It started, as many things in our school batchmates’ WhatsApp group do, with a bit of banter. Someone forwarded a meme poking fun at how people argue endlessly about which ritual is “correct.” Another friend added, almost in passing, that religions all tell us to rise above the ego—yet ironically, it is the ego that most often twists their message.

That line stopped me.

Because isn’t that the paradox of our times? Spirituality asks us to transcend the self, yet pride often sneaks back in, distorting teachings into weapons of superiority. What is meant to unite ends up dividing. That stray WhatsApp comment lingered with me long after the chat went silent.

If we look beyond outward differences, religions across the world share a common rhythm. They call us to humility, compassion, and selflessness.

Prayer, meditation, service, reflection—all are practices to quiet the noise of the ego, soften the heart, and connect us with something larger than ourselves.

At their best, these traditions remind us that enlightenment is not about “proving” or “winning.” It is about dissolving pride and rediscovering unity.

But the ego has a way of creeping back in. We see it in history—wars fought in God’s name, communities fractured by dogma, people silenced in the name of “truth.”

And we see it in everyday life:

• The pride in saying “we alone are right.”
• A smug thought that “my faith is deeper.”
• A quick dismissal of someone who worships differently.

Slowly, rituals turn into badges of superiority. Doctrines harden into dividing lines. Spirituality becomes about being right, not being kind.

It reminded me of my own student days at Delhi University, when I dabbled in campus activism. We were young, idealistic, and certain of our beliefs. In hindsight, I realize how often our conviction slipped into arrogance. We debated with passion, but also with a subtle pride that “our perspective was purer.” That pride, I now see, was just another mask of the ego—the same ego that religions warn us about.

Strip away those layers of pride, and what remains is simple and luminous. True religion doesn’t call us to assert superiority—it calls us to embrace humility.

It doesn’t ask us to judge—it asks us to connect.
It doesn’t thrive in exclusion—it blossoms in empathy.

The divine spark exists in every soul. Recognizing that is the first step toward genuine spirituality.

Of course, rising above the ego is not easy. It’s not a single act but a lifelong discipline. It shows up in small choices—choosing patience over irritation, kindness over pride, empathy over judgment.

That WhatsApp chat reminded me that the real test of spirituality is not in rituals or doctrines but in the everyday ways we tame our pride and open our hearts.

The world today feels more fragmented than ever—religion, politics, identity. And in such a fractured world, the call to rise above ego feels urgent.

Religion’s purpose is not to divide but to heal. Not to judge but to unite. If we approach spirituality with humility and openness, we rediscover its true transformative power—to connect, uplift, and bring peace.

That evening, after scrolling back through the WhatsApp banter, I sat with this reflection:

The essence of religion is not pride but love. Not superiority but unity. Not judgment but compassion.

Perhaps the most powerful prayer is not “make me right” but: “Make me humble. Make me kind.”

Maybe that is where true spirituality really begins.