Somebody in another forum posted this poem by Nazrul, the national poet of Bangladesh, who by the way was born into a Muslim family: Who are you?—A Parsee? A Jain? A Jew? A Santal, a Bheel or a Garo? A Confucian? A disciple of Charbak? Go on—tell me what else! Whosoever you are, my friend, Whatever holy books or scriptures You swallowed up or carry on your shoulder Or stuff your brains with—the Quran, the Puranas, the Vedas, the Bible, the Tripitaka, the Zend-Avesta, the Grantha Sahib—why do you waste your labor? Why inject all this into your brain? Why all this—like petty bargaining in a shop When the roads are adorned with blossoming flowers? Open your heart—within you lie All the scriptures, All the wisdom of all ages. Within you lie all the religions, All the prophets— your heart Is the universal temple Of all the deities.