Latest news with #interfaith
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
'Our love is frowned upon, but we push through': Navigating religion and relationships
It was love at first sight for Adarsh Ramchurn. "I couldn't control it," he says of his flourishing affection for Nav Sangha. But their relationship is "frowned upon" by some in their communities, they say, as Adarsh is Hindu and Nav is Sikh. They've been an item for three years and say they receive hateful comments on social media when posting about their life together. They are also abused because Adarsh, 24, has a darker skin tone than Nav, a form of prejudice known as colourism. India's interfaith couples on edge after new law 'My parents' interracial marriage caused a global scandal' "We push through it," says Nav, 22. "There are also people who are very supportive and that are in similar situations." Data compiled by YouGov in January suggests 45% of 18 to 24-year-olds in the UK believe there is a God, or believe there are Gods. The next highest figure, 36%, is for the over-65s. BBC News spoke to Nav and Adarsh as well as a Christian from Married At First Sight (MAFS), a Muslim from The Only Way is Essex (Towie), and a former Jehovah's Witness for the Sex After documentary series. During a discussion between the participants, Nav was asked what the hardest bit about being a Sikh was. "Probably getting the backlash of being with a Hindu," she said. She and Ardash knew their interfaith relationship could be an issue for their parents, so spoke to them early. "I know it's different for every family, there can be difficult dynamics," says Adarsh. "But if you can have the open discussion [about] dating outside of your religion… I'd always say [you should]." Something Adarsh's parents were quick to ask him about was marriage. The couple say, if they were to wed, they would probably do a Sikh and a Hindu ceremony. "If we have kids, I feel like it's important that they learn about both religions and faiths," Nav adds. Adarsh agrees and says he's "looking forward to it". Junaid Ahmed's parents were not as accommodating. His fear of being rejected by them took hold at a young age. Junaid knew being gay contravened the Islamic beliefs he and his family shared. "When I did finally come out [aged 18], I did expect the worst and… [it] did happen," he tells us. "They threw me out; they disowned me." He says he doesn't blame his parents for ostracising him. "I genuinely don't - it's made me the person I am today." Junaid, now aged 26 and a star of Towie, says he often gets abuse online from other Muslims because he is open about his sexual orientation, but "that [has] never changed my relationship with God". He says he is grateful for his religious upbringing and still prays everyday. Like Junaid, Martin Riley - who was brought up a Jehovah's Witness - was also ostracised by his family. However, in his case, it was because a few years ago he was expelled from his religion completely, in a process called disfellowshipping. For Riley, as he is known to his friends, this meant being shunned by other members of his congregation - including close friends and family. His first marriage, which lasted 20 years, had broken down a few months before he was expelled. He was a particularly strong believer and, while dating after he was expelled, he abided by the rule of not having sex before marriage. It was only when Riley began dating the woman who is now his wife, that he began seriously considering whether he wanted to continue adhering to the religion that he'd been part of for 40 years. His wife is not a Jehovah's Witness. "I realised that I did not want to have a future that didn't include her, whether that meant returning to the religion or not." After having sex with her for the first time, which he describes as being, "like in the movies", he recalls: "I was actually surprised by how guiltless I felt about the whole thing." Riley, 48, now considers himself an atheist. Looking back at his expulsion from the religion aged 42, he says: "It was devastating for me, at the time. Now I think it is probably one of the best things to ever happen to me." Unlike Riley, Sacha Jones did not grow up devoutly religious, but was baptised as a Christian last year after finding her faith. She has vowed to remain abstinent until she marries. "I haven't slept with anyone since my baptism," she says. "So I'm fresh in the eyes of the Lord!" Sacha, 30, also says the culture around dating today makes it difficult to form a long-term relationship. Last year she participated in MAFS, but split up with her partner following the show. "It's the absolute trenches out here in the dating world… it's difficult to trust a man anyway, but then to trust someone that doesn't fear God as well?" She says she doesn't miss sex as much as she might do because she isn't dating anyone at the moment. She believes the wait will be worth it - once she's married. "I no longer lack purpose or peace," says Sacha, who isn't the "party animal" she once was. "I'm happier than I've ever been." What the data says about love and marriage in India Young US men are joining Russian churches promising 'absurd levels of manliness' 'I couldn't stop watching': Personal stories of how porn obsession takes over lives


