Most people search for hope, for belonging, for purpose. Religion can offer all of that, but if it ever sidelines your freedom to choose, to think, to wonder—something precious is lost. So, what’s the answer? Not confrontation, but honest, unguarded questions. Questions that aren’t meant to provoke or undermine, but to genuinely understand and maybe even reshape how we see the world, each other, and ourselves.
See, preachers—like everyone else—filter their teachings through layers of personal experience. Some are gentle guides, others take a hard line, but most fall somewhere in the middle. That’s not surprising. We all lean on what we know: our stories, our histories, our mistakes. It’s just that, for religious teachers, this bias carries extra weight. Sometimes their perspective anchors a community, offering stability and belonging. Other times, accumulated bias can make a religion feel rigid or exclusionary—raising walls instead of building bridges.
There’s an intricate relationship between philosophy and religion—one that’s often faded from daily life, maybe because it’s just hard for most people to grasp or use in a practical sense. That’s where the main character enters: PREACHERS. They’re the interpreters, translating religion into rituals and everyday guidelines. On the surface, that all seems calm, maybe even comforting. But it isn’t always so simple.
But bias, on its own, isn’t always bad. It gives people a sense of identity and keeps tradition alive. Still, complications arise when personal bias edges out openness or drowns out plural voices. Suddenly, religion’s hopeful message gets tangled with narrow views. Yet, even then, radical views rarely bloom from bias alone. Social pressures, political strife, or feelings of displacement all add fuel—so let’s not pretend it’s all about the preachers.
Where does philosophy fit in? It doesn’t just ask us to question; it invites us to wrestle with paradoxes, to sit with uncertainties, to explore meaning where answers might never be clear. Philosophy doesn’t compete with faith—it walks alongside it, a companion or sometimes a gentle challenger.
Truth isn’t always a bright, singular light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes it’s a mosaic—multi-colored, shifting as we move, built from different lives and beliefs. Maybe the truth will always be just out of reach, but our search for it—our willingness to ask, listen, reflect—defines who we are.
The unfolding of the Indian election might have come as a surprise to many, for one is the BJP who steamrolled the campaign seasons with slogans of "400 par". While it remains 240 seats popular in a house of 520 members, a few stories should not go unnoticed. First, the BJP's popularity and the win for a third term is no ordinary feat. Only a few leaders of the past have managed such an elusive feat. This, indeed, is the trust that the brand Modi has built over the years. In politics, we often get acclimatized to the situations, in certain aspects too critical of it. When the young generation looked at Indira Gandhi's cabinet, they vowed never to again let such a solid mandate to a single party that its chief could declare an emergency, and no structures would be able to prevent that. This, however, ended up in fragmented colours in the Lok Sabha, the era of coalitions and surprise prime ministers. Needless to say, the horse-trading of MPs and the mindless corruption ...