May 6, 2017 / HinduEyes / 0 Comments
Our inquiry into the nature of the contemporary Hindu identity continues with one commonly asked question: “So, did the stories of the Itihāsa texts, the Rāmāyaṇa and the Mahābhārata, really happen? Are they historical? Were Rama and Krishna real? I need to know!” Answers to this question have contributed to the formulation of our transactional identity at the global level, and, as we discussed in the last post, this question arises as a response to criticism from cultures that value historicity, despite the unimportance of its answer in our philosophies.
For decades, many groups (both scientific and cultural, Hindu and non-Hindu) have attempted to prove or disprove the historicity of these texts. But Hindus were never concerned about the historicity of the Rāmāyaṇa or the Mahābhārata! For example, not once does Śaṅkarācārya in his commentary on the Bhagavad Gītā attempt to show that Kṛṣṇa was historical. He simply had faith in the reality of Kṛṣṇa, in the sense that what Kṛṣṇa taught through the Bhagavad Gītā was addressing real problems we face in life, and not some fictional reality. Hindus believed these stories and characters were real, in that we developed a sense of faith and devotion in the characters of Rāma or Kṛṣṇa, and could learn from them, but we did not need to believe they were historical. How could there be so many versions of the Rāmāyaṇa if Rāma was historical? Which version do we believe? If we say the first one (by Vālmīkī), then how do we explain the deviation from the original in the later versions, such as the Rāmacaritamānasa by the poet-saint Tulsīdās, which many people consider to be equally (or even more) authoritative? Why were our ancestors not worried about the “original” story? And most importantly, how come we are so interested in proving the historicity of these texts today?
There is a well-known story of Tulsīdās that indicates this point. When Tulsīdās was asked, “How can you know Rāma’s life so clearly?” his answer was simply, “Because I was there!” This answer indicates to us that he was not interested in Rāma’s historicity, but certainly believed in the reality of Rāma, and that these two things did not depend on each other for him (and other Hindus of older times).
“But if you say that Rāma and Kṛṣṇa were not historical, then why do we call their stories itihāsa, which we translate as history? What does the word itihāsa mean? If we derive it as iti ha āsa, or ‘indeed this is as it was’, then how can we say it did not happen?”
If history, as the word is understood today, was so important to us, then why was no other history book written? Why are there only two itihāsa books? Is that all that happened in history? We must ask ourselves: What was the purpose of writing these texts? Was it to tell us about some events that took place thousands of years ago? Or was it for some other, deeper purpose? We know that the Ṛṣis never wrote anything without some goal in mind, without some purpose beyond just information, as we established in a previous post. So what was that purpose?
In the case of itihāsa, it was to explore the entire history of mankind as such, as opposed to the history of one man or group. This means that the themes explored in these texts encompass, according to the Ṛṣis, the entire range of themes, experiences, and choices that mankind can possibly go through. The Mahābhārata speaks for itself:
यदिहास्ति तदन्यत्र। यन्नेहास्ति न तत् क्वचित्॥ — (म० भा० १।६२।५३)
yadihāsti tadanyatra; yannehāsti na tat kvacit (Mahābhārata 1.62.53)
“That which is here (in this story) can be found elsewhere (in the world); (but) that which is not here cannot be found anywhere (else).”
By a study of these texts, humankind sees its own biography in an allegorical way. These texts became classics not because they are historical, but because they can be directly relevant to every person in every age.
Furthermore, even the traditional definitions of itihāsa go far beyond “history” in the way we understand the word “history” today. We have precursors to western definitions of “history” also, in Patañjali’s Mahābhāṣya and in the Amarakośa, but beyond those, let us see how itihāsa texts define themselves with an example from the Mahābhārata:
आर्यादिबहुव्याख्यानं देवार्षिचरिताश्रयम् ।
इतिहासमिति प्रोक्तं भविष्याद्भुतधर्मयुक् ॥
āryādibahuvyākhyānaṁ devarṣicaritāśrayam ।
itihāsamiti proktaṁ bhaviṣyādbhutadharmayuk ॥
It means, “The extensive commentary on enlightened (and other) behavior, explained through the voices and actions of Gods, Ṛṣis, and the like, is known as itihāsa, and is the blueprint for exceptional dharma in the future.” This clearly shows that according to the Mahābhārata’s own understanding of its role as an itihāsa, it does not view itself as a “history” in the western sense. It intentionally uses heroic, grand, and godly characters to communicate its story, ideas, and philosophy in order for its story to be widely retold. And from its popularity today, we can conclude that this strategy worked.
