My move away from religion has, not surprisingly, evoked a major reconvert crusade among the people I love. It stems from a genuine worry for my lost soul. It is touching, to say the least, but frustrating on another level. How do you explain the beauty of a rose to a man who chooses not to open his eyes? The only thing he can feel is the prick of the thorn, and no matter how much you try and explain its beauty, the only thing the man can think of is the prick.
There were a lot of Gods on the streets of Mumbai when the rains poured. People who did not care about the discomfort they had to undergo in order to bring drinking water to people who needed it. People who did not lock their front doors but instead opened it to strangers who wanted to rest, or relieve themselves. Talk to the “god people” and they will tell you that it was god acting through those people. They will tell you about how god doesn’t let his people down. But ask them about the hundreds that died and they have no reply. If god doesn’t let people down then why didn’t he answer the prayer of the hundreds who called to him?
So if god is fallible and man is fallible, then where is the difference?
The answer is staring us in the face, only if we open our eyes and chose to look.