One afternoon, during a pleasant and unassuming conversation with my daughter, she shared something that caught me off guard: she told me she is an atheist.
It came as a shock—perhaps more because of my own assumptions than her belief. Instead of reacting, I chose curiosity. I asked questions. I listened. And as she explained her thought process, it unexpectedly led me inward, prompting a deep reflection on my own journey toward spirituality—and how it has become an anchor in my life.
I grew up in a Hindu family, where devotion is often inherited. We pray to the same deities our families have worshipped for generations. Rituals are introduced early, practiced routinely, and rarely questioned. Over time, faith becomes familiar—sometimes deeply meaningful, sometimes simply habitual.
After marriage, my wife naturally followed the spiritual traditions she felt most connected to. I tried to embrace them, accompanying her to temples and practices that resonated with her. Yet over time, I came to an honest realization: while I respected her beliefs, my own inner energy did not fully align with what she followed.
One of the most profound aspects of Hinduism is its democracy. It offers countless forms and expressions of the same supreme energy. There is no singular path, no forced alignment. Affinity matters. Alignment matters. And that alignment often reveals itself only through exploration, patience, and lived experience.
Sometimes the connection comes naturally. At other times, it feels as though the deity finds you—rather than the other way around.
In 2004, I first read about Maa Tara. Even a brief mention of her stirred something deep within me. I felt an unexplainable thrill. And yet, it wasn’t until 2022 that I truly began praying to her. Similarly, my father often spoke about Bhairav Baba, but I only built a personal connection with him starting in 2022. Looking back, it feels as though both energies were patiently waiting—gently pulling me toward the path where my frequency truly aligned.
Today, I practice an elaborate, Tantra-based upasana of Batuk Bhairava and Maa Tara. I look forward to it every single day. It brings joy, grounding, and a quiet certainty. When devotion becomes something you anticipate rather than perform, you know you are aligned—with the energy, the frequency, and your path.
Returning to my daughter’s perspective, I realized something important.
Spirituality, at its core, is Spirit plus Ritual.
A ritual need not be traditional or religious in the conventional sense. It can be bhakti, karma, upasana, or simply living a righteous life. It can be service, discipline, reflection, or integrity. What matters is not the form, but the intention. If you consistently do what is right, you are spiritual.
We are often conditioned to believe spirituality must look a certain way—morning or evening puja, temples, mantras. I see these not as mandates, but as guidelines—structures meant to help cultivate a rhythm for the spirit. If your energy aligns with them, embrace them fully. If it doesn’t, choose another path with equal sincerity.
That freedom is the essence of Hindu philosophy. Even Lord Krishna, in the Bhagavad Gita, speaks of multiple yogas—different paths leading to the same truth.
So my reflection is simple:
Have a ritual for your spirit.
For your inner self.
Something that grounds you, guides you, and gives you clarity.
When your spirit has a ritual, it quietly becomes the compass for your life.