Another well-known example to drive the point home:
धर्मार्थकाममोक्षाणाम् उपदेशसमन्वितम ।
पूर्ववृत्तं कथायुक्तम् इतिहासं प्रचक्षते ॥
Dharmārthakāmamokṣāṇām upadeśasamanvitam ।
pūrvavṛttaṁ kathāyuktam itihāsaṁ pracakṣate ॥ (from the Rājataraṅgiṇī by Kalhaṇa)
This says, “itihāsa is a well-known method of teaching the concepts of dharma, artha, kāma, and mokṣa in story format, presented in the past tense.” In this straightforward verse, we find the underpinnings of itihāsa and its original intentions and format plainly set forth. There is hardly any explanation needed here, but for clarity’s sake: itihāsa is not about “history” as we have been conditioned to believe it is. It is about exploring the vast ambit of possible human experience in all places at all times.
“But we are finding so much archaeological evidence that proves that Rāma and Kṛṣṇa were historical people!”
Claims about ‘proof’ for the existence of Rāma and Kṛṣṇa, and ‘proof’ of the historicity of the Mahābhārata and Rāmāyaṇa have been made by a number of archaeologists, notably during the phase of ‘epic archaeology’ in the 1960s and 1970s in India. Despite these claims, the field of archaeology is not concerned with ‘proving’ or ‘disproving’ the existence of individuals in the past. Archaeological methods of inquiry focus on the longue durée, long-term perspectives such as the development of societies, and change over time, such as settlement patterns, the organization and dynamics of power in societies and between societies, and their subsistence and economic systems. Searching for an individual in the archaeological record is most often a fruitless activity, especially because it deals with differential scales of time — most often archaeologists learn about past activities in timespans of hundred of years, not within individual lifetimes. It is also important to note that within Indian archaeology, the portrayal of archaeology as a ‘hard science’ that will yield ‘facts in the ground’ is deeply problematic, as archaeological data is eventually interpreted subjectively, and can be manipulated to suit different political or nationalist needs. Even then, despite the fact that we can infer lots of things from archaeological data, it cannot tell us about a particular person, especially one around whom scant data is available. We should logically conclude, therefore, that we have not found so much archaeological evidence proving Rāma and Kṛṣṇa’s historical reality.
“Then what about all the evidence that says that the Rāmasetu (Bridge of Rāma) is actually there? NASA has proved it with imagery! What about all the evidence from the names of cities that Rāma visited? All those places are still there today, aren’t they?”
Yes, the NASA pictures show us that there is a stretch of raised land that connects India with Sri Lanka, under the ocean. They also show us that this is a geological formation. But this has nothing to do with whether Rāma was historical or not. Keep in mind that all classical epic literature, whether it be from ancient Greece, Rome, or India, contains a great amount of geographical and political data such as the names of rivers, oceans, continents, cities, and the like, in order for its story to be more alive for its readers. Just because the Odyssey gives us details of all of Odysseus’ travels around southern Europe, visiting Troy, Ismaros, and other landmarks and cities that we can identify today, does not mean that Odysseus is historical. This is the nature of all classical epic literature. To make this point even clearer: we have real landmarks from the Harry Potter series in London and around the UK. Does that mean that Harry Potter is a historical figure? Maybe 1000 years from now some archaeologist will find wands that belonged to Harry Potter fans in the 21st century, or will identify cities that Harry Potter visited. Can he or she conclude that Harry Potter was historical? Definitely not. Why should we apply this kind of logic to the characters from our itihāsa literature? This desire is a result, remember, of our desire to respond to western criticism that places value in historicity. But why should we become slaves to the values of the west? We need not. Yes, from the perspective of our original interlocutors, it is important for Jesus to be historical, because the Christian faith depends upon his historicity for its validity; if he was not historical, then the Christian faith lacks a plausible foundation. But it is not important for Kṛṣṇa or Rāma to be historical because our faith does not depend on their historicity, for all the reasons given above.
