God. What an amazingly, overwhelming erratic, enigmatic word. It makes us question our whole belief, our whole selfdom. A single, small word of three letters contains a world of possibilities within itself. The most favorite topic of discussion, the most widely critiqued word and the biggest victim of skepticism. The purpose of writing this article is nothing but to share my views with you all. It’s been quite some time that I’ve been stung by mystification, always pondering about how or what god is. And trust me it’s mind-boggling and terrifically painful to arrive at a conclusion which can be accepted by all. I think that’s what the actual bugbear is. Arriving at a conclusion agreed and acceptable by all seems much more elusive than arriving at a correct one. Eons have passed since the world has been created and I am sure someone somewhere must have had unraveled this mystery named God. Or so I hope.
My idea of God is very vague and yet very confirming, assuring. I do not know how God is, what God is, whether it’s a he or she. But all I know is that “God” is very different from the “image” of God. It has to be. He must be. God cannot be a fragment of so many religions and sects. God cannot only be a white man’s almighty or a black man’s guarding angel. God cannot be someone who will be pleased only if we keep fasts, or lay holy chaddars when we visit him/her in a dargah or magnanimously donate billions without ever cross-checking if a single pie of it is employed in bringing sunshine into a needy person’s life. God cannot be someone charmed only by mantras talking about securing benediction of giving birth to a son. God cannot be someone who is confined in temples or mosques or churches or gurudwaras because if it actually is something so shallow then it’s better if it isn’t there at all.
People often remark,”Where was your God when such and such terrible mishap occurred?” or “Why didn’t your God do something when something so diabolical, inhuman was happening?” What terrifies me more than these questions (reeking with irresponsibility on one’s part) is what if God asks me, “Before waiting for me to do something, why didn’t you do something?” More than being apoplectic for lack of divine intervention, I am afraid of this person living inside my body so comfortable and mum when everything around her is falling apart. More than railing against the existence of an entity, I am terrified of the thought that I might have lost mine all together. More than being awe-struck at the possibility of an infallible, I am frozen at my own weaknesses.
Like I said before, I do not know if God is a loving father or a loving mother or simply an apparition devoid of any gender or stereotypes. But it surely cannot be someone who relishes at blood-baths being conducted on its name. I do not know if it always watches over or protects against every evil but I do know that it gives me a chance to explore, fall and rise again. If there is anything at all which I can say with conviction it’s this, there are innumerable things and occurring which I cannot explain, which science cannot explain and somehow it’s better that way for it transcends hope across our tiny, weak hearts which craves for the possibility of a divinity because otherwise it would be too scary to be devoid of any guiding light and miracles.
My idea of God simply comes from the heart of a girl who is imperfect and scared and hopeful. My idea of God transpires from a soul who believes that there is a positive, guiding force which wants to be loved and cherished as any mortal under the sun. My idea of God develops from an individual scarred with follies but still trusting and forming ideas solely dependent on personal experience rather than fabricating an opinion handed down by holy texts since ages. My idea of God consists more of what God isn’t than what god is. My idea of god is simply an idea, something which keeps on evolving as life grows and to quote the famous adage, “Abhi ke liye itna kafi hai.”