Key Points
- Gagandeep grew up in a Sikh family where the existence of God was not questioned.
- After her daughter and mother died, she says she doesn’t see the point in believing.
Australians are less religious than ever before, according to the 2021 Census. So, with many of us shifting away from traditional institutions, what does it mean to hold onto your beliefs? On Keeping the Faith, Insight explores the costs and rewards of sticking with spirituality. Watch Tuesday, 11 October from 8:30pm on SBS On Demand.
All my life I have struggled with the existence of God.
To me, God is a word open for interpretation.
Some people love him/her/they. I think we can believe in what we want as long as we respect other people's opinion.
I don’t believe in God anymore and would like to have a chat with this mysterious being whom some people fear or love.
Gagandeep said she no longer believes in a God.
My daughter Hannah left India and arrived in Australia in 2007. In 2018, she came out to me as transgender.
That evening everything changed. I saw my beautiful Hannah slowly coming out of her shell. She found her place in this world and my world has always been Hannah.
Hannah became a force to be reckoned with. She was very active in LGBTIQ+ groups and UN Youth.
I didn’t get to see her turn 18, go to university or travel the world. I’ll never see her turn 21 unless God interferes.
In 2019, Hannah and I were invited to speak on Insight for the episode Trans Teens.
After the program, Hannah became even more humble as people started to admire her for being herself and being the voice of the LGBTIQ+ community and even towards me for simply supporting my brave and beautiful daughter.
Hannah wanted to go to the London School of Economics and then be a politician and work for Australian youth and especially the LGBTIQ+ community.
She didn’t believe in a God unless there was evidence to prove otherwise.
Everything came tumbling down when Hannah died on 1 April 2020. She was 17.
My mother was a deeply religious person but Hannah’s death broke her. She died of a broken heart.
I didn’t get to see her turn 18, go to university or travel the world. I’ll never see her turn 21 unless God interferes. But hey, where is God? God was nowhere to be seen and I certainly have not felt his presence.
On the 21 October, in the same year, I lost my mum too.
As long as I can remember, my mother suffered from bouts of depression. But the birth of Hannah brought a new lease of life for my mum.
I saw this bond between my mother and Hannah didn’t need any words. Food cooked by Hannah’s Nani - my mother - made Hannah happy and my mother ecstatic.
My mother was a deeply religious person but Hannah’s death broke her. She died of a broken heart.
I am an exhausted, tired and angry mother. I want answers.
I don’t care about the world, about what they think of me regarding what I believe. I don’t know about others, but I need to feel a pull from God – otherwise it’s just going through the motions.
I am an exhausted, tired and angry mother. I want answers. I want to know why Hannah died when life was just starting for her.
The death of a child before their parent is unnatural.
I had to choose a dress in which Hannah was cremated. It was supposed to be the other way round.
I miss Hannah, her infectious smile, and her dry sense of humour. I miss her every second of every minute of every day.
I still think Hannah will knock at the door or she’ll wake me up and say ‘mum get up, that was a nightmare’.
I don’t want to cling onto him/her/they or any form of God when I don’t see any point in it.
I don’t want to pray when my heart is not in it.
I have been told I’ll go to hell. My answer to that is: I'm living in one.
