I am not by nature very religious. Yes, I do believe in God and pray to him…thank him for all the good things he facilitates in my direction, perhaps even curse him for some of the bad things that he sends my way, but essentially I am not into any particular God. Maybe it’s a very silly connection but what to do…that’s what I am, or have become.

Perhaps it’s because I was brought up in a Hindu household that was mature enough to send me to a Catholic Convent and eventually to a Jesuit College. Maybe it was because no one objected to my having Muslim friends. In fact, when I look back at my life, I find that people who endeared themselves to me as ‘best friends’ are Hindus, Muslims and Christians in almost equal proportions. And that most of them, like me, were by birth, believers but not preachers.

One of the things that has always fascinated me is the parallels that exist in the legends of religion. The similarity of miracles, the coincidence of faith. I was amused when I learnt for instance that Abraham became Ibrahim, Solomon became Suleiman, David became Daud and so on… that circumcision had two religions. And they were at loggerheads with one another.

A couple of weeks back one of my young Hindu friends flew off to foreign lands to attend the wedding of his best buddy, A Muslim. And as part of the celebrations, wore a robe that got me wondering at the striking similarity between a cassock and a robe. Between say a Jesuit costume and an Arab garb. And I felt bad that the strife between Muslims and Christians seemed to be never ending. Are they fighting because they are similar, I wondered.

But I find that I am not knowledgeable enough to have even a half debate on this issue. I prefer to live with the ignorant bliss that allows me to take refuge in the English language where Rama is a God as much as Allah is, and when people say ‘Thank God’ it need not necessarily be Jesus they are thanking.