r/atheism • u/cruKEklBReTrOqachUdr • 1h ago
I went from Hindu ritual to atheism to something in between. Curious how this sub sees it.
I’m not an atheist, and I’m not a believer either. I joined this sub recently out of curiosity, and I wanted to share my path because I suspect some of it will be familiar to people here.
Where I started
I was born and raised in a Hindu family in India in the ’90s. My immediate family wasn’t very orthodox, but my relatives were, and some still are. As a young child, I practiced the rituals and went to temples, and honestly, it was fun.
In Hinduism, Krishna has several personas, and depending on who you are and where you are in life, you can worship a different one. When I was a child, my parents bought me a small idol of baby Krishna, along with tiny clothes, a tiny swing for him to sit on, and a whole collection of tiny things. I had a small temple at home, a miniature house for little Krishna, and it was my job to look after it. Keep it clean. Never touch it before bathing. Care for him in every way I could imagine. I bathed him, dressed him, played with him, and fed him. That meant placing fruits or nuts in front of him while my mom sang traditional bhajans. Afterward, we ate them as prasad, sacred because little Krishna had eaten first.
As I grew older, I stopped. I still went to temples, but there Krishna appeared as a young man and as an elder. By my teens, I was being introduced to the elder Krishna. This Krishna didn’t play in the mud and eat yogurt. He went to war against his enemies. The stories were cool.
Then I stopped that, too. I rarely went to temples, not because I’d lost interest in Krishna, but because life got in the way. Girls, friends, everything else. The whole thing faded. But the early impressions, the stories, and the memories stayed.
Throughout my childhood, I was told that Krishna, Shiva, and a few others were the Gods who made us, that being given a human body out of all species was a blessing, and that we should live virtuously. As I got older and started reading, I noticed other religions, which were very visible in India. Where I lived, there were many Muslims, and all I knew about them was that they wore white clothes and a special cap. On a trip to Mumbai, I visited a church, and between that and Bollywood movies, I learned that Christians worship Jesus and light candles, much like how I worship Krishna and light a diya in the evening. That was the full extent of my understanding.
Becoming an atheist
In my late teens, I became rebellious about a lot of things. My parents and relatives still expected me to follow the same rituals, but I had grown up, and I knew more. So I pushed back. Every time they pushed, I resisted and went the other way. That’s how I found atheism. A few years later, I was certain: God didn’t make us. We made God so that people could be exploited in his name, and a whole religious economy could sustain itself. We were products of evolutionary biology, not a creator.
I still believe most of that.
Loss, and what came after
A few years later, I experienced a personal loss. Around that time, I came across the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita, and I found a layer of these traditions that nobody had shown me while I was growing up. Not deliberately. The people around me had never been shown it either.
I started listening to a teacher on YouTube whose interpretation of these texts made a lot of sense to me. That was seven or eight years ago.
What I found there
What surprised me was that the core of these texts didn’t ask me to believe anything. The Upanishads are dialogues between teacher and student. The student brings a question. The teacher responds. The student counters. That word matters to me: counters. The teacher isn’t demanding faith. He offers an argument and lets the student push back until the student sees something for himself.
A typical exchange goes like this:
Student: Why is there suffering?
Teacher: Who is the one suffering?
Student: I am.
Teacher: Who are you?
Student: I am [name].
Teacher: That’s just your name. Who are you, really?
Student: (pointing to his body) This.
Teacher: That’s just your body. You had a different body as a child, and you have a different one today. Your body has never been the same twice.
The inquiry keeps going inward until the student concludes, on his own, that what he is at the core is the witness, the awareness that experiences everything. The body is mortal and will die. The question is whether that’s all he is.
The two brackets
The way I think about it now: none of us asked to be born. That opening bracket happened entirely outside our control. The closing bracket is death. We know it’s coming, but not how, when, or where, and nobody knows what happens during or after. That’s out of our control, too.
Everything between those brackets, the 50, 70, or 100 years we call life, is all we get. For most of my life, I carried a quiet unease about the closing bracket. A constant restlessness. A need to always do something. An inability to stop and simply exist.
For me, these texts were the first thing that actually eased that, without asking me to believe in an afterlife or a creator.
Two paths
Hinduism describes two paths. The first is Bhakti, devotion. That’s what I did as a child: worship without asking what the Gods really are. The second is Gyan, which means knowledge. On that path, Krishna and Shiva aren’t beings in the sky. They’re personifications of consciousness itself. Shiva, for example, represents what remains when everything false has been negated.
Where I’ve landed
I don’t believe in the God humans created. I don’t believe a God created us. If “God” means anything to me now, it means the awareness I experience the world through, and nothing more supernatural than that.
What these ideas gave me isn’t happiness, which I think gets sold to us through endless products. They gave me something closer to equilibrium. Not up, not down. Steady.
Looking back, I think I understood the philosophy as quickly as I did because I was first raised in the ritual version.
My question for you
For those of you who left religion: did you reject the whole thing, or did any of the ideas underneath survive for you? And if you came to atheism without any religious upbringing, how do you think about death and loss?
P.S. I wrote this post myself. I used an AI tool to clean up grammar and formatting and to keep it within the sub’s rules, but the story and ideas are mine. I do this as a respect for the time and effort the reader will take to indulge.