…
And yet, we believe that Rāma and Kṛṣṇa are real. For us, the reality of our deities does not depend upon their historicity, it depends upon their philosophical value; it depends on our ability to learn from their stories, their teachings. We must learn to separate reality from historicity. Whether Kṛṣṇa was born 5,000 years ago, yesterday, or not at all does not change the value of his teachings in the Bhagavad Gītā. Some of the deepest philosophical considerations have taken place in that text, which we completely acknowledge was authored by the sage Veda Vyāsa. Our interest was simply never in proving whether Kṛṣṇa was actually there; we were too busy learning from him through his stories in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa and his teachings in the Bhagavad Gītā.
But let us take a moment to understand one of the biggest mouthpieces of Rāma and Kṛṣṇa’s historicity: the Sangh Parivar. Why would they spend so much energy trying to prove that these characters were real? The Sangh Parivar represents a prolonged voicing of an initial, superficial reaction to the criticism of early western Indology, the details of which we covered sufficiently in our last post. We find that the very questions raised by western Indologists have become the framework for the response of the Sangh Parivar (and other groups with similar motivations). But what goes subtly unnoticed by the people voicing this reactionary language is that just by answering the questions raised, we have succumbed to the categories inherent in the questions.
For example, suppose someone was to ask, “What is your Bible?” The tempting reaction may be to say, “The Bhagavad Gītā.” But simply by answering the question, we have succumbed to the inherent assumptions within it: that there must be a bible, there must be one bible, and that it must be the same for all of us. This means, our beliefs and practices must somehow be congruent or understandable to Christianity, the interrogator. Or when asked, “Who is your Jesus?” to answer that it is Kṛṣṇa, etc., is succumbing to the categories inherent in the question. Instead, we must be confident to say that we have a thousand bibles and a thousand Jesuses, and that our particular beliefs and practices cannot fit into the little box that these questions subtly attempt to place us in. We may say something like, “But the Bible is yours! Why should I have one? I have countless scriptural authorities to rely on. Why do you only have one?”
So what does the Sangh Parivar represent? It represents the initial desire, the initial urge to answer these questions, to defeat them without thinking of the implications of doing so; or the urge to answer these questions from a defensive position in a reactionary way, rather than a position of strength resulting from a deeper understanding of our tradition. Who can blame them, though? Wouldn’t we all like to react to that questioner who questions our identity? But the difference between fools and the wise is this – where the fool reacts, the wise person thinks, then acts. The wise never react.
Maybe not all members of the Sangh Parivar or similar organizations think this way; nevertheless, they are exposed to and conditioned by these reactionary explanations of our tradition, and perhaps do not understand the importance of breaking free from them, for our own psychological freedom from categories that are not natively our own. They become the vehicle for the propagation of a mindset that believes it is Hindu but is host to the very ideals implanted in our psyche by the west. As Steve Biko said, “The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”
If you are reading this and subscribe to the old way of thinking, change now. It is not too late. Free yourself from the bondage associated with the Hindu identity created by reacting to questions and critique by western Orientalists. Be original, be knowledgeable, be brave.
March 9, 2016 / HinduEyes / 1 Comment
Scholars have been trying to answer this question for a long time. We do not purport to provide a complete answer here by any means, though we do our best to maintain academic integrity. Since this blog is about providing a Hindu perspective on things, we will attempt to provide some Hindu perspective on what Hinduism is.
Many claims about Hinduism have surfaced over the last few centuries. One claim is that Hinduism, in any sense of the word, doesn’t actually exist. Another claim is that it is a “way of life” rather than a religion. Yet another claim is that it is simply a geographical marker. But one can argue that to talk about it in such absolutes does not make sense. Let us be practical. Look around you. Observe people that call themselves “Hindu”. Hinduism includes both a religion and a way of life. After all, when we look at most Hindus today, do we not see them practicing a religion? What can it be called, if not some form of Hinduism? And are they not living according to a particular way of life that we can identify as “Hindu”? Hinduism, upon closer inspection, seems to be much more than both. It is also more than a geographical marker, though the term may have at some point been used as one. And it certainly exists.
