I believe.

It's the age old question. The question of faith. And when it comes to this, you're either on this side of the fence or that. You couldn't be sitting on it. You either believe or you don't. People do call it fashionable names. Atheism, Monotheism, Polytheism, Agnosticism, Mysticism... there are as many creeds as there are philosophers around every street corner. But if you were to have to break all these belief systems down to their most fundamental notions, you would have to hinge each one around a single pivotal macro-question: Do you believe? I would urge you to note here, that this question is very different from another omniscient query repeated across the many neatly printed philosophical volumes relegated for eternity to the antiquated shelves of obscure libraries: Is there a God? You may have reason to believe that the answer to the latter question is in the negative and yet choose to answer the former question in the affirmative. It's only a question of faith. And faith, does not draw its lifeblood from the drab morass of reality. It's something more sublime and pure of spirit. Faith is made of the same stuff that gives life to living.

On the question of faith, I always reflect back on the events that unfold in a certain movie that I watched some years back and have watched numerous times since- The Polar Express. It's a simple children's film-one of the many that are repeated on one of the 'English Movie' channels on Indian television every Christmas eve. The theme, again, is neither novel nor curious like some of the more recent Hollywood movies aimed at a school-going audience. But it raises and addresses a question that draws you in and forces you to stop munching on your jumbo pack of Act II popcorn. The question of faith. Over the course of the movie, a young boy's faith in Santa Claus is rattled by a series of events. He is on a train known as The Polar express, one that takes kids to the North Pole to visit Santa Claus. One of these kids will be the lucky one and will receive from Santa the first gift of Christmas. Right through the eventful journey, the boy is made to question his beliefs: Is this for real? Isn't it bizarre that a train should travel to the North Pole in the middle of the night to meet a guy called Santa Claus? Huh. What hogwash. Isn't this guy bogus anyway?
But that's not even the point. Even when the boy gets to learn of the answers to these myriad skeptical questions and reaches the North Pole to meet Santa Claus, he's faced with another crisis of faith. He discovers that he is unable to hear the bells of Christmas. Flustered and disappointed he watches on as all the other kids rejoice at the sounds of the jingling bells and the sight of Santa Claus and the elves.

Then it happens. He raises the bell to his ears and whispers.. almost in doubt, "I believe." Then louder again, " I believe!" And now he gives the bell a little jiggle and lo! He hears the most beautiful sound in the world. It is for the movie to narrate the rest of this most delightful story. What baffles me is how, through such a juvenile plot, a question of such immense import can be addressed. Do you believe? Well that's all that matters isn't it? It doesn't even matter what's true and rational and scientific and logical. What matters is what you think. The story in the movie is narrated by the same boy who has now grown up and is an old man. He ends the movie thus: "As years passed by, most of the kids around me stopped hearing that bell... because they stopped believing. My parents could never hear it. My sister stopped hearing it. But for me, and for those who truly believe, the first bell of Christmas still tolls.... "