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India is a religious country.

We have gods for almost everything. We have stories of avatars taking birth whenever the world needs saving. We have kings becoming gods, gods becoming kings, and politicians slowly discovering that they also have a little bit of divine connection.

Maybe this is why Indian politics has become so interesting.

A politician does not always need to say, “Vote for me.”

Sometimes the message is much bigger: “I am not an ordinary person.”

In 2024, Prime Minister Narendra Modi described himself as “non-biological” and said he believed he had been sent by God for a purpose. The statement became a major political talking point.

And millions of people happily enter this conversation.

Because we are comfortable with the idea of avatars.

We already have faith in our mythology that God can come to Earth in human form. So when a politician presents himself as something more than an ordinary human being, many people don't stop to ask the most important question. 

Fine. But what has he actually done for me?

That is the dangerous part.

Religion asks us to have faith.

Democracy asks us to ask questions.

These are two very different things.

A religious devotee may say: “Don't question. Have faith.”

A citizen must say: “Show me the data.”

If a politician builds a temple, we can discuss the temple.

If he gives a religious speech, we can listen.

If he talks about civilisation, culture, God or tradition, people are free to believe him.

But when he becomes a government representative, another book becomes more important.

The Constitution of India.

Not any other religious scripture.

Religious books cannot decide who gets equal citizenship, who gets to vote, what rights a citizen has, or how the government must treat its people.

But they can be use wisely to get votes for politicians. 

That job belongs to the Constitution.

And this brings us back to our Election Commission.

The Indian Express has reported serious questions around the functioning of the electoral machinery: two Election Commissioners recorded objections at least 14 times in ten months over issues including voter deletion, Form 6 and centralisation of electoral-roll software.

In Goa, 97 voters were reportedly found eligible by Electoral Registration Officers, but the software apparently did not allow those decisions to be properly recorded.

Now imagine the Indian version of digital democracy:

Citizen: “Sir, I am eligible to vote.”

Officer: “Yes.”

Software: “No.”

Citizen: “But the officer said yes.”

Software: “I have already spoken.”

Welcome to Bhagwan 2.0 now powered by software.

And then there is the law governing the appointment of Election Commissioners.

The 2023 Act provides for a selection committee consisting of the Prime Minister, the Leader of Opposition and a Union Cabinet Minister nominated by the Prime Minister.

The same law's Section 16 says courts cannot entertain or continue civil or criminal proceedings against a present or former Election 

Commissioner for acts, things or words done in the course of official duty.

Just like an avatar, they used the constitution to make the person invincible

These are not religious questions.

They are constitutional questions.

And this is where citizens must become smarter than devotees.

Because politicians may wear religious clothes.

But when they sit in government, they are not above the Constitution.

They are not avatars.

They are public servants.

And public servants must be questioned.

This is the only reading the politician becomes the god.

The party becomes the temple.

The supporter becomes the Andh-Bhakts.

And criticism becomes blasphemy.

That is when democracy becomes dangerous.

Governments, political parties even Prime Minister will change.

But the Constitution must remain bigger than all of them.

So perhaps India does not need another political avatar.

Perhaps India needs more citizens who can read the Constitution.

It should be decided by one person, one vote, equal citizenship, fundamental rights, institutions and the rule of law.

Believe whatever god you want.

Follow whatever religion you want.

But when you enter the voting booth, take only one thing with you:

Your constitution has given right to choose.

Because in the Republic of India, the ultimate power should not belong to an avatar.

It should belong to the citizen.

And the only book that can legally decide the future of all Indian citizens is not a religious scripture.

It is the Constitution of India.

 

Spirituality - Turn Experiences into Beliefs

In my previous piece, I explored a curious phenomenon, some people reject the specific gods described in mythology, yet continue to believe in something they call “spirituality.”

They sound rational while rejecting the supernatural in mythology?m, but somehow accept the interpretation/ stories from their Guru’s

Why does this happen?

The brain constantly fills gaps, connects patterns, and creates explanations. This helps us understand the world, but can also make us see meaning where doesn’t exists.

When we encounter something unexplained, the brain tries to make sense of it using whatever information is already available.

Our beliefs are shaped long before we learn to question them, by family, culture, stories, films, religion, personal experiences, and people we trust.

