V V Ganeshananthan

Every Friday, I listened to fables intended to teach me something about how to act and what to respect. I saw no conflict between the fables, the images, and the idea of an all-encompassing divine presence. Attendance at that Friday afternoon ritual helped to form one of my basic philosophies of being: everything in this world is a version of something else, and everything in this world is part of the same thing. This philosophy is as practical as it is spiritual, and it follows me into both professional and personal life. Over the years, it has made me something of a diplomat, a mediator. I can feel sympathy for virtually any side of an argument, as long as it is constructed with an internal logic. Sometimes, this willingness to accept many sides of an issue is an advantage. In a world that favours yes/no answers, however, it can also be a detriment, making me appear indecisive. It is a philosophy deeply rooted in the idea that very few things can be answered with a yes or no, and that generally, things that ostensibly contradict each other can actually be simultaneously true. It is a philosophy that belongs to neither monotheism nor polytheism, that is unaware of those categories. It is a philosophy that made me stammer when my peers asked me what kind of religion Hinduism was or how many gods I worshiped. Nor did I see the use of an answer.

Polytheism and monotheism are the religious categories that everyone knows, the ones everyone thinks matter. But there are religions that are neither, and to me, Hinduism is one of them — not as easily explained, perhaps, as the binary-inclined Western world would like it to be. — Beliefnet.com