Mother and Child

I came across this blog about a working mom in Mumbai. It is amazing how I love reading all these mom blogs - when I have nothing to do with motherhood or babies! Yes I do have a small new baby in the family, but I've been reading these blogs much before I even knew of this baby's existence.

So anyway, this mother writes about her dilemma concerning religion in her young son's life. Those words could have been mine, if only she wasn't so composed about the whole matter. I have problems with religion. I belong to a very religious family. I was forced to blindly believe. And yet I turned out fine (except when the 'R' word comes along). My parents are extremely accommodating, much more than most parents I saw around me while growing up. I wasn't forbidden to ask questions about God. In fact I think they saw it as a way of strengthening my faith. So they welcomed my inquisitiveness. They patiently and enthusiastically demonstrated their belief - sometimes with their own experiences, sometimes with stories of miraculous events in other people's lives, some mythological tales and mostly with profound proclamations about the power of the Almighty!

As I grew into adulthood, my innocent curiosity changed into aggressive dismissal. My parents' simplified explanations did not hold ground anymore. Now it came down to 'do or die' meaning do as they say or suffer my mother's guilt pangs about allowing a monster like me to live in her house for so many years!

So when I came to the United States, they came with me! No, not to indoctrinate me through Camp Jesus (that will be the day!!!), but to help me settle in! Expectantly, my mom set up a side-table on one corner of the room with photos of her Deity, some prayer books and a rosary. What amazes me is that it took me almost 3 months to dismantle the mobile temple that my mom had lovingly created in my room! It had been full of dust all along - I had not once even touched any of the books or the rosary - and yet I had been afraid of tearing it down. The need for another table and the lack of willingness to spend money on buying a new one led to my decision of the destruction of my temple (how does that sound for a change - "I destroyed my own temple!" - sorry, bad Babri Masjid joke).

The point to note here is the fear that I felt whenever I considered removing those photos - just like the fear that prevents me from writing God with a small 'g'... So I guess my parents did succeed. But what kind of success is it if all they want is for me to tell them that I do pray everyday - when they know deep in their hearts, or maybe even someplace not so deep, that I'm surely not praying on a daily basis!

What I feel bad about is that my parents, with all their good intentions, spoilt a great relationship that I had with my God. I rarely talk to God before I sleep - something I did very often in my childhood. Now the idea of religion is directly linked to expectations of conformity. And so I tell my sister and other young mothers like her - I know you want the best for your child, you want to make it easy for them - so show your kids the whole world, tell them about 2, 5 or 200 religions but in the end, trust their wisdom, respect their individuality, and let them choose.

I know it is much harder than it sounds - but I know its possible.
Good luck :)

P.S. - Notice how my 'mom's and 'mother's are with small 'm's!