BBC News
3 days ago
- Health
- BBC News
How religion affects relationships and sex for people in the UK
It was love at first sight for Adarsh Ramchurn. "I couldn't control it," he says of his flourishing affection for Nav Sangha. But their relationship is "frowned upon" by some in their communities, they say, as Adarsh is Hindu and Nav is been an item for three years and say they receive hateful comments on social media when posting about their life are also abused because Adarsh, 24, has a darker skin tone than Nav, a form of prejudice known as colourism. "We push through it," says Nav, 22. "There are also people who are very supportive and that are in similar situations."Data compiled by YouGov in January suggests 45% of 18 to 24-year-olds in the UK believe there is a God, or believe there are Gods. The next highest figure, 36%, is for the News spoke to Nav and Adarsh as well as a Christian from Married At First Sight (MAFS), a Muslim from The Only Way is Essex (Towie), and a former Jehovah's Witness for the Sex After documentary series. During a discussion between the participants, Nav was asked what the hardest bit about being a Sikh was. "Probably getting the backlash of being with a Hindu," she and Ardash knew their interfaith relationship could be an issue for their parents, so spoke to them early."I know it's different for every family, there can be difficult dynamics," says Adarsh. "But if you can have the open discussion [about] dating outside of your religion… I'd always say [you should]." Something Adarsh's parents were quick to ask him about was couple say, if they were to wed, they would probably do a Sikh and a Hindu ceremony."If we have kids, I feel like it's important that they learn about both religions and faiths," Nav adds. Adarsh agrees and says he's "looking forward to it".Junaid Ahmed's parents were not as accommodating. His fear of being rejected by them took hold at a young age. Junaid knew being gay contravened the Islamic beliefs he and his family shared."When I did finally come out [aged 18], I did expect the worst and… [it] did happen," he tells us. "They threw me out; they disowned me."He says he doesn't blame his parents for ostracising him. "I genuinely don't - it's made me the person I am today."Junaid, now aged 26 and a star of Towie, says he often gets abuse online from other Muslims because he is open about his sexual orientation, but "that [has] never changed my relationship with God". He says he is grateful for his religious upbringing and still prays Junaid, Martin Riley - who was brought up a Jehovah's Witness - was also ostracised by his in his case, it was because a few years ago he was expelled from his religion completely, in a process called Riley, as he is known to his friends, this meant being shunned by other members of his congregation - including close friends and family. His first marriage, which lasted 20 years, had broken down a few months before he was was a particularly strong believer and, while dating after he was expelled, he abided by the rule of not having sex before marriage. It was only when Riley began dating the woman who is now his wife, that he began seriously considering whether he wanted to continue adhering to the religion that he'd been part of for 40 years. His wife is not a Jehovah's Witness. "I realised that I did not want to have a future that didn't include her, whether that meant returning to the religion or not."After having sex with her for the first time, which he describes as being, "like in the movies", he recalls: "I was actually surprised by how guiltless I felt about the whole thing."Riley, 48, now considers himself an atheist. Looking back at his expulsion from the religion aged 42, he says: "It was devastating for me, at the time. Now I think it is probably one of the best things to ever happen to me." Unlike Riley, Sacha Jones did not grow up devoutly religious, but was baptised as a Christian last year after finding her faith. She has vowed to remain abstinent until she marries."I haven't slept with anyone since my baptism," she says. "So I'm fresh in the eyes of the Lord!"Sacha, 30, also says the culture around dating today makes it difficult to form a long-term relationship. Last year she participated in MAFS, but split up with her partner following the show."It's the absolute trenches out here in the dating world… it's difficult to trust a man anyway, but then to trust someone that doesn't fear God as well?"She says she doesn't miss sex as much as she might do because she isn't dating anyone at the moment. She believes the wait will be worth it - once she's married."I no longer lack purpose or peace," says Sacha, who isn't the "party animal" she once was. "I'm happier than I've ever been."