Given this introduction, let us see if we can provide a little more clarity about why Hinduism can be much more than our often simplistic understandings of it and why it eludes simple classification (according to western normative classification schemes that have heretofore been used to classify it).
Traditionally, although Hinduism has no single founder, text, or God, its various cultural patterns, philosophical traditions, and religious expressions broadly draw upon four “layers” of textual sources. These layers are 1) the Śruti (literally, “heard”) literature, also known as revealed scriptural literature, which is made up of the Vedas, the most authoritative Hindu texts, which include the Upaniṣads; 2) the Smṛti (literally, “remembered”) literature, which are interpretative texts derived from the Śruti, usually expounding a system of laws or rules either prescriptive or descriptive in nature, for the time and place that the text was written in; 3) the Purāṇa (literally, “ancient”) literature, which are the foundational mythological texts of later Hindu deity-centric traditions; and 4) the Itihāsa (translated as “historical”) literature, which is comprised of the two famous epics, the Rāmāyaṇa and the Mahābhārata.
All four layers of texts are presented in past tense, and thus a Hindu may view these texts as narrating real — often equated with and confused for historical — events. We will comment on the “historicity” versus the “reality” of Hindu texts later.
Theoretically, of the four layers, the Śruti texts (the Vedas) are the most authoritative texts in Hindu discourse. Practically, however, a Hindu is unlikely to have ever seen a copy of the Vedas, let alone have read them. There are four in number, although traditionally the view is that there is only one. The word veda in Sanskrit means “that which is known” or “knowledge”, so although the books may be codified as four, there is only one collective knowledge that pervades all of them. These texts are said to declare the most fundamental truths of the universe, revealed to the ancient sages, called Ṛṣis, in their seat of deep meditation. The Vedas are vast and are composed of several parts. They contain various hymns to ancient deities, mostly deities that govern some natural principle; they contain powerful sacred mantras, whose vibrations are said to contain a particular power; they include stories of ancient sages and kings; and finally, they contain the Upaniṣads, which are texts that are mostly written in a dialectical style, indicating through deep, suggestive language the nature of the Supreme Self, or the Absolute Truth, or the Ultimate Reality, which is called Brahman. The interpretation of the Vedas is performed through the help of six Vedāṅgas, or “limbs of the Veda”. A separate post to explain these eventually.
On the next level of authority are the Smṛti texts. Smṛtis are texts that take the universal eternal declarations of the Vedas and interpret them for a particular time and place, usually in the format of a law or rule book. There are hundreds of Smṛtis, and in each age, a new Smṛti is said to replace the old ones. Although these days the Manusmṛti (from approximately 2000 years ago) is commonly referred to as the “Hindu law text”, it is unlikely that a Hindu would ever have opened this text, and it is even more unlikely that he or she would know its contents. This may be because the contents of the Manusmṛti are not applicable to the form of society we live in today, even though no new Smṛti has been written since then, which is most likely due to the decline of Sanskrit and Vedic studies. That is not to say, however, that the influence of the Manusmṛti is not still subtly present today in the Hindu mind (in the form of what is now called Manuvād). There are elements of this text, which we will talk about eventually, that need to be overcome and adapted for the new era. The beauty of the layered division of textual sources in Hinduism, though, is that it inherently includes the potential to be updated in every age. The great misfortune of the current age is that many Sanskrit scholars are unwilling to write new texts, due to an entrenched belief in the authority of old texts. It is time for an update, but we seem to be too busy worshipping our ancient heritage to usher it into the 21st Century. Not to mention that today, due to the dominance of the scientific and materialist paradigms, young people are encouraged to study STEM subjects and/or lucrative subjects, leading to a dearth of students who study the humanities in general, let alone Sanskrit and related subjects in particular.
