Agnosticism: The lazy man’s atheist?

For the longest time, I have told people (and myself) that I’m agnostic. Now that’s a pretty big statement; I’ve been raised by ardent Hindu parents who took me on annual pilgrimages all over South India (much to my sister’s and my dismay) and making such a declaration would come as a huge blow to them, to say the least. So was it some epiphany on one of these many trips that led to my disillusionment? Or did I perhaps come across a great book/article that changed my life? I wish I knew. But I do know when it happened – somewhere during my UG I just decided that I’m not entirely sure I believe there is a God. Bam. I’m Agnostic.

Now this leads me to the next part of my rambling: having decided that I don’t know if I believe in the existence of one omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent being who created us, I had to decide right? Whether to restore my faith (at which point I realized “my faith” only included me praying not to fail in mathematics every year) or go non-believer. Either way, it’s a big leap and frankly, I wasn't ready for it.

It wasn't like I never tried. I was still taken to temples by parents and I tried to feel that spiritual upliftment I always saw my dad have and I felt nothing. I tried to think, maybe I’m an atheist who’s just afraid to admit it. And that was when it hit me: my Agnosticism wasn't some transitional period. It was just my desperate means to procrastinate the inevitable: admitting I’m an atheist.

I wondered, then, whether this was the case with ALL agnostics out there. Were we just waiting for that nudge? I mean, if we’re willing to say we’re “not sure” if we believe in God’s existence, how much farther is it to get to we “don’t” believe in His existence.

But I had to admit, there were moments when I couldn't wrap the thought around my head: no invisible hand to catch me when I fall, no one to pray to for a miracle… why would I want to rob myself of that? Why can’t I just coast my way to a deathbed in my uncertain state? Saying something doesn't exist because there’s no proof seemed pretty reasonable at this point, but was I ready? It was a lot to give up.

Well, I wasn't ready then. At 19, it  seemed too big a commitment, I’d rather remain an agnostic. But now, at 22, I know I’d just been lying to myself this whole while. And so I’m coming out of the Agnostic closet – I’m here, I'm Atheistic, get used to it!

Until my next exam is done and I await my results, anyway…

Not a Valentine's Day post

The 15th of February... belated wishes, St. Valentine. It was with great self-control that I stopped myself from posting on Valentine's Day. Simply because I'm one of the biggest suckers for the holiday and I'm trying not to indulge myself and posting the day after was the best I could manage!

Oh, man. I HATE being a romantic. But I'm glad I know I am. There's nothing worse than the kind that make tall claims of hating romance while shamelessly indulging in the same. Tsk, tsk. If you're a non-believer, be my guest. But don't go playing the it's-not-for-me card with wondrous arm candy and suitors by the score.

So, how did I spend the day? With the ones I love? Well, yes, sort of. I do, everyday! What was different was I didn't daydream too much about possibilities and randomly running into my soulmate. Yep, I believe in Soulmates. When you know, you know... you know?

I listened to Adele's 'Someone Like You' (I have this amazing ability to cry for songs I can't even relate to but surprisingly, I didn't cry for this one!) as it was stuck in my head the whole day, and well, Adele is beyond superb. Here's the song that did crush my heart, though -

Elton John - Someday Out of the Blue

One word: Nostalgia. I can't think of anything in particular, but feel so deeply for this number.

'Not so long ago, seems like eternity. 
Those sweet afternoons still capture me...'

The idea of growing up and growing apart; losing yourself, it's one of my worst fears. Thankfully, I'm changing at a careful pace; trying hard not to stereotype myself or become the opposite of me. Scary place.

'Twas a good day, overall. Splendid serenity comes so rarely, I'm glad I could enjoy it for one peaceful day.

Say What?

Unfortunately, this is yet another rambling. How much does one want to know and how much does one know - two very different things, yes. That's what I didn't think for a long time. I belong to the rare group of people that listen. Perhaps too much. That's probably why I feel shepherded from place to place and unable to enjoy myself entirely. 'Why am I here?' pops in, inadvertently. 'Ah, yes, I came here with so-and-so...'

Ouch. Poor so-and-so. They're probably nice, but I can't always have a blast, can I?

'I heard from Blah that Glah is idiotic'

Now, Glah can be a person, place or thing.

I will not take Blah's word for it. Why should I? I might like Glah! Why risk the possibility of an argument with Blah when I can simply sample Glah for myself and then speak? Then arises the problem of specifics -- was it the right Glah?

Oh, gee. I don't think I checked, my bad. Too many possibilities are indeed awful.

So... it's time.

A lot of things, I must get off my chest. Literally. Physically. Completely. Wholly. Truly. Why? Because I must protect myself. When being pulled in different directions, it is difficult to know where to go: find your footing. You take one step at a time. Pick up the pieces, get back together. I will not concentrate on the difficulty of this task but merely accept it and move on. That is what life has taught me. One person cannot mean so many different things. At least, that is what makes sense right now. Letting go. But I cannot completely let go. Why? (It seems) From this standpoint, all my life people have defined me. Why? I did not speak up. Why? I was not confident enough. Why? I questioned Myself. Ah. Note to self: stop doing that. My instincts may lead me in many directions. But there is an uncertain force that brings me back to alignment. Makes me feel balanced. Like a Libran. Which I am. Hmmm...

Definitions

And so it starts - I pull up a chair, stretch out my limbs and think. Think. Not worry, not imagine, not plan or be pressured by people, expectations... anything. I realise it's been a while since I did that; just snip the strings... and think.

Yes. Now that I am absolute; outside it all, I find clarity. And I find myself being pulled back to reality as my father calls my name. I am Reshma. What's in a name, I wonder? Mine has a remote connection to silk; smoothness. I like the sound of that. I like my name, I realise. And how it defines me.

How do you go about defining a person, though? Not by their connections and the roles they play; that is too variable. Not by their actions; that too is inconsistent. What is it, then, that defines a human being? Makes them who they are? Their essence lies... in their intent, perhaps?

I am baffled (clearly) but I'm glad I took the first step. Out of the corner of my mind, a door creaks; beckoning me. I smile to myself in content. I've begun... at last!