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Raghavi (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Growing up in a Hindu family, there were a lot of rituals. It was part and parcel of our religion and culture, and was embedded in our day to day life. They covered birth to death and everything in between. Most of them had been passed down for generations. There were also some more recent additions, like squishing limes under the tires of a new car before driving it for the first time, for good luck — I always wonder how that particular one came about. As a child I observed my parents as they carried these rituals out, making us participate along with them, and I put it down to one more thing they made us do. My younger, impatient self was not very interested in these things, favouring my western books and TV. We rarely discussed the meaning and significance behind them; I am not sure how much my parents knew or even understood themselves. Now, as an adult, I am no longer dismissive of these practices, and I am interested in learning and understanding more. It intrigues me how these rituals — not just the ones belonging to my culture, but rituals from all over the world — came into being and managed to survive the passage of time. 

When my father died unexpectedly, we had a traditional funeral for him. At that time, overcome by grief, I just wanted to grieve in private and not have to go through the very public process that is a Hindu funeral. Some of the rituals that involved my newly widowed mother were cruel, and watching grown men argue over my father’s dead body about the order in which certain rites were to be performed filled me with unspeakable anger. But looking back now, the many other rituals helped me achieve a sense of closure. Death, especially when it is sudden, is hard to grasp. With those rituals, we marked the end of his life and the passing of his soul, and moved a step further in our grieving process. 

Now having moved from the East to the West, I am far away from the culture I grew up in, and with the distance it is easy to forget the rituals of my childhood. It is not easy to carry out these rituals alone, without your elders to guide you. Some of them feel pointless in the absence of family and friends. However, while I have lost touch with some rituals, I have also gained some new ones. I have adopted rituals like putting up a tree and decorating the house with lights every year for Christmas. These help me celebrate the gloomy winter months, and embrace and settle into my home here. 

Rituals mark moments in our lives, both big and small. They are an opportunity to slow down and reflect. A way to say thank you, like our harvest festival growing up, and Thanksgiving here. A time to celebrate family and friends, like Diwali and Christmas.  As our lives become increasingly fast-paced, we have less time for our rituals. Some rituals are better off being forgotten; we can leave the not-so-nice ones and carry forward the better ones. 

Rituals are not just associated with religions and cultures. They can also be the things we do for ourselves. A warm bath at the end of a hard week of work. The tea I make myself every morning that is pure comfort in a mug. Journaling. It is so easy to forget them as we hurtle through life, trying to juggle everything on our to-do lists, but we must make sure to make time for these rituals. These are the most important ones, the ones that we must make time for in order to cherish ourselves, to celebrate ourselves, to recharge ourselves in order to keep going and to find the best version of ourselves.

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