Further down on the hierarchy of authority are the Purāṇas. These are more likely to have been seen or read by a Hindu, though still relatively unknown. The Purāṇas are core mythological texts of Hinduism. There are 18 in number (with several secondary Purāṇa texts called Upa-purāṇas, but we are not counting those here), and the most commonly known Purāṇa is the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, which recounts the story (and the glory) of Lord Krishna. The Purāṇas are quite interesting. Each Purāṇa is devoted to a particular deity, such as Shiva, Vishnu, Durga, etc. Whichever deity the Purāṇa is devoted to, that deity is presented as supreme in that Purāṇa, and all other deities (who make appearances in each Purāṇa) are shown to be subordinate to the main deity. Depending on one’s interest, one may read, hear of, or just be within the “tradition” of a particular Purāṇa, and consider the corresponding deity to be supreme.
Next in the line of authority are the Itihāsa texts, which are, for Hindus, the most commonly seen or known texts. The Rāmāyaṇa and the Mahābhārata are so popular that their stories are known to most of us, even if we may not know where specific stories are located exactly in these texts. While the Sanskrit version of the Rāmāyaṇa, by the sage-poet Vālmīki, may be considered authoritative, other versions of this text, such as the Śrī Rāmacaritamānasa, by Goswami Tulsidas in the language Avadhi, or the Rāmāvatāram, by the Tamil poet Kamban, are popular in their respective regions. The Mahābhārata is said to have been authored by Sage Vyāsa, also known as Veda Vyāsa (because he was the compiler of the Vedas as we know them today, and also the author of the Purāṇas). These texts are considered “historical”, but not historical in the sense of actual events that happened in the past, even though they are presented that way. They are “historical” in the sense that they encompass the entire history of mankind as such. These authors were interested in exploring concepts of righteous living, in the form of Dharma, a concept we shall discuss in another post, and understanding the entire gamut of human experience through these texts. In a future post, we will comment on the problem of “historicity” of the Itihāsa texts, which is the problem of needing to prove the factual nature of these stories in a particular time at a particular place. In short, it is not something that Hindus have traditionally ever cared about, or should care about, since aiming to prove the historicity of a text is a learned behavior from the west. Our texts are about something much deeper than historical fact. We may believe they are real, but why must we believe they are factual? These two are different, and we must understand those differences. More on this distinction later.
All four layers of textual sources are transmitted through an oral tradition, for the most part, whether it is by a parent or grandparent telling stories or teaching devotional hymns or spiritual mantras, or by a spiritual guru lecturing on a particular topic or text. This contributes to the syncretistic views that we often hold — it is very uncommon for a Hindu to have learned the traditional śāstras, specific Sanskrit philosophical, religious, and scientific treatises in depth, and to know the difference between them.
In general, a Hindu’s worldview can, loosely speaking, be located within a group of six philosophies, stemming from different “visions” of the world (called the ṣaḍ-darśanas, or six visions/philosophies, in Sanskrit). These visions (or darśanas) are called: Nyāya, Vaiśeṣika, Yoga, Sāṅkhya, Mīmāṁsā, and Vedānta. Suffice to say in this blog post that they are all substantial, complete philosophies in themselves. As a result, they are six different philosophies of life altogether. And even though proponents of these philosophies debated with each other for centuries about which one was supreme, they nonetheless comprise a single amalgamated body of knowledge in the context of Hinduism as a whole. A Hindu is likely to subconsciously see these six systems and their corresponding subsystems as harmonious rather than conflicting visions of life (or consciously, if indeed the Hindu knows they exist at all). Furthermore, the Hindu mind is prone to see them as complementary within a unified total vision. Though these schools of thought are various, they still have some fundamental underlying commonalities:
- Traditionally, Hindu philosophy in general is chiefly concerned with the spiritual realm.
- Therefore, the Hindu religion (which also aims at spiritual salvation and ultimate bliss) and Hindu philosophy are closely intertwined. It is not necessary (and is in fact unwise) to separate the two, for they form two limbs of the same body that is Hinduism. To separate them is to create a crippled version of Hinduism. Religious problems have always contributed to the expansion and deepening of Hindu philosophies.
- Now, more than ever, it is time for these philosophies to be read, interpreted, and modified in new ways to include elements that they never really included before, such as social justice and class equality. This blog will deal with all these issues one topic at a time, but for now, it is important that we gain a picture of what Hinduism does, before we start commenting on what Hinduism does not do.
- Hindu philosophy is committed to being relevant to life.
