Not believing in god has made me a positive person

Every person has reasons why he/she believes in something. Every one has their own set of beliefs that makes them feel better. For me, not believing that there is a god has made me much more positive. Because it’s a relief to think there is no one in the sky who is saying, “Screw this person in particular!” There would be no hope for me when the most powerful entity has decided to do that.

Many people frown upon the fact about my beliefs or my lack of it. They accuse me of forgetting my culture and my roots. Well, that’s not true at all. I’m fully aware of where I come from. I know my roots and that is what keeps me grounded. And I still do follow some of the cultures. But there are good cultures and bad cultures in all societies. And I choose to follow the good cultures like; respecting the elders, listening to people who are older than you, loving your family, respecting your parents, respecting the teachers, loving the younger ones, being kind to others and several other basic values of a harmonious society. That is my culture.

I was raised as a Hindu. My family is religious. But I’m lucky my parents gave me the freedom to choose what I wanted to believe which is rare in the Nepali society. My parents always gave me reasons to be good and kind without relating it to God even though they have their own firm beliefs. It’s a satisfying thing to do something good for people without having the greed of being placed in heaven after you die. It’s a practical thing to do too; you can see the results right away. You don’t have to wait until you die. The genuine smile and happiness that you see after you’ve done something nice for a person is the reward itself.

However, there were times when I was not like this. There are several other positive concepts in Hinduism but as a kid one concept hit me the most. According to Hinduism, whatever you are going through in this life is the price you’re paying for the sins you’ve committed in your previous life. This particular theory doesn’t have any solution to your problem. It’s basically saying things will get shittier and you have no control over what’s going to happen. As a kid who was going through some serious issues (I will post about the issues later), I thought that the god would never listen to my prayers because obviously I was a sinner and a bad person in my previous life. Isn’t that a very disturbing thought for a child who was only 6?

I didn’t open up to my closest ones the slightest. I had made myself an outcast. I thought no one would understand me if I said that because from my eyes all these beliefs were working well for them. I felt like I was a bad person for questioning these beliefs. I wanted to blend in so I just pretended that I do have the same faith.

I still prayed to the god but it was just one-way conversations with no replies from above. After realizing that the god would not be any help for me, I decided to become my own savior. I started to make myself busy by learning new things about people from various cultures and how they deal with various problems in their lives. All cultures had their own views on god, I could not identify with any of the other religions in the world either.

I liked many things that Buddha has said though. His philosophies are practical. Buddha as a person identified himself as an atheist. He was not a god; he was a mere mortal just like us but unlike us he was a genius. His philosophies are more important than the place he was born at. But it remains true that he was in fact born in Nepal that’s the only thing that I have common with Buddha, which is cool. I’m sure he would be disappointed to know now that people have made him a god and there’s a separate religion and sub-religions after him. This is dividing much more people than bringing them together. He never wanted to be a god and never promised heaven or hell. And he sure would not have wanted people to fight over the fact where he was born.

When I decided that I was not going to believe in any kind of god, I started having positive outlook in life. It was a profound realization that anything I wanted in life, I could still work on it and make it happen. That thought motivated me. I started warming up to people and tried to share happiness and my feelings as much as possible. It was working well for me and still does work.

I don’t know if there is a god but I choose not to believe in it. I am just a seeker of truth. Even if there is one, he/she should not punish me for not praying for them or be jealous if people pray for other forms of gods. Who needs a jealous, vain and petty god? If the God is so divine, he should be free of these petty feelings. So, relax the real god will not punish you for your curiosity and doubts.

Therefore, do whatever you think that makes you feel better and believe in whatever you want to believe in. But remember that you don’t have to identify with anything just because you happened to be born in that particular society. We are all different individuals. If something doesn’t feel right to you, don’t do it just for the sake of it or because it has been going on for a long time. Try to share your feelings about the doubts and problems you are having with people you trust, you will be surprised how many people will understand you. Be honest, be kind to your fellow human beings, and don’t do anything bad to other people. And everything’s going to be okay!

P.S. I have attached a quote from a book, The mysterious stranger by Mark Twain which basically changed my life. He has worded it perfectly to portray the hypocrisy of the non-existent god.

“A God who could make good children as easily a bad, yet preferred to make bad ones; who could have made every one of them happy, yet never made a single happy one; who made them prize their bitter life, yet stingily cut it short; who gave his angels eternal happiness unearned, yet required his other children to earn it; who gave is angels painless lives, yet cursed his other children with biting miseries and maladies of mind and body; who mouths justice, and invented hell — mouths mercy, and invented hell — mouths Golden Rules and forgiveness multiplied by seventy times seven, and invented hell; who mouths morals to other people, and has none himself; who frowns upon crimes, yet commits them all; who created man without invitation, then tries to shuffle the responsibility for man’s acts upon man, instead of honorably placing it where it belongs, upon himself; and finally, with altogether divine obtuseness, invites his poor abused slave to worship him!”

— Mark Twain, The Mysterious Stranger

 

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I hate a lot of people. And it’s okay!

