god is in the details (or is she?)

i read the posts and comments of venu and tas and got to reflecting about religion. let me proclaim at the very outset that i am an atheist. this is a decision i have come to after long decades of doubt, questioning and often angst . it has not been an easy decision to come by. however having reached it, i find myself more calm, rational and peaceful than i would ever be if i had held on to any archaic concepts handed down to me without thought of the change that the world is undergoing or the cataclasmic changes that will inevitably occur later. i dont adhere to any dogma either and have no intentions of trying to change others. but this is just random thought on a subject that in modern times has become an issue fraught with discord where sane people have to step gingerly lest they tread on sensibilities.
i grew up on giri road and as any behrampuria knows we had a cafeteria of the holies to pick and choose from, having grown up practically cheek to jowl with religion. Could anyone live on a street, that had an imposing church at one end and a shrine at the other end, with a gurudwara sprawled in between, and avoid God? It permeated everyday life quite subtly and unconsciously colored all our memories. The creeds were gentle then, soft and giving, tolerant and sustaining. Our street could have been God's own favourite alley -it housed places of worship of all religions. But God was a simple being then. We went to church on Sundays, with our Christian neighbours, more in hopes of receiving the Eucharist through a thin wafer and trying to sip on the wine, than with any hopes of receiving salvation. I also found the clean lines of the pews and the solemn organ music soothing and more conducive to reflection than our noisy temple with its beggars at the gate. We would also dress in Sunday finery along with the Sahus. Bodo baba, their grandfather, a self-proclaimed atheist, would admonish us as we dressed up –" Is Jesu going to look at your pretty clothes or into your soul?" Bodma, bristling with suppressed annoyance at his perpetual absence from this weekly ritual, would retort- "At least He will see us, which is more than can be said of you". To this Bodo baba would gently say –"But, my dear, Omnipresent and Omnipotent as He is, He can and does see me, you know " and smile roguishly. Off we would go to show Jesu our new clothes, new jewelry and tell Him the latest gossip in town.
Jesu never frowned or looked angry with all our shenanigans in church – in fact He was uniformly calm through these tumultuous Sunday doings and probably had a good laugh at all of us, Bodo baba included. Jesu was regularly roped in on all occasions at their house, having to hear a detailed rehash of the day on the dining table. Dinner would be served and while we children fidgeted and the dal grew cold, Bodma would begin grace, which was a long recounting of the events of the day and went on to chronicle all its tiny joys and tribulations. Bhabani was not getting a suitable girl, could Jesu please send a few his way, the cows were not giving as much milk as last week, could He also look into it? I remember one day when their relative lay bloated in his hospital bed with paralytic ileus and Jesu was implored to make his bowels move! Whew! He sure must have had his hands full but after two days of pleading, relented and Halleluiah, our patient passed gas! Jesu helped us also – one time when Bodoma thought we had got too large a portion of fish and was trying surreptiously to remove some from Julies plate, Julie loudly declared – “Jesu- bappa, Bodma moro macho nei jauchi” and lo and behold , the piece was restored. That must have boosted Julie’s faith no end.
Gurunanak was not spared either. A little way down the street was the gurudwara- white and serene; the tiles squeaky clean with the scrubbing of its devotees - kar-seva. Come Baisakhi or any feast day of the gurus and our vanar-sena descended in a chatter into its precincts. We washed our feet in the flowing water at the entrance and ran into the room where the Granth Sahib lay, resplendent in brocade and silk, fanned silently by the granthi. After listening to the kirtans we ran to the langar, eating greedily the halwa-puri and khichadi so liberally handed out by the sevaks. So simple a faith and so gentle its people. Only later would some madness mutate a few and unleash temporary mayhem amongst holy walls. I and the world too, were innocent then, of such things.
But now faith has a thousand tongues and each of these speaks with violent force. God must have suddenly become auditorily challenged, so strident is its tone. We need now to learn of Him anew. but who will teach us- the saffron clad man who attacks women who dare wear lipstick and go out to that unholiest of unholies reserved only for hard working males who need to relax with his cronies after a hard days work? or the naked priest who strides under the canopy of the sky preaching non-violence but commiting murder with aplomb? or maybe the robed one who advocates that mutilating female circumcision be performed on young girls till they cannot even pass blood or urine just so that they may not enjoy the dubious pleasures that their rapist husbands are going to inflict on them? i really think the time has come for us to evolve and search within ourselves for whatever truth that becalms us- a truth however based on humanity, kindness, charity, a love for the Gaia whom we are plundering and laying bare. a truth that acknowledges that women are the same as men ( bar one barr chromosome) and have equal desires, hopes and aspirations. a truth that brings wanted children into a gentle world and looks after them with equal care. a truth that allows questions and welcomes questioning because only doubt can lead to self discovery. the world is becoming more "religious" but less human. can we save ourselves and this precious piece of stardust coalesced into the miracle that is our earth?