- In Hinduism, every philosophy must have a practical element. Our forebears believed that a philosophy without a method for achieving its goal was useless. Since Hinduism has traditionally seen life as a spiritual adventure, its philosophy concerns itself with the spiritual fulfillment of humankind through practical and applicable methods in the here-and-now. It is not just a series of arguments for their own sake, but for the sake of the ultimate happiness of each individual. Philosophy is to be lived, not just read; it is an adventure of personal transformation. Hinduism, traditionally, is for those who wish to transform themselves.
- Today, of course, there is a dire need for Hinduism to become about social transformation as well, to address structural concerns in the society, and comment on the hidden elements of society that determine the ideologies from within which people live their day-to-day lives. That is to say, there is a need for Hinduism to directly address contemporary social concerns, like the pitfalls of our present economic system, the benefits of revolutionary thinking, and the breaking down of oppressive structures in society, instead of simply advocating for spiritual enlightenment, regardless of one’s socio-economic condition. Again, this blog will come to address all these issues over time, and as it progresses, we will dive into more nuanced ways of approaching life and living as a Hindu through these new lenses. For now, it is important to know what is involved in Hindu thought before we attempt to evolve it.
- Hindu philosophy deals with self-perfection through various means.
- Whether that be physical perfection, mental perfection, perfection of reasoning, attainment of heaven, attainment of freedom from suffering, etc, Hindu philosophy generally points towards perfecting oneself. The traditional belief is that perfection of each individual leads to the perfection of society. This thinking, too, needs to evolve, but we will begin our critique of Hindu thought only once we fully understand its full scope.
- Hindu philosophy tends towards being idealistic.
- In a time when people were not struggling to find food, in the lush valleys of the Himalayas, ancient Hindu sages were able to focus on the higher ideals of life. They did not fear persecution or starvation. They were able to engage their minds in deep meditation, which led to the development of the different darśanas.
- Thus, Hinduism loudly proclaims, “sarve bhavantu sukhinaḥ“, “let all be happy”. Not just Hindus. “Lokāḥ samastāḥ sukhino bhavantu“, “let the entire universe collectively be happy”. Not just Hindus. “Vasudhaiva kuṭumbakam“, “the whole world is, truly, a family”. Not just Hindus. Hindus are and should be proud of these sayings, for they indicate the inherent Hindu mindset of wishing the maximum happiness for all without reservation, and never condemning another to hell or any other negative circumstance. It is time, of course, for Hinduism to also acknowledge that there is a world of people that does fear persecution and starvation, among other things, which means that there are new considerations that must enter into the general Hindu consciousness. Again, we will comment on these new ideas, presenting Hinduism in its new incarnation as a liberating force (not limited to the spiritual sense), as this blog matures.
- There is an overall tradition which incorporates elements of all the Hindu philosophies.
- This point is self-explanatory, but it is exemplified in famous Hindu sayings such as, “ekam sat viprāḥ bahudhā vadanti“, “wise people speak of the one Truth in many ways”. This indicates a tendency towards acceptance and mutual respect among the Hindu traditions, and over time, towards acceptance of and respect for non-Hindu traditions as well.
- As a result of accepting the validity of traditions that are not one’s own, the different philosophies within Hinduism have been studied and practiced together under one roof for a long time, leading to the integration of different aspects of these philosophies into one slightly nebulous whole. Moreover, occasionally some aspect of a non-Hindu tradition also gets incorporated into the global Hindu mind.
Keeping all this in mind, we can say that there is a definite tradition (albeit with blurry boundaries) called “Hinduism”.
These commonalities are far from comprehensive, but they give an indication of the way Hinduism has been set up through the ages. Let’s save commenting on labels that have been applied to Hinduism for a future post.
Some scholars include Buddhism, Sikhism, and Jainism within the remit of “Hindu” philosophies, and to a Hindu, their practices and beliefs are definitely within the scope of Hindu thought. Buddhism, Sikhism, and Jainism themselves claim they are not Hindu, of course, so we will let them be for now, and reference them where it makes sense to do so. Collectively, these four traditions, namely Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Sikhism are called the “Dhārmic” traditions, meaning those traditions that are centered around the concept of dharma, a concept that shall be explored in much depth in future posts on the blog.