By the time we encounter science and rational inquiry, our minds may already be filled with stories of gods, ghosts, heaven, hell, karma, rebirth, miracles, and life after death.

Those stories become part of our mental framework.

Later, when we encounter an unusual experience, the brain does not interpret it in complete isolation. It compares the new experience with information already stored in memory.

This is where confirmation bias can shape how we interpret that experience, making information that fits our existing beliefs feel more convincing.

I recently met someone who was deeply curious about the ultimate nature of reality.

He enjoys movies, asks philosophical questions, and has travelled to different places searching for God, miracles and answers to questions about existence. Yet he did not find explanations that satisfied him.

During this search, he encountered a spiritual teacher.

At this point, a spiritual teacher provides an interpretive framework that connects apparently unrelated experiences religious scriptures, personal experiences, near-death stories, miracles and philosophical questions into one coherent narrative.

The narrative feel convincing because it explains many things at once.

But a coherent story is not necessarily evidence that the story is true.

Think about the stories we consume throughout our lives.

A person may have watched films depicting hell, divine punishment, supernatural experiences or people returning from death. They may have heard relatives describe miraculous incidents. They may have encountered religious stories explaining what supposedly happens after death.

These memories can remain available for decades.

When something unusual happens later, the brain may retrieve these familiar narratives and use them to interpret the experience.

This does not mean the person is deliberately lying or imagining everything.

It means that perception and memory are constructive processes.

Human memory is not like a video recording stored perfectly in the brain. Memories are reconstructed and influenced by later information, expectations and interpretation.

Consider another story: a person was reportedly declared dead for several hours, later revived, and described experiences that appeared to match descriptions found in Indian scriptures.

Such a story may sound extraordinary, but medically and scientifically, “declared dead” does not necessarily mean irreversible death or complete cessation of brain function. The person may have experienced cardiac arrest, unconsciousness, or severely altered brain activity.

The experience itself can be genuine without its supernatural interpretation being established. Memory can also be reconstructed after the event and influenced by prior knowledge, expectations, cultural beliefs, and later conversations.

Therefore, describing such an experience as evidence of an afterlife requires more than the experience itself, it requires independent evidence that rules out known neurological, psychological, and memory-related explanations.

It simply prevent us from jumping from “something unusual happened” to “therefore this supernatural explanation must be true.”

Often a pattern recognised becomes a pattern creation.

The human brain is exceptionally good at detecting patterns.

That ability allows us to recognize faces, predict danger, understand language and learn from experience.

But the same machinery can sometimes detect meaningful patterns in randomness.

Like faces in clouds or we remember the prediction that came true and forget the dozens that did not.

Psychologists use concepts such as "apophenia" to describe the perception of meaningful connections or patterns where the evidence for such a connection may be weak or absent.

This becomes particularly powerful when combined with confirmation bias.

An unusual dream, coincidence, medical experience or story about a deceased person may then become evidence supporting that belief.

But an equally important question is, what evidence would make the person change their mind?

Take an example of mythology to personal mythology.

There is another fascinating psychological transition.

A person may reject the traditional gods of mythology because the stories seem outdated, contradictory or scientifically implausible.

Yet instead of abandoning supernatural explanations altogether, they replace the traditional mythology with a more personalised version of spirituality.

And this have been observed all the spiritual guru’s.

They reject the gods created by mythology. Then they create their own mythology, invent their own version of God.

When a spiritual guru becomes the interpreter.

Ancient scriptures are selectively reinterpreted.

Personal experiences become evidence.

And uncertainty is transformed into a story about an “ultimate reality.”

In a provocative sense, the mythology has not necessarily disappeared, it may simply have been redesigned.

Sometimes the new God looks remarkably similar to the beliefs, expectations and worldview of the person who discovered Him.

The most important question is not: “Which God is the real God?”

It is: “How does my brain decide that something is true?”

That question must force us to examine ourselves.

Do we actively search for evidence against our belief? 

Are we comfortable saying “I don't know” when the evidence is insufficient?

Science begins with that last sentence.

“I don't know” is not a failure of human intelligence.

It is an acknowledgement of the limits of our current knowledge.

And that is where genuine curiosity begins.

Just relying on guru and his interpretation through a video is not enough, one must read our own scriptures.

Because the brain's ability to create explanations is extraordinary.

But our ability to question those explanations is even more important.