I hate a lot of people but I have reasons. I hate the fact that I’m going to write this article or whatever the hell this is and people will overlook the things I’m trying to say by judging the way I write, my word choices, my sentence structure and paragraph breaks. But I don’t care! I’m just going to speak my mind however the fuck I want to. Because I have to let this out. And I’m just going to use simple words so that people won’t have to google the meaning of a word or have to look for a dictionary to actually know what I mean. Life has to be simple and it is. Be considerate to people who might not actually have rich vocabulary but deserve to know what an article is trying to say. I’m writing this because many people need to know this.
I hate the fact that I felt like shit for many years and it’s because of the people who made me feel like that. Nepal! you’re a beautiful country but some people there and the government there are horrible. I hate the fact that people have to leave their own country and the people who they love for better opportunities abroad because you left them no choice. I hate the fact that they have to go be a slave in an arab country to build stadiums for entertainment. I hate the fact that you made me choose between my future and seeing my mom for the last time. I wanted to tell her how much she has inspired me in every way possible but I couldn’t do it. She didn’t know that. I hate the fact that I am questioning my atheism in hopes to see my mom again and tell her how important she was to me in after life where I might meet her. But I don’t believe that, I wish I did. And it’s okay! She is alive inside me forever.
I hate the fact that some people made me feel like I was some kind of devil and a nuisance for not believing that there’s an invisible person in the sky. Those are the same people who made me feel like an outcast in my own country where we speak the same language. You left me no choice than to flee to a foreign land alone. I hate those people who made me feel ugly my whole childhood just because I had slightly darker skin and wore glasses. You people are horrible!
I hate the fact and actually amazed by the fact that people can kill innocent children to make their invisible god happy. You people are crazy! You had no right to do that. They didn’t do anyone any harm. You killed million hopes and ideas with those children which could some day benefit this world. I don’t consider you people human beings. Same goes to the group of people who recently killed a guy who wanted to make others laugh.
Let’s talk about my motherland again. I hate those people in my culture who tell my dad that in order to be happy, his daughter needs to get married and be settled with a guy from the same culture by now and make him worry about his daughter. I am happy dad! There’s nothing to worry about. You know why? Along with the assholes and horrible people in this world, there are people who are wonderful and are making your daughter happy in this foreign land where I speak different language than I speak to you. I’m sorry! in fact there also are people here with whom I speak the same language and are actually awesome.
Talking about America, I hate the corporate culture here that allows their employees to be treated as a commodity rather than a human being just because they signed or did not sign a piece of paper. You people are horrible!
Yeah! I hate a lot of people and it’s okay. All that matters is happiness. And everyone deserves to be happy. Just don’t surround yourself with assholes who make you feel like shit. Do whatever that makes you happy but yeah don’t do drugs. It’s bad.

The Irish Wake

This week was hectic. Amongst the stuffs I did this week I also attended a funeral. This was the first funeral I attended in the U.S. and it was very different from the funerals that are shown on the TV or the movies. The funeral was not even called a funeral it was The Irish Wake.

My friend invited me to the funeral of her mother’s aunt. I was not sure if I should attend it because I have no idea how to act in a funeral or what to say to the relatives of the deceased and I had no idea who she was. But she insisted that I should accompany her to the “wake party” (yeah she said party). She said that I would “enjoy” the funeral and the traditions because it was not a typical funeral. I don’t know how cynical my friend thinks I am to “enjoy” a funeral. Despite of it not being a typical funeral, the dress code was black cocktail dress for ladies. I decided to go and it was quite an experience.

The wake was held in the deceased’s home. It was a small home with a tiny porch in a small town of North-East Texas. My friend and I reached there a little late because it was a long drive from Denton. I don’t know what they did before we reached there but when we arrived to my surprise, it looked like a party except there was a dead body in the casket. There were candles around the casket and people were dancing around it. Most of them were drunk. Some of them were even smoking pot. The dead body was in an open casket; it/she was dressed in her best clothes with some makeup on. But the ravages of her illness were obvious. She looked like a dead person.

Apparently, in the Irish wake you can also bad-mouth the deceased in a humorous manner. So the deceased’s son-in-law threw some of his frustrations (he had heavy southern accent). It was quite funny and it was totally okay to laugh at it. After the bad-mouthing ritual there was “keening and crying” process. The daughter of the deceased and some other people (I don’t know how they were related to the dead) wailed with a depth of sorrow for a long time. It was heartbreaking to see the daughter cry. I had confused emotions while I was there. I don’t know if all The Irish Wake rituals are the same or maybe it varies with families.

The whole process seemed bizarre to me especially because that is not how a Hindu funeral looks like in my country (I have only attended a Hindu funeral in Nepal). The mourners wear white. There is no laughing and singing. The mourning period continues until the 13th day after death. The chief mourner (usually the son of the dead) shaves his head and is expected to wear all-white throughout the year. I can’t say if the ritual of wearing white all year long is a good thing or bad but it always made me sad whenever I saw the mourners in public. And for my funeral? I don’t care what others will do with my body after I am dead. I will be dead anyway. But, it would be really cool if I could haunt. I already have some names on my haunting list.

Irish wake according to Urban Dictionary:
An Irish wake is basically a party after the death of a family member or friend. Usually used by family members to get drunk and tell stories, usually inappropriate, about the deceased.