A Meditation on Faith

Of the multitudinous lessons that St. Mary’s taught me between the summers of 1997 and 2006, the greatest were learnt not within the confines of the walls of the classroom. Rather, I learnt them during solitary walks around the playground during the long afternoon breaks in the mollifying shadow of the church. In retrospect, each of those walks was an open-­eyed meditation: a reflection on the day that was and an anticipation of the evening that would, hopefully, be. And since the image of all­-forgiving Mother Mary, with her arms spread wide, was ever present in the background, those meditative thoughts simultaneously became confessions too. A son can lie to the whole world. But can he lie to his mother?

After all these years of separation, let me, O’ Mother, make another confession to you: Of all those great lessons I learnt lying on your lap, the one I have treasured most dearly and carried closest to my heart through these long years is your lesson in the power of faith. So, on this fiftieth year of the existence of this great, little school of ours, what better tribute can I offer you if not another meditation? This time, let the meditation be on faith.

The edifice on which the present generation of so-­called liberals and so-­called nationalists continue to fight is logic. L­O­G­I­C. Both sides qualify their arguments with a "because". "My nation is great because..." versus "Nation is an illusion because...". This binary holds true not only for the debate on nationalism. It holds true for almost every polarized discourse of the day. A religious fundamentalist claims supremacy of his religion based on certain 'logical' premises.

On the other hand the quintessential rationalist or atheist counters these with another set of 'logical' and 'scientific' arguments.

This mode of argument is itself founded on two basic assumptions: (a) the assumption of causation, and (b) the assumption of choice.

However, what I think is that phenomena like nation and religion cannot exist in the kingdom of logic. They never can! In the first place, it is hard to pin­point in absolute timespace the causal factors of such phenomena. Secondly, in the temporal world of limitations, one hardly ever gets to choose things. This very life that I find myself in was not my choice! So, how can my nation be? How can my religion be? [I do not mean to say that one cannot at all choose one's nation or religion. What I mean to say is, no matter what "choice" one makes, that choice itself is subject to limitations beyond individual control.]

Instead, these phenomena must exist in another realm: in the kingdom of faith. F­A­I­T­H.

This faith is inexplicable. It is like love, if not a form of love itself. It is that love which one human soul feels for another; then tries to rationally explain or justify to himself the "why" behind the emotion; and finally fails... only to realize that what lies behind can only be seen and cherished in its reflection, and never in itself. [And I wonder​ how beautiful that thing in itself (​noumenon) be if its reflection (​phenomenon) alone is so beautiful!]

This faith is the first kick that a mother giraffe lovingly gives her newborn in the belief that it would thus learn how to stand on its own feet. This faith is that first leap a baby seagull takes into the air of the ocean that it must call its abode for a lifetime, in the belief that it would be able to fly. This faith is the first time your father lets his hands go off the handles of your bicycle in the belief that you would learn to balance on your own. And the moment you are indeed (!) able to balance and paddle on... Yes, that is the moment of vindication, of substantiation of faith! A faith which no barometer can gauge, no fathometer can fathom.

My love for this world that I find myself in, and for the people with whom I have come to share this little piece of the universe is grounded on this very faith.

This faith also happens to animate my love for this bewilderingly beautiful country I was born into: this ancient civilization whose vibrant sights beckon me like the wisps of the night... in whose warm, motherly embraces I have come closer to comprehend what life encompasses, what freedom embodies.

Nonetheless, this faith that I live by today has withstood — and has thus been strengthened by — a tempestuous phase of near-­militant, unempathetic rationality that had come to govern my intellect over an extended juvenescence. The persuasive power of logic had come to dominate a major portion of my adolescence. This force had almost intoxicated and numbed me to the unanalyzable and organic unity of the world I live in. I was thinking more and living less. And the more I thought, the more cynical I became: Sceptical of any possibility of redemption of the human society from its mechanical, centrifugal "progression" away from its ancient heart.

However, despite all such cynicism that had come to characterize those adolescent years, I have lately come to harbour a deep faith in the inherent goodness of the human soul.

If the human soul were merely a ​tabula rasa bereft of any inherent tendency, only love could beget love. And hatred could beget only hatred.

Of all people, the ones who have been exposed most acutely to the most hateful aspects of human society are those who are born and brought up on the streets. They have faced slander, insult, humiliation and deprivation at every step of life. So much so that they have been alienated from love.

Therefore, whenever I see someone from the street trying to smile or speak in a sweet and sober tone — even if that sweetness might be to induce me to buy a five­ rupee pen from him — I am stunned, I am touched. Having faced the worst that life could offer, this person had a choice. He could have chosen to become a robber or a thief or even to commit suicide. But no! He did not! And dared to live. And not only live... Live with Dignity and Honesty. And that convinces me beyond any doubt that Man is destined to be good.

So, if you ever happen to come across a gesture of kindness — or even gentleness — from a street dweller, ask for his name. For here is someone whose depth of character and will to live are unfathomable, if not incomprehensible, hanging only by the slim but strong thread of faith: Faith that the goodness of your soul would overwhelm your robotic appendages to stop, pull your car's window down, and buy that five ­rupee pen (even if you may not need it at that moment) from him, defying all logic of Physics, of Economics, and of Time.