Religion is often hailed as the great unifier. And yet, walk into any religious procession, and you’ll see it doing the exact opposite—revealing a thousand different faces wearing the same mask of devotion.
The atheist stays home—not out of disrespect, but because he sees no point in a ritual he doesn’t believe in.
The true believer also stays home—he finds God in silence, not in slogans or sound systems.
The poor man shows up—drawn by the promise of a free meal. For him, faith is a plate of rice with some pickle, maybe curd if he’s lucky.
The middle-class man folds his hands—eyes closed, lips trembling. Not in gratitude, but in desperation. EMI, promotion, school fees, rent—God is his last credit option.
The rich man arrives in style—designer clothes, SUV with red beacon (if possible), bodyguards in tow. His prayer? Not for grace, but for cover—God, protect me from the scams I’ve already committed.
The celebrity walks in—well-dressed and well-rehearsed. The prayer is secondary; the photos are primary. God is a PR opportunity.
The politician climbs onto the stage—with folded hands and fake humility. His motive is transparent: convert the crowd into a vote bank, one sermon at a time.
So there it is—a single religious event, and yet so many outcomes. Faith, in theory, is pure. But its practice? Often muddied by motives.
A procession doesn’t just carry a deity.
It carries intentions.
And if you look closely, God isn’t the only one being worshipped—
Greed, guilt, hunger, fame, and power walk right alongside.