I don’t impart any religious knowledge to my kids…
I’ve been a mother for the last eleven years — two boys, eleven and nine and a half. And in all this time, I’ve never taught them anything about religion.
I know a little about garbh gyan, the idea that a mother’s thoughts and actions during pregnancy shape the child’s consciousness. But I didn’t practice it. During both my pregnancies, I watched all kinds of movies, read smut, Harry Potter books, and romance novels. I even wrote the first draft of my novel (which I later deleted, never to be recovered). I ate all sorts of junk food — vegetarian only, but still junk.
What I’m trying to say is — I was never the kind of spiritually charged or ritualistically devoted mother I’ve seen others be. Yet, when I became a mother, I knew I wanted to pass on the best of what I had learnt from my parents.
And so, despite all my imperfections, my kids have grown into curious, intuitive, kind-hearted beings. Stubborn, yes. But confident. My elder one has inherited my anger — the same temper that runs through my father. But I’ve learnt to repair what I damage, hoping they will do it better someday.
The elder one is disciplined, rule-abiding — like his father.
The younger one is free-spirited, artistic — like me.
The Absence of Religion, the Presence of Values
We never raised them to be religious.
Primarily because I’m not.
Secondarily, because I genuinely don’t know how.
What I do know is how to teach compassion — for people, for animals, for the world. How to help them listen, reason, and express. How to help them stay curious.
Religious schools never appealed to me. I can’t fully explain why. Maybe because I didn’t want them to inherit rituals without understanding. Maybe because I was more invested in emotional learning — listening when they were upset, calming them when they spiralled, being firm when necessary, and soft when it mattered.
I’ve tried to create an environment where emotional expression isn’t punished, where they can come to me or their father and talk. Whether or not I’ve succeeded, I don’t know — I’m still learning emotional regulation myself. But that’s been my focus: raising humans who can feel, think, and connect.
How We Parent Without Prayers
My husband teaches through actions.
Through play — whether outdoors or over video games.
Through freedom — letting them decide what to wear, what to listen to, how to spend their free time, how to handle conflict, or even how to choose their friends.
Through the movies and shows we watch together.
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He teaches them to think beyond where they are.
We observe what they get curious about, the questions they ask, and how those questions are deeply reflective, even for us.
My elder one notices when I laugh at his jokes — he pauses and asks,
“What made you laugh? Did you really find it funny?”
He wants to know if he can make me laugh again.
My younger one finds me when he’s hurt, tired, happy, or just bored.
They talk to both of us when they’re in a fix. And when we talk back, they listen — not always immediately, but they listen.
My husband often tells me, “Offer them a perspective and wait. Don’t force it. Let them reach it on their own.”
This is new to me. I wasn’t raised that way. But it makes sense — our kids are growing into pre-teens. It’s time they learn introspection, dialogue, and decision-making.
No Religion, Still Grounded
So, yes. We have never been religiously sound parents.
We don’t recite verses or tell them mythological stories.
But we’ve been consistent about our values — kindness, reasoning, openness, and self-awareness.
Our approach has been simple:
- Lead by example.
- Stay curious.
- Learn from them as much as they learn from us.
And perhaps that’s enough.
Perhaps that is a form of spirituality too — the kind that grows not in temples or scriptures, but in everyday moments of connection, reflection, and understanding.
