Hope springs eternal, faith keeps you going.
I was asked by an Italian colleague how as a researcher, I could believe in an abstract God. Was asked to prove the need for such religious customs, especially with the lustre of greed that surrounded it. The answers I had then, were not of any extensive mythological or scriptural evidence, but simply of the fact that it gave me comfort to believe, to converse, to lament, to crib and entrust, in a power vastly beyond my feeble understanding. My God, my confidante, an eternal unseen presence throughout my existence gave me the will to keep one foot after another. My allegiance lies firmly with the flautist. His stories are the stuff of fantasy, adoration, morals and life teachings, I could not put across or justify with my words. So much grandeur yet a simpleton, a champion of the people and yet a youngling to his mother,the Paramatma who helped win one of the greatest wars on human vices without raising nary a weapon. Another source of devotion comes forth from a saint, whose life was ...