Killing the conscience...

Imagine you are waiting at a traffic signal on your vehicle. The signal shows red. You know that you have to wait till the signal turns green. But the road ahead is empty. And your mind starts oscillating - should you wait or should you go ahead? Fear of overstepping traffic rules scares you. Imagine at such a point that a car arrives behind you. The driver of the car starts sounding his horn. He wants you to not pay heed to the signal and go ahead. What do you do then? Do you start your vehicle and drive ahead or do you shout at the car driver for not respecting the traffic rules? 
If you do the first, you would have to ride the rest of your journey with guilt as your fellow passenger. If you do the second, you would end up hurting the car driver. Who knows what kind of a situation the car driver is in? He might be required to reach his destination really quick. What do you do?
You end up doing the only thing which seems right to you. You start your vehicle, move a bit so that the car driver rides ahead and wait till the signal turns green. And at such a point, as you wait for the green circle of light, you get stranded on a strange place - you get stranded on the middle of the road. 
When you think back as to why you ended up on the middle of the road, the answer appears pretty simple - you did not want to be a bad person. You wanted to respect the traffic rules and you also wanted to make peace with the car driver. But take a look at the result. 
What if you had not had a strong conscience? Would you have cared for the traffic rules? Or would you have given thought about the car driver's situation? You would have simply lashed out at him. 
Either way, the journey would have been a lot easier. 

If these are the complications that the conscience can create at a traffic signal, imagine the complications that arise in friendships and relationships. 
And things only get a lot worse when you are an humanist.
Being a believer in God makes life easy. If you commit a mistake, you have someone to pray to. If you hurt a person, you have someone to request for forgiveness. But if you are unable to believe in God, if humans are the only Gods you believe in, whom do you pray to?
Such a fear makes you want to stay as good a person as you can be. But at what cost?
Every time you refrain yourself from hurting another person, every time you suppress your anger, every time you try to remain a good person even when the odds are stacked against you, a part of you withers away in uncontrollable pain as another part feels good about itself, lauding its altruism.
Should a person continue being good if it comes at such a cost?
Ideally, yes. But it would make sense if others also tried being good. 
If the people around you do not try being so, injustice starts creeping in. How can you raise a sword against a person holding a machine gun?

At times, things reach a point where you want to pluck the conscience from inside, grab a strong rope and strangle it till it dies. Things would get a lot easier.
Why roam around carrying your conscience amidst a crowd that has consciously locked the conscience in a cupboard?
Why try being a good person in a society where being good causes nothing but hurt? 
The video below shows what happens when you try removing a barrier in order to make way for an ambulance. 

Why try being good when it causes so much hurt?

Can you keep your conscience and yourself happy at the same time? One has to give way to the other. So, which one would it be?

When I started typing this post, I had decided to end it with the previous question. But my mind seems to have undergone a change. After watching the above video again.

Yes. Being good hurts. But if I decided against it, I would have nothing to believe in. Not even humanity. Which scares me.
I do not want to go back to worshiping a higher power though it would make my life easier. 
I choose pain instead. I choose humans.
How bad a situation can being good get me in?
Extreme hurt and death is a possibility. Or worse, another post like this.
Frankly, I am scared only of the latter.

When God became Man!

This post is a continuation of sorts to an earlier post of mine - If not for you, my man...

I had read only three chapters of 'Playing it my way' when I had typed the aforementioned post. I had lashed out at the media for calling 'Playing it my way' a disappointment and stating that the book provided little insights into the great little man. I still do stand by my statement that the media allowed very little privacy to a man who provided not just hope but a reason to unite and celebrate for the millions of this country. 

But having finished 'Playing it my way', I have sought to a totally different perspective from my earlier childish one of trying to idolize and immortalize SACHIN RAMESH TENDULKAR to the heights of an eternal being - or in simpler terms, God.

****

When I came across the part where Sachin had described how he, in his childhood, had kept circling his friends with his new bicycle to evoke a bit of jealousy and to show off his riding skills, I was shocked a bit. 

More so was the shock when I came across how Sachin (with Ganguly as his batting partner), after having faced majority of Andrew Flintoff's deliveries in a test match had mocked at Ganguly who had stated in the dressing room that they had handled Flintoff well with his statement - "Humne jhela? Saale maine jhela hain!" (We handled? It was me who had handled alone!)

I had never thought that Sachin could dispense with his humility. Could he also be a guy who would occasionally have fun at others' expense?

When I came across how he had cried profusely after having missed his first test century in the 1990 tour of New Zealand, I paused for a moment. Why did it matter so much when he had already contributed 88 runs to the team score, I thought. Did the century, perhaps, matter to him so much