Forbes
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Cooking And Coping: Making Vedndakai (Okra) Curry With Sangeetha Kowsik
Cooking And Coping is a series created by @HungryEditor in early 2020 profiling people on what they are cooking and how they are coping in the world today. Sangeetha Kowsik is an artist, designer, Hindu chaplain, and founder of multidisciplinary creative ... More studio Ihsan Ishan Design. Sangeetha Kowsik is a Parsons School of Design graduate who has garnered decades of experience across fashion, beauty, luxury, streetwear, skateboarding, and gallery artistry working for global brands such as Estée Lauder, Tiffany & Co., Ralph Lauren, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art. She is the founder of Ihsan Ishan, an award-winning multidisciplinary creative studio dedicated to creating peace, understanding, and unity through innovative design. Kowsik also serves as the Hindu chaplain for NYU, where she founded the NYU Hindu Center. She holds the rare distinction of being a Hindu Indian American woman trained in Islamic/Arabic calligraphy, uniquely blending Hindu and Islamic traditions in her art to promote interfaith unity. Kowsik made history as the first woman of color to lead a design team at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in 150 years. She is a passionate advocate for underrepresented communities, including women and LGBTQIA+, using her art to connect diverse cultures and promote inclusivity. Kowsik's impactful interfaith initiatives and designs have earned her numerous accolades, including 'Chaplain of the Year' at NYU presented by Chelsea Clinton and the Mozaik Philanthropy Award for her Black Lives Matter design. Through her lectures and art, Sangeetha champions faith, inclusivity, and the spiritual significance of cultures, striving to create a more compassionate, understanding, and harmonious world. Sangeetha Kowsik is the first woman of color to lead a design team at The Metropolitan Museum of ... More Art. Benjamin Liong Setiawan: What recipe are you loving right now? Sangeetha Kowsik: My father's vedndakai (okra in Tamil language) curry. Vedndakai (Okra) Curry Ingredients Instructions Vedndakai (okra) Curry Setiawan: What do you love about this recipe? Kowsik: My father, with great love and devotion, used to prepare this curry every Thursday and offer it at the Shirdi Sai Baba Temple in Milpitas, California. In Hindu, food prepared for the deity is called Naivedyam—a sacred offering. After the puja (ritual prayer), the offering becomes prasad, comes from the Sanskrit word "prasāda" meaning "favor" or 'grace.' It's not just about taste—it's about memory, devotion, and the love behind every bite. Setiawan: Any special memories connected to this recipe? Kowsik: What makes this even more meaningful is that Shirdi Sai Baba was a Muslim saint deeply revered by Hindus and Muslims. His teachings emphasized compassion, unity, and devotion beyond religious boundaries. Attending aarti with my father, then sharing a communal meal with people of all backgrounds, embodied everything beautiful about spiritual life—love, equality, and harmony. My father always taught that all faiths are equal and lead to the Divine. Setiawan: Mental health is so important. What are some concerns that occupy your mind? Kowsik: The world often feels overwhelming—negativity dominates social media and the news cycle. It can be exhausting. But I believe we have a choice: we can dwell in fear and anger, or we can choose joy, peace, and purpose. That's how I try to live—by choosing gratitude, hope, and beauty in spite of the chaos. Setiawan: What are some ways you're coping with all the stresses of those concerns? Kowsik: I stay close to kind people and meaningful experiences. My Hindu faith grounds me. I also use my creative work as a form of advocacy—to counter stereotypes and spread compassion, connection, and truth through art and design. Setiawan: What are you doing to keep your peace? Kowsik: My Hindu beliefs teach me to see divinity in all beings, all paths, all of creation. I'm the founder of the NYU Hindu Center and the Hindu Chaplain at NYU. I find peace in temple rituals—watch the pujas regularly live streamed from the Flushing Ganesha Temple, the first traditional Hindu Temple in the United States, which my father helped build. I also go to the gym regularly (shoutout to TMPL Fitness!)