“Your humble columnist has the dubious honour of coining the phrase ‘Internet Hindus’ “

When I read this sentence in Sagarika Ghose’s latest column in the Hindustan Times, it took me a while to figure out why I could feel a chalky distaste at the back of my throat. It reminded me of the first fictional character I ever came to associate with the word “sanctimonious” – Uriah Heep from Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. You see, he too was an ’umble man.

Ms Ghose’s assertions in this column are exceedingly disagreeable. “Look beyond politics” is a stellar example of how not to write a column. Unclear, self-contradictory, muddled and confused, the reader is at a loss when it comes to understanding what exactly the writer wants to say.

She laments that “there is largescale Hinduisation of popular culture, as seen in the best-selling novels by Amish on the life of Shiva, the hit TV serial Mahadev, the thronging temples, the high-decibel festivals and export-quality Hinduism in the form of yoga gurus and wellness spas”.  And yet goes on to ask if “…is this continual protest, actually preventing Hinduism from being popularised, from being thrown open to newer and younger audiences?” How does this work then? Is this large scale “Hinduisation” being thrust upon an unsuspecting audience who would rather not visit those Wellness spas and not watch those serials? OMG, WORSE STILL, ARE WE BEING FORCED TO READ WELL-WRITTEN BOOKS WHEN WE COULD BE READING A BOOK ON PEOPLE WHO DRINK GIN??!!!

Not only does Ms Ghose seem to get her entire worldview from Twitter, she also seems to be confused about which aspect of Hinduism she wants to examine in her piece – cultural, religious or social? I am not carrying a flag for Hinduism, but for nuance and a bit of research.

If the author had just cared to visit the “Indian writing” section of a bookstore, she would have noticed that the “intelligent examination” of Hinduism that she so yearns for is happening. Many of the questions that she poses have been addressed. In fact, one wonders why she would think that a book series like the Shiva Trilogy contributes to the “cultural emergency” Salman Rushdie is justifiably upset by. Isn’t it a good thing that authors such as Amish Tripathi, Ashok Banker and Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni are rewriting our popular myths? What could be better than reading the Mahabharata from Draupadi’s perspective (Palace of Illusions) to break the shackles of the patriarchal perspectives of our epics? For far too long we have unquestioningly accepted the “grandma’s” version which would have us believe that Draupadi passively accepted her five husbands and was equally dutiful towards each. But hey, if she wasn’t, was she unjustified?

Ashok Banker’s Ramayan series flips the epic over its heels. It makes one wonder – does anyone really have a monopoly over the myth? Who knows how Valmiki wanted his work interpreted? We only know with certainty how Tulsidas wanted us to think of Ram – as the Maryada Purush. Banker gives all of his female characters – from Sita to Kaushalya to Manthara – individual agency. He makes them masters of their actions and sometimes pawns to their fate – as we all are. Similarly, Anand Neelakantan’s Asura is a fascinating, if boring in chunks, retelling of the Ramayana from Ravan’s point of view. It examines the caste system and the social prejudices which the conventional version glosses over.

As a reader, one of the most gratifying trends that you would notice in recent years is the tendency to gravitate towards books which inject flavour into that part of India’s history and culture which has been influenced by Hinduism. Be it The Difficulty of Being Good by Gurcharan Das – which is a sombre reminder of what we can take from the Mahabharat into our daily lives and what we can discard – or the cheeky Great Indian Novel by Shashi Tharoor – which hilariously meshes the Mahabharat and the Indian freedom struggle – or even the masterfully compiled In Search of Sita edited by Malashri Lal and Namita Gokhale – which visits the many interpretations of the lady – there are many, many books which challenge our conventional notions of spirituality, religion and “Bharatiya Sanskriti”. Are these too the “Hinduisation” of popular culture? Even The Hindu carried a brilliant op-ed by Chitra Padmanabhan on the lessons for the Uttarakhand tragedy from the myth of the Ganga. How then, do these works support the statement that “the modern Hindu is denied the freedom to re-interpret and interrogate his religion because of fear”?

What makes “Look Beyond Politics” and indeed, much else of Sagarika Ghose’s writing a disappointment is that while one may disagree with her assertions, one cannot help but agree with her views on what needs to be fixed. Festivals have become way too consumerist. There are far too many people who get easily offended when their narrow and rigid ideas of religion are questioned. A songwriter must not face a ridiculous lawsuit when he pens a song on Radha.

By clumsily stitching together blanket statements on discordant themes, adding a generous dose of sanctimony and throwing in everyone’s favourite 4-letter word – Modi, Ms Ghose, column-after-column misses an opportunity to come up with constructive solutions. For a journalist in Delhi who reports daily on Hindu Nationalists and Hindutva politicians (her claim, not mine), we would have expected a lot more answers to the many, many, oh-so-many questions which she raises. Her purpose would have been so much better served had she acknowledged the vast body of work which does re-examine society and then ruminated on why there still exists no political will to combat anti-social elements who hijack free speech by using religion as a shield. One can only hope that for the next time, Ms Ghose looks beyond Twitter.

The views expressed are personal