THE OLD GODS AND THE NEW

I always compared Christianity to android. It seems to have been designed as an ideal conquering religion, with great adaptations and regional improvisations ranging from Christmas, conveniently placed on the date of the pagan festival of sol invictus, to margam kali which is essentially a modified version of the Hindu Thiruvathira. Making it very similar to the user friendly android with a high marketing value.

Islam, on the other hand is complicated. Though it is strikingly similar to Christianity, their concept of a god who has no form though is a spiritually beautiful idea, is not really easily understood by everyone, especially the children sent to “learn religion” before they learn the alphabet.

I never considered Hinduism a religion. It’s a culture, a way of life. Time has come that we stop referring to the Ramayana and Mahabharata as the holy books of Hindus. The very word Hindu means one who believes in the Vedas. The Vedas and the Upanishads, once read through their literal meaning will reveal themselves as textbooks of science and philosophy.  And as for Ramayana and Mahabharata, they are stories, and absolutely amazing ones. Probably the greatest stories ever written by man. Action, love, fiction and philosophy brilliantly architecture into literary masterpieces.

Hinduism also has the concept of the Param Purush, the ultimate god Which forms a part of all living creatures. This beautiful view of Thatvam Asi, the god within was too complicated and thus, there had to be simpler ways for commoners to worship a superior power. So we considered everything as god. Fire, water, sky, the hills, celestial bodies and even time. New gods were added in the course of time, and old ones forgotten. Some gods were indigenous and some more popular. Lord Ayyappa, whose best friend was a Muslim definitely is from a time after the Muslims came to India. But what we fail to see is a message of secularism hidden there. It does not matter which god we worship, what matters is that we all nurture the humility to accept the presence of a superior power.

ye yathā māṁ prapadyante, tāṁs tathaiva bhajāmy aham, mama vartmānuvartante, manuṣyāḥ pārtha sarvaśaḥ

“Whosoever comes to me in whatsoever form, I reach them, All men are struggling through ways that in the end leads to me.” 

WAIT

I could hear the wind. My brain was still pondering over the very memories I was dying to forget. Sometimes it comes to a standstill. My mind would go blank. The wind and the voices in my head would stop whispering. Then I'd hear the silence. The silence that reminded me of how alone I really was. The whole world was sleeping and I just laid there, waiting for my tired body to give in. Waiting for some sleep.

Pain makes sense. It always had a reason. And it motivates us to try and change things. But insomnia is strange. I am tired and all I want is to sleep. My eyelids were so heavy but my thoughts still outweighed them. Sleep was beautiful. There would be no more pain, and there would be dreams, instead of thoughts. The worst of nightmares would be better than my current reality. It is how we could experience death while we breathed.

The worst part of not being able to sleep is that you can’t wake up. You are always walking that fine line between being awake and asleep. I have started to hate the person I see in the mirror every day. Broken, tired and lost. Fooling the world everyday with his faked smile, using instagram stories to hide his real one.

I waited for a blackout. I get one every two days for a couple of hours. That has now become my sleep. I waited my brain to take over the tired body and disturbed mind. I waited for my temporary death. And I waited for my resurrection.

What if the purpose of life was death?

I breathed in the cold wind. I was high, only literally. I stood above the old building, with only the stars that lit up the moonless sky above me. I could see buildings, traffic, and people beneath . The city never sleeps; I was not the only insomniac.
The terrace was full of pipes and debris. One wrong step and I’ll be at gravity’s mercy. Then, it hit me. What if it’s not the wrong step? What if it’s the right one? Maybe that’s what the universe wants for me. Maybe that’s why life gave me all this happiness to simply take it all away one day, gave me pain that I can’t take, gave me problems no one can solve. It might as well be all part of the plan.
Everyone is dying, some faster than the other. What if life is prompting us to what it means for all of us? What if the whole purpose of life is to stop living? Maybe something unknown and beautiful awaits us on the other side. Something above the fake morals and complications of life. Some place where we are above this chaos of social life. A place of freedom, beauty, simplicity, and peace.
Or maybe there’s nothing, which is not bad either. It would be great to stop feeling.  There would be no more pain. I would be free from duties, rules, expectations, and suffering. My memories wouldn’t haunt me anymore. My guilt won’t give me nightmares. My body will finally get the sleep its craving for. A long, quiet, and beautiful sleep.

THE CADAVER

I imagined death to be peaceful. Maybe if I was buried, or burnt, it would have been. But the guilt of not doing something good with my life made this decision for me. To do something with my death. But little did I know that death doesn’t take senses, it only took the response. The sights, sounds, smell, pain, everything was still there. But it was too late. They changed me into a mere model of human anatomy.  Lying in a hall naked was my biggest problem until the dissection started. Then the pain began. I was ripped one muscle at a time. Amidst the pain of my joints being separated one at a time, I could still hear the talks, the laughter and still see their curious eyes as they cut me open. The smell of formaline masked the smell of my own flesh rotting. They cut my heart off, but I had run out of tears to shed. I felt my memories go away part by part as they cut off my brain, piece by piece. And in the end, I didn’t feel the pain, I didn't feel guilt, nor sorrow. I didn't miss life. All I felt was contempt. This, is my salvation.