—barre, strength training, alignment classes. Movement and prayer—both keep me grounded. Ihsan Ishan Design all over printed hoodie. Setiawan: What are you doing to stay creative? Kowsik: Ihsan Ishan Design, my award-winning multidisciplinary studio, is rooted in interfaith and intercultural storytelling. I create work that educates, inspires, and connects—like Arabic calligraphy-based depictions of Hindu deities, or collections inspired by the shared cultural and faith stories of Mesoamerica and South Asia. Unique stories that educate and make a difference celebrating our interconnectedness versus divisiveness. Setiawan: What are you doing to stay connected? Kowsik: I meditate, work out, spend time with loved ones, travel, soak in sunshine, and visit museums. Nature, culture, and community keep me grounded and inspired. Setiawan: What have you been learning recently? Kowsik: I just returned from a research trip to Oxford, England. I focused on lost Hindu deities and scriptures of love—why their worship was erased, and why love is the most powerful force of all. This learning has been both healing and exhilarating. Persian tile scarf design by Ihsan Ishan Design Setiawan: What changes do you hope to see in the future? Kowsik: I dream of a more educated, compassionate, inclusive world. I was the first woman of color, Hindu, and South Asian, to lead a design team at The Met in its 150 year history. I advocate for deeper representation of global cultures—especially from Asia, Africa, and South America—in museums. It's critical to correct the harmful misrepresentations of faith and culture that still exist in many institutional spaces. I want to see an end to racism, sexism, homophobia, Islamophobia—and all forms of prejudice and discrimination. These phobias stem from ignorance and fear, and we must confront them through education and compassion. I would also like the world to understand that not all Indians speak Hindi. Tamil, not Hindi or even Sanskrit, is the oldest living language in the world. South Indian cultures are often overshadowed by dominant North Indian narratives and Bollywood representations in the West. This imbalance exists in part because there are more North Indians in Western diasporas, and because darker-skinned South Indians frequently face more racism and receive less visibility in global media and culture. I hope to see South India—its languages, aesthetics, spirituality, and philosophies—more fully represented in museums, fashion, film, and broader cultural discourse. Instead of perpetuating narratives of Hindu-Muslim division—largely rooted in the trauma of the 1947 Partition that affected North India—we should amplify the harmony, interconnectedness, and inclusive spirit of the South, which has a different historical experience. Setiawan: What rhythms are you trying to implement in your life? Kowsik: Surrender. Trusting the Divine to lead me where I'm meant to go. Even when life feels chaotic, I'm committed to staying grounded in love, trust, and grace. Subhanallah Tabla by Ihsan Ishan. Setiawan: What projects are you working on? Kowsik: I am currently expanding my Allah Swami exhibition to larger audiences and demographics—an ongoing series that celebrates the shared spiritual, cultural, and artistic traditions of Hinduism and Islam through the mediums of Arabic, Persian, and Urdu calligraphy. These works are displayed by the mosque at NYU, where they have surprised and delighted the Muslim community, who are often moved to learn that a Hindu artist created them. This project is produced through my studio, Ihsan Ishan Design. I received formal training in Arabic calligraphy while working at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and I use the form to unite Hindus and Muslims. In a time of escalating tension between India and Pakistan and within the broader Hindu-Muslim dynamic, this work is more important than ever. It focuses on what unites us—love, beauty, and shared heritage—rather than what divides us. As an interfaith and Hindu chaplain, I also give frequent lectures and workshops on Hinduism, religious literacy, and designing with cultural sensitivity. In collaboration with my friend, the scholar behind Persian Poetics, I am developing pop-up events featuring Ihsan Ishan's Persian Collection inspired by the interconnected cultures of Iran and South Asia. I also create branding, identity, logos, experiences, products, for a variety of clients and work for greater representation of cultures within museums. Persian Pomegranate Scarf by Ihsan Ishan Design Setiawan: What has been the most surprising to you lately? Kowsik: How negative social media and the news can be. But even in the darkness, there is always light—always something to smile