my cranium. As simplistic as it may sound, nothing makes me comprehend the way it feels to be so close to something and not being able to have it than when I am fasting. When I can smell all the wondrously wafting, teasing aromas that weave their meticulous yet sinister paths up my nasal passages, the way tantalising shades burst their delectable splendour on my partners plates, where heavenly fragrances, tastes and textures are so close I could touch and then devour them instantly … and still so cruelly not being able to consume them.

My mother used to often recite the worn out slogan of “do you know how lucky you are to be able to eat? Do you understand that there are so many starving children out there who dream to get what you have on your plate at this very moment?” every single time I complained about what was put in front of me. Until I started fasting, I just thought it was just another one of those pesky “learn as you live, words of wisdom” moments my parents were so bent on imparting with me until I realised how true it was.

I see so many around me that are so devastatingly less fortunate and fasting twice a year reminds me of those individuals perpetually. For a few hours, I can at least sympathise (clearly not understand) but empathise with them and the turmoil they must be going through about being so close to living the way everyone’s birth right should allow for and being so cruelly locked out.

So this morning, as I broke my fast and felt my mind shamelessly flirting with the devilry vegetables encompass I once again remembered how fortunate I am to be able to put my finger on something and get it. It makes me all that more grateful for the gifts I have and to remember not to so easily dismiss those around me who eye me with what people often mistake for envious disdain but to actually see beyond our glazed looking glass of perspectives.

Wishing everyone a Happy Ashtami come Ram Naumi and may each and every one of us be blessed with all the wonders the Universe has to offer, sprinkled with just the right amount of genuine compassion and understanding 🙂