ritual as resistance
on turning the mundane into sacred, again and again
They say change is the only constant; i like to think of my rituals as my forever constant, my thread of continuity through every chapter of life. Through this infinite romance with the unknown.
Rituals might conjure images of elaborate ceremonies that we have grown up witnessing, whether religious, cultural or born out of superstition. The rituals i am talking about, however, are rooted in the person and help us plant ourselves within the vast tapestry of life.
Lately, i’ve been circling back to the idea of rituals as something innate and necessary, now more than ever. Something that feels increasingly important in a world that asks us to be endlessly productive, endlessly new.
Rituals, at their core, are about repetition, rhythm and familiarity. They are the opposite of novelty, which makes them so revolutionary right now.
In repeating the same acts - of drinking our morning tea from the same cup every day, buying the same planner/notebook every year, sitting at the same table in our favourite restaurant, applying the same moisturiser year after year - we create a sense of continuity.
We develop a language of our soul that bleeds into the physical world. This feeling of self now stretches beyond our being and across days, months, even generations.
Finding comfort in, and choosing, the same things repeatedly has, in many ways, simplified my life. I mostly buy things to replace what has already served its time. Over the years, i’ve tried to be spontaneous with shopping, browsing online or visiting malls, but it doesn’t work for me.
I usually begin with a very clear vision of what i want, often informed by films or Pinterest. Once i know that i need a baby-pink, sheer, ribbed, full-sleeved, turtleneck, i find myself consciously and subconsciously searching only for that.
It almost feels like i prefer a uniform-style system across all aspects of my life; from clothing to jewellery, skincare, home decor, bed linen, groceries and even the detergent i use. Instead of feeling restrictive, this kind of repetition feels liberating to me. It removes excess choice and decision-making, leaving more space for me to live a peaceful life.
Rituals remind me that i have the agency to shape my own, unique, specific, peculiar, romantic relationship with the world.
What i find especially powerful is how rituals move between the personal and the communal. Personal rituals help me relate with the world in my own way while also helping me return to myself, especially when it’s so easy to feel scattered and overstimulated. The communal ones place me inside something larger, reminding me that my life is part of a longer, wider story.
What i love most about Indian culture is that most of our rituals are rooted in nature. We greet the sun in the morning, we worship rivers as living entities, we tie our festivals to lunar cycles, harvests, monsoons. In Assam, there is a traditional ritual called ‘Tuloni Biya’ (translating to small wedding) where a girl is symbolically married to a banana tree when she reaches puberty, it’s a ceremonial way of celebrating her first menstruation, marking her transition into womanhood.
Even our body becomes a site where nature and ritual meet; turmeric is used both for external beauty and inner healing, flowers are worn for adorning the self and also used as offerings to the Gods. These practices blur the line between care and worship.
Rituals stemming from beauty, festivals or prayer - applying henna, mothers oiling their children’s hair, making the same sweets for Eid every year, decorating the home with marigolds or mango leaves, fasting and feasting - all of it exists on the same continuum. There’s a seamless integration of the sacred and the mundane and i find it deeply grounding and inspiring.
Many of us find ourselves living in cities in pursuit of our dreams, sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity. In city life, rituals can become our anchors. When everything around us is optimized for movement, rituals insist on stillness. They ask us to be present in our bodies, in our senses and in the moment we are inhabiting.
They bring us to the here and now.
I also want to demystify the idea that rituals are about self-improvement. They exist to texture our lives, to add layers of meaning, memory and attention to things that might otherwise go unnoticed.
Rituals make us richer, not better.
There is also something deeply comforting about the way rituals connect us to our ancestors. When i borrow, and then repeat certain practices, i’m aware that i am not the first to do so. It’s natural for a ritual to evolve or transform as it journeys through time, but the act itself carries memory. It becomes a way of staying in conversation with those who came before us.
I try to weave some of these ancestral practices into my everyday life, small things like brushing my teeth with a miswak stick or charcoal. I still don’t clip my nails after sunset, even though there’s no scientific explanation for it. This letter naturally leads into the next, where i’ll be sharing a list of the rituals my family and i practice, especially those rooted in our connection to nature.
For me, my everyday rituals are windows into presence. When i slow down and stop rushing through things, i begin to meet them with attention. I remember that i am not behind and there’s no race.
Over time, these small, repeated gestures create a sense of steadiness. My cup feels full and also calm. These rituals offer a way of staying close to myself; they help me remember who i am beneath the noise and movement of the world.
I think this is what resistance looks like now.
Choosing slowness, tenderness and nowness.
Choosing to return, to ourselves and to the same humble acts,
again and again and again.
A very beautiful post. Thanks Imdad