about, to believe in. Setiawan: What has been inspiring to you lately? Kowsik: The Met's Superfine exhibition celebrating Black style and designers. The V&A's Mughal exhibition. The British Museum's show on South Asian faiths. The reopening of the Met's galleries on Africa, the Pacific, and Latin America. Representation is growing—but we still have so far to go. There is still a significant lack of people of color—and of individuals who actively practice non-Abrahamic faiths—working in major museums. As a result, there is widespread misinformation, misrepresentation, and deeply flawed interpretations being presented in exhibitions and tours. This urgently needs to change. Setiawan: What do you see is the best way for change to happen? Kowsik: Through art, design, music, education, and compassion. These are the true connectors. We must move beyond politics of fear and center creativity, truth, and kindness. Museums must employ more people of color and those who actually practice the faiths being displayed, to ensure honest, respectful representation. I believe advocacy and education—especially through art and design—are key to building a more just and compassionate future. Setiawan: What gives you hope for the future? Kowsik: The Divine. Diversity. Love. Creativity. Joy. You can feel hope everywhere—in smiles, in art, music, poetry, in people trying to leave the world better than they found it. Sangeetha Kowsik in North Africa You can follow Sangeetha Kowsik's work at @ihsan_ishan_design and Ihsan Ishan. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Find Benjamin Liong Setiawan on Instagram: @hungryeditor.
Yahoo
24-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Sacramento rabbi: Antisemitism is escalating. Will we finally confront it?
The brutal murder of a young Jewish couple outside the Washington D.C. Jewish Museum is not an isolated act, it is part of a terrifying pattern of rising antisemitic violence around the world, with Jews in the United States experiencing an alarming surge. In my interfaith work over the years, I have attended churches and other houses of worship of many different faiths. Never, in my experience, have I seen a security fence around the perimeter of those buildings, nor have I encountered armed guards at the door. That stands in stark contrast with my synagogue, and many synagogues and Jewish institutions in America today, equipped with wrought iron fences with locked security gates, off-duty armed deputies from the local sheriff's department and panic buttons with direct lines to the police. At many synagogues, services now begin with instructions for responding to an active shooter — an unsettling sign of the times in which we live. The day after the execution of the young couple, my wife and I flew to Los Angeles to attend Grandparents Day at our granddaughters' Jewish day school, housed at a synagogue. As we approached the school, we were met by armed security officers who asked for government-issued identification and verified that our names were on the guest list. I don't recall ever encountering such measures at any other house of worship I've visited. Am I missing something, or is it not painfully clear who is being targeted? This is the reality of what it means to be Jewish in America today. And it is compounded by a more dangerous form of antisemitism, one that hides behind the language of foreign policy. Let's be clear: the criticism of any nation, including Israel, is legitimate. Israelis themselves debate their government's actions openly and often. But when the Jewish state alone is denied the right to defend itself or even to exist, that is not about justice. That is antisemitism, plain and simple. To the Jew-haters of the world: We will not be silenced. We will stand strong, remain proud of who we are, and we will resist every attempt to erase our presence, our voice and our people. While the consoling words from our government and community leaders after tragedies like the one in D.C. are appreciated, words alone are not enough. It is beyond time for our leaders — and for every citizen of moral conscience — to wake up, speak out and stop this hatred. If we fail to act, we will only continue to feed the flames of Jew-hatred that have burned for centuries. I pray we find the courage and resolve to extinguish those flames once and for all. Reuven Taff is rabbi emeritus of Mosaic Law Congregation in Sacramento.


New York Times
23-05-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
Sarah Milgrim's Death Was a Tragedy. Distorting Her Legacy Would Be Another.
