A Hindu's conversation with St. Peter

I am condemned. Or so I’ve been told. I was perfectly unmindful of my condemnation until, when on my way to a spa to be massaged into a blissful state of contentment (Oh how I love spas), I saw certain signage, raised high above a Bangalore traffic signal, informing me about the sad state of my soul.

Now I grew up in Christian country. By that, I mean to say, I grew up in a country where Christianity was the predominant belief system (I hate the word religion). It never bothered me much what people thought about their God, until they told me there was something wrong with mine. I remember a certain conversation in Mr. Machiya’s chemistry class that made me especially uncomfortable.

Classmate 1: What do you people believe in anyway? Don’t you have like a million Gods?

Classmate 2 (laughing): Yeah, I heard you guys think that you could’ve been like a dog in a previous life?

Quite a few people joined in that laughter. I not going to lie, it was especially painful for me to hear it. Because nobody likes to be made to feel that the belief systems of their people are some sort of a joke. Nor do they wish to be made to feel that somehow, their strange thinking needs to be ‘corrected’. I think their reactions might have been different had I informed them that Pythagoras, one of the great Greek philosophers of western civilization, believed in that very concept of the transmigration of souls. I daresay, that I had informed them, their laughter may have been muted. I dare to say it because it was probably true.

Adding to this constant, almost subliminal, messaging that sprung from the subconscious belief of the superiority of western culture over everyone and everything else, were the occasional philanthropists coming to Africa with their agenda to save our souls. Oh how many kind compliments they gave us. “Oh my goodness! Oh we had no idea you could get such good schools here! Oh wow! It’s just so beautiful. We want to thank you so much for allowing us into your school. Now we want you to find all the love and joy you can find in the world...” I’m paraphrasing folks, but you get the picture.

One particular graduate of Harvard came to us to save our souls in a different way: by telling us about the importance of abstinence. And she began, very humbly, with the following statement (again, I paraphrase): “I know that as Americans, we need to set the example for women around the world, because the world looks to us…”

Not patronizing at all. Or annoying. But just an FYI, we didn’t follow the Americans over in that part of Africa.

We followed the British. Humph.

After one of these soul-saving, 45 minute sessions, I was confused about something and wanted to clarify with an acquaintance. “They said that you have to be Chrisitian to go to heaven. Is that true?” I asked. If I remember correctly, she said, “Yes.” But she would have to confirm it.

I have to tell you, that this confused me for a very, very long time. Especially because of its total and complete finality. If I were to dig deep, and truthfully search into myself, I have to say that I felt as though I was not enough. I had to change, and become something else and then I would be accepted. Not just by the society in which I found myself so painfully placed, a veritable fish out of water that tried to evolve into an amphibian in the course of a single human lifetime, but also by God himself. I was born into a certain belief system, in a certain way. And it was not enough. Therefore, I must change.

I wonder if anyone else feels that way, who has had their belief-systems shattered and their minds imposed upon by a vastly different ideology? I wonder, do you question yourself and your existence and wonder if you got it wrong and must therefore change? I have. So many, many times.

In my continued efforts to understand the world, an initiative recently taken up on account of certain unexpected circumstances that brought forth to me the painful question of the purpose of my life, I have decided to share my thoughts, my ideas and my questions with world. There are certain things that I no longer wish to be quiet about. Because silence, though necessary at times, and often the better part of valor, is not always the answer. I wanted to talk about my experiences with everyone just because I can. Not to judge or be judged, but rather to fulfill a basic human desire to share and connect. People who know me will realize what a big step this is for me. I tend to go off the radar and become extremely private at times. I’ve thought a hundred times before posting each and every post on the blog, which is why I hardly ever post anything (they usually don’t make the cut). I have to tell you, I thought a lot before posting this one.

And now for the conversation with St. Peter. I stumbled across the following verse yesterday:

“Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already…”

- John 3:18

My overactive imagination imagined, in the course of a few minutes, the following conversation with St. Peter, (who is said to stand guardian to the gates of heaven), which I shall now recount.

St. Peter (upon reading my application to heaven): Child, a necessary prerequisite for your application to heaven, where the Fresh Springs of Eternal Youth await you, is that you must be a Christian. Therefore you are condemned. Now kindly move to the next lane, where you will be rerouted to the Hot Springs of Hell…[reading my mind] no, no, it's not a spa! They do not have any medicinal qualities, though they do contain certain quantities of sulphur, which have been known to help with rheumatoid arthritis. But we’re working on that.

Me: But St. Peter sir, I seek my grandfather, Advocate and Agriculturist, gone only a month and much missed by me and mine.

St. Peter (with sadness in his eyes): He was not a Christian child, and is therefore condemned.

Me: But St. Peter sir, how is that possible? He was a good man. People traveled far to seek his advice. He was a good man, who lived an honest life and saw so many, many things in his 90 years on Earth.

St. Peter: Then what stopped him being Christian child? Educated you say he was? Why didn’t he read Christian literature and learn of Christian principles? More than 400 years have we been in your country. Isn’t that long enough?

Me: Please sir, I seek my grandfather.

St. Peter: Enough child! No more about that now. But since you are still so young and confused, I will make an exception. Here is a form for your conversion. Fill it up.

Me (without hesitation): No thank you sir. Show me to my grandfather.

St. Peter: Child, leave your foolishness.

Me: No thank you sir. I seek my grandfather. Point me to him, and gladly shall I go.

And I meant it. Now I’ve never questioned my Christian friends about this (except maybe some of my closest, so please know that I do not mean to offend), because Mum has drilled it into my head that God is good no matter what. God is good Anu, and He will take care of you and us and everyone.

If there is a God, and a logical progression of thought leads me to believe there is, then it occurs to me that I don’t even know his name. It’s been suggested to me, albeit strongly, by many people and many sources, but never by Him. Strange to think, then, that this Entity created me, made me who I am, is the silent Force that may have shaped my life, and still, I don’t even know His name.

I suspect, it matters little to Him what name He is called. I suspect it so, because as the great Bard put it, ‘What’s in a name? It’s neither hand, nor arm nor foot nor any other part belonging to a man’.

Whatever be His name then, He must be an omnipotent, omniscient being who knows us all. I hope He can see into me, and realize that though I have my doubts about Him, I stumble across divinity every once in a while. And I am continually in awe of it. I saw it in that cute little St. Bernard puppy down the street. I will be good, thanks to the influence of my mother, and not puppy-nap the cute little thing.

Above all, I know now that you should always go to a good spa. Because when you go to a bad spa, you think about the signage you saw on the way to the spa, you will think about it after the spa, it will stay with during other spa sessions and then you will end up writing a blog post about it. I leave you now, with the following beautiful song, as sung by a little known artist, Mathai.