What of the religious component, then? How can we call Hinduism a “religion”?
It is plain to see that Hinduism has a religious component. We see so many Hindu deities everywhere, such as Ganesha, Shiva, Krishna, Rama, and Durga. What of this Hinduism? What is it, and why does it exist?
Prepare yourself for a little academic indulgence.
The most popular of the Hindu darśanas today is Vedānta. According to Vedāntic philosophy, an individual is by his or her very nature eternal, consciousness, and infinite. But due to false identification with the body, one believes oneself to be limited and finite. In order to relieve oneself of this false identification, one must first cleanse one’s mind. In order to clean the mind, many techniques have been prescribed, including worshipping a personal deity. Since minds are of many types, many deities exist for the purpose of attracting and cleaning these different types of minds. Worship of the deity that your mind is naturally attracted to results in the purification of your mind over time. The purification of the mind is the first step towards liberation from the suffering caused by identification with the limited, finite body.
This is just one way of looking at why deities are there, and various other philosophies within Hinduism have their own reasons for the existence of the deities. It is important to note that there are many versions of deity-worship and many reasons for it as well. There is no single “right” reason for it, just as there is also not necessarily a “wrong” reason for it either. So far, we have presented the Vedāntic approach, which, due to its popularity, is usually the first version that a student of Hinduism will encounter.
Consider this — there are hundreds of folk traditions in India, for whom the worship of the local deity (or an overarching deity) is central, and critical to the religion. There need not be a deep philosophical basis to it apart from the immediate sense of security and happiness felt at worshipping the deity for it to be a Hindu practice. We cannot forget that these are equally valid expressions of Hinduism, and they are not any “less” in terms of their authenticity, or their reality. If anything, sometimes these traditions are more “real” in practice than the philosophical webs that we weave around the worship of deities while not in fact engaging in that worship at all.
Since the worship of deities is one of the main external activities prescribed in Hinduism, it is naturally one of the first things that an observer comes to notice about Hinduism.
Worship has a definite place in the practice of Hinduism. And to many Hindus, worship is Hinduism. Perhaps this is due to the decline of Hindu philosophical study in schools, or due to the fact that worship is ostensibly the most extroverted and colorful activity in Hinduism, or in response to the questioning by adherents to Abrahamic faiths regarding the practice of Hinduism. Or perhaps it is a combination of all three. It is difficult to say why exactly deity-worship has become the most commonly known (and sometimes the only known) aspect of Hinduism, but it is certainly the most observable part of Hinduism. It is not always, however, the end-all of the religion.
Worship in the form of seva, or service, is also commonly practiced. It was originally championed by Swami Vivekananda, a great Hindu monk from eastern India. Today, Hinduism is very influenced by his work. More about him in a future post.
So, the Hindu “religion” is made up of all practices that are geared towards self-perfection, whether that be in the form of physical worship, meditation, service, reading scripture, or any other practice. It can be said that the practice of the above six philosophies is the Hindu religion.
When practicing Hinduism, several key words come up often, and it is important to know what they mean, especially when living in an age that questions everything. Why should we not know what everything means? If you have ever been told, “Just do it!” when you have asked what something means, or why we do certain things, or if you have ever had to answer, “Well, that’s just how we do things” or “That’s just what I was told” to any question from another person, then this blog can hopefully help bring clarity to your idea of Hinduism. Some key words that come up in the life of a Hindu are dharma, karma, saṁsāra, mokṣa, and ahiṁsā, among others that shall be discussed in great detail along the course of this blog (we promise!).
In order not to make this topic (ie, “What is Hinduism?”) too confusing, we will stop here. It is enough to broadly say that Hinduism today is a highly decentralized navigation between the quadruple-layered hierarchy of textual sources, the six darśanas, or a synthetic combination thereof, the practice that is geared towards realizing the aims of these darśanas, and various cultural elements that are difficult to homogenize but can be located to specific regions or time periods or political trends.
Although this post is called “What is Hinduism? A Hindu perspective”, in actuality much of this blog will be geared towards exploring just that. Hinduism is so huge in scope that to answer that question would take as long as Hinduism has existed. But we will try in our own small way, one topic at a time, to provide some fresh perspective on Hinduism in its current iteration.