In a world flooded with empty slogans and online posturing, Sarah Milgrim was something far rarer: a quiet peace builder. She didn't seek headlines. She sought dialogue. Just a few years out of college, she was already known for her engagement with organizations that brought together Christians and Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians. Her final master's degree research project was on the role of cross-cultural friendships in peace-building. It was exactly that interest that allowed our paths to first cross in Morocco, less than one year ago, and in New York City just last month. This week those who knew Sarah as I did learned with horror that she was murdered outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, alongside her partner, Yaron Lischinsky, in what authorities have called a politically motivated, antisemitic attack. The couple were shot again and again as they left an interfaith event about 'turning pain into purpose' — a night dedicated to humanitarian collaboration, including efforts to aid civilians in Gaza. The shooter allegedly shouted 'Free Palestine.' The irony of that moment is so sharp, it almost feels scripted. But that is not the memory I want to hold. Sarah's legacy must not be co-opted, not by the person who shot her, and not by those who now wish to brand her with their politics or make her a poster child for a cause. Sarah's name should not become a pawn, nor a rallying cry, for those who seek to weaponize her death for political gain on either side of this conflict. The Sarah I knew was a practitioner of what might be called peace diplomacy. I met Sarah on an interfaith trip to Morocco, about 9 months ago, during a fellowship organized by the American Jewish Committee and the Mimouna Association, an organization that preserves Moroccan Jewish heritage and history. Our program brought together Jews and Muslims from across the United States, Israel, France and Morocco. It was her first visit to my country. Sarah was an American Jew and I am a French-Moroccan researcher. I'm Muslim, and my work focuses on diplomacy and peace-building in the Middle East, particularly initiatives such as the Abraham Accords, as well as the everyday people-to-people relations that can make peace a reality. From the beginning of our fellowship, it was clear that Sarah believed in the possibility of a different Middle East, one built on coexistence, not conflict. My first impression of her was how moved she was by the beauty of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. There she learned about Morocco's longstanding tradition of coexistence and the deep roots of Abrahamic dialogue that have long nurtured Jewish-Muslim friendships in the country. Out of respect for the local customs and the sacredness of the site, Sarah asked a companion to photograph her outside the mosque, wearing a veil. In that moment, I saw her as the embodiment of a promise — one offered by sincere, mutual respect. Sarah, I came to learn on that trip, was more than just a staffer at the Israeli had spent months working on behalf of women who were victims of sexual assault during the Oct. 7 attacks in Israel. She had also worked with Arab and Palestinian communities through Tech2Peace, a joint Israeli-Palestinian NGO, which offers Palestinians access to high tech, entrepreneurship and new opportunities. Two years ago, she spent weeks following the journey of 12 Israeli and Palestinian participants in a seminar hosted by the organization, held at the planned Jewish-Palestinian village in the center of Israel, Neve Shalom-Wahat al-Salam. I learned Sarah was committed to a concept known as the 'third narrative.' It's a vision that seeks to rise above the noise of vengeance and violence by focusing instead on shared humanity and the mutual right to dignity, safety and peace for Jews and Muslims. This effort is about more than dialogue; it's a deliberate stand against polarization. Sarah believed in creating a space for people to look for solutions. Sarah's life was taken by a man whose apparent radicalism attempted to erase her humanity and all that she stood for. The alleged killer, Elias Rodriguez, reportedly told police officers, 'I did it for Gaza,' after shooting Sarah, the Jewish girl from Kansas who wanted a Middle East in which Palestinians and Arabs, Muslims and Christians, can live in dignity next to the Jewish people of Israel. In his bullets, the killer could not have seen all that Sarah was, all that she believed in. Her Jewish identity was flattened into a target. In her murder he picked exactly the sort of person who might have altered the future. But just as the extremist misunderstood Sarah, so too do many of those who profess to weep for her loss. Those who mourn Sarah should reflect on her ideals, learn from her life's work and aim as she did on creating the fragile groundwork for Middle East peace. It was a future she helped prepare for, one conversation, one relationship at a time. The Sarah I engaged with over this past year never sought to be a hero. She chose to place herself in a conflict from which she could easily have walked away. If we want to honor Sarah Milgrim, we cannot let her become another symbol. We must remember her as she was: hopeful, committed, unbroken by what she witnessed in the violence and tragedies of the region. Any political exploitation of Sarah's murder will only be to lose her, again and again.