Which Faith Is Mine

I claim not such a faith, which could deaden my conscience,

and close my eyes to the lives maimed, mutilated or murdered.

That which was to bind us all,  only segregates and alienates one

person from another and the human being from its intrinsic humanity.

I know no one creed or faith well enough to christen it as my own.

I know no God who belongs exclusively  only to me, or my caste.

That which claims a country or a region as its own and wants

to weed out the of the laity of other faiths from its territory?

We all ate similar food, spoke the same language, and lived in the

same vale, played under Chinars, ‘n even had similar racial roots.

Every autumn we ambled down those  avenues, hand in hand

 as kids, which later became a battle ground and a graveyard.

Here perished a lot of ‘our’ folks, burnt, battered and brutally raped.

I don’t see God only in an idol, or in a befuddlement of names,

or its envoys only in the garb of priests, or perceive the faithful only

as those telling the rosary beads, singing hymns, naat and kirtan

I don’t know if God is an animal, man, woman or another gender.

A roaring vengeful fire, the breathing tree or the deep blue ocean?

The nurturing terra mater, the azure skies or the gutsy winds?  

In none, some or, in all of them, including human hearts and souls?

I’d rather be faithless, than have such a fractured faith,

that rests on the use of farce of force on the feeble forms

to make them fear the faceless infinite invincible energy,

its rage and fury, and not the warmth of its compassion.

If God was a friend and mother, would She not use the  glue  

of clemency, and toleration to keep her flock together?

Such as we ourselves are, such will our Gods seem to us.

It didn’t matter to which religion those targeted belonged to.

Is faith a museum of beliefs or a medley of rites and customs?

In the name of religion, region, caste and colour, a human form

is oft wounded and victimized,  who in turn, would continue

to hoist the edifice of hatred and search for its next victim?

Of what use is a faith if one cannot revere and value a

human or a non-human life form, like the abandoned old

toothless Ammaji and the regularly raped little Pheroza,

who beg outside, an abode of God, not far from home.

Oft it makes me wonder if God has turned deaf ‘n dumb

and a blind eye or have we stopped listening to our

inner voice  blocking out ‘our’ throbbing sores .

For, if its a large family, then there are no ‘others’