halfinthesky

halfinthesky ATHEISM IS A WAY OF LIFE
Kondaveeti Satyavati



[Kondaveeti Satyavati is the editor and publisher of Bhumika, a Telugu feminist magazine that has been published regularly since 1993. She is also a writer; a collection of her short stories was published in 2003 under the title Aame Kala (Her Dream). Among the awards she received were the Best Woman Writer Award from Ptti Sreeramulu Telugu University in 2003 for her collection of short stories and the Best Woman Journalist Award from Data News Feature Foundation in 2005]

When I look back into my past I can not but wonder at the changes that occurred in my life. Where have I started my journey and where have I reached! I did struggle a lot all these years to reach where I am today. In my struggle for existence my parents, friends and, later, my husband, helped me tremendously. I enjoyed the warmth of my friends throughout my life and I still do. The fragrance of friendship was with me at every major turn in my life. I love people and I have immense faith and trust in them. If I need any help of any kind, I look toward my fellow human beings.

I am an atheist. Atheism is a way of life for me. I don’t believe that a supernatural power rules this world. Nature is the prime caretaker of this world. If we protect nature it will protect us.

I said that atheism is a way of life for me. It has been so for the last thirty years. You may ask how I became an atheist and who influenced me. Nobody inspired me. Rahul Sankrutyayan’s “Olga to Ganga” made a tremendous impact on me. This book changed my whole attitude. After that I read a number of other books. Premchand’s “Godan” also inspired me. Before that I used to be very religious and believe in god. I had attended Bhajans and religious meetings. I remember participating in a religious function held in a temple and getting 1st prize for my performance on Gita. We were asked to read some Sanskrit slokas of our choice from Gita and explain their meaning. That too in front of thousands of people. I read some slokas and explained their meaning. Everybody appreciated my effort and I got the 1 st prize. That happened in the 70s and I was just 19 at the time. One reason for my prize-winning Gita performance was probably my training in Sanskrit. I was schooled in the Oriental system and consequently I had studied only Sanskrit from 6th to 10th standards, i.e., Sanskrit and nothing else, no math, no social studies, no science. My Sanskrit education included studying Meghasandesam, Kumarasambhavam, Kadambari, Raghuvamsham, Champu Ramayanam, Mrichakatikam, Amarakosam and other classical texts. This background must have helped me get the 1st prize in the Gita competition.

I should tell you about my family background. I was born in an agricultural family. My grandfather had seven sons and two daughters. My father was the second child. It was a big joint family. After my father married my mother, they remained with the joint family. My mother and the other women used to cook for nearly a hundred members of the joint family every day. The lives of these women, including my mother, were miserable. After the men ate, they would have the leftovers to eat, if at all. Occasionally, they would fill their stomachs with ganji (rice liquid) spiced with onions. In my childhood I noticed all these discriminations towards women in the joint family. At that time I was too young to understand the politics of the family. In our family my grandfather was king. He made all the decisions. My father had no voice. He worked in the fields all day. He didn’t even a have a shirt on his back. All seven of the brothers together had five, six shirts. My grandfather was miserly in the extreme. He expanded his holding to a hundred acres of land, but he would not spend money even on basic necessities. My education would cost money, but whom would I ask for it? My father was a frail man, almost naked with a small piece of cloth to cover his body, sleeping on the ground after a tedious day of work in the fields. How could I fight with that man for my education? I never approached him about my education, but he took the initiative on his own and tried to enroll me in a Christian school near my village. When my father escorted me to the school one day for admission, I declined to join. The Principal of the school told me during the interview that I should not wear “bottu” from that day on. I told him then and there that I would not remove my bottu and I would not join his school. I narrate this incident just to show that I was opinionated and traditional those days.


I joined the Oriental school when I was twelve years old. This school was 4 kms away from my village and I had to walk the 8 kms every day. The name of my village was Sitaramapuram. It was a small village and I loved it. My house was situated in the middle of fruit gardens that included mango, sapota, custard apple, and cashew nut groves. On one side of the village was Godavari and on the other the Bay of Bengal. I loved Godavari and boating on the river under the light of the full moon. I am still attached to my village and enjoy its warmth whenever I visit there.

Until 2005, my mother and I were together. When I migrated to Hyderabad my mother came with me. She was about 80-years old when she left me and this world at midnight on the 14th of May, 2005. I took her loss very naturally. Everybody dies one day. I served my mother wholeheartedly and cared for her myself. Though I had two brothers, one elder to me and the other younger, and two elder sisters, I took pride in taking care of my mother all by myself and making sure she was never wanting or unhappy. In the end, she passed away with ailments common to old age and I took every care to send her away with dignity and without any mental agony. When my mother was in the hospital in a very critical condition, I never prayed anyone to save my mother. I know her condition and the doctors told me that my mother was living her last days. I accepted the reality and I never propitiated any supernatural power for my mother. My mother had lived with dignity and went away with the same dignity. We took her body to our village and burned her remains in a family plot. My mother’s memory will remain with me till I die.

My parents never forced me to get married. They understood my ambitions, aims and desires. I made it clear to them that I wanted to live independently, on my own terms and conditions. I got a job in 1979, a year after my father passed away, and I started my independent life.