God ... and Great Great Grandfathers

Now I personally don’t believe in god. Like probably most other people of my age and generation, I like to believe in the power of self and refuse to acknowledge a thought that my destiny is controlled by something/ someone other than me.

My mom, on the other hand, is a staunch believer. Although generously sprinkled with moderations of rationality and modernism, her idea of God mostly is, traditional.

Therefore, like expected, she and I constantly have these debates on religion and God. Just yesterday, we started off on the topic of whether god really existed or are these stories merely folklore passed on through generations. I mean I honestly wouldn’t believe in any God (be it of any religion) unless I found some proof that they really existed. Finally there came a point when I told her that all religions are merely based on writing of obscure people in history and concluded that if I would’ve written a book on Tom and Jerry, and if it would’ve caught on, then maybe we’d all be worshipping idols of a mouse and a cat instead !

To this my mother just smiled.

It was one of those warm smiles that wise people give when they know what’s coming. She said “Let me tell you a story … “
A long time ago there was a king (like there is always in those stories). He was a very arrogant king (like most of them are) who didn’t believe anybody else was greater than him (hmm… what’s new!). He heard about this great saint in his land who was giving people great faith in God. Feeling a bit challenged, the king summoned the saint to his palace to explain to him why he thought the saint was wrong.
Later, he was taking a walk with the saint in his palace and came across a hall with portraits of his great lineage. The king, with a chest swollen with pride, proceeded to introduce the pictures on the wall elaborating on how many great battles each one of his ancestors had won. He came to the portrait of his great great grandfather and started rambling about his feats when suddenly the saint spit on the face in the picture.
The king was enraged. He demanded for an explanation when the saint calmly replied back in a question, “How do you know he is you Great Great Grandfather?”. The king explained because his father had told him so. So he asked how his father knew that he was his great grandfather. The king replied because, obviously, his father's father had told his father so. At this the saint concluded that the king had never seen that man in the portrait and it was his belief that he was what he was because of the generations of legends that had passed on.
Similarly, the saint replied, I believe in someone whose legends have been passed on through many generations. Just like you, he told the king, I have faith in that person and wouldn’t appreciate anyone disrespecting him or questioning his existence.

This is the part in the conversation with my mom where I’m supposed to think hard as to how should I reply to that.

Well I’m still thinking … but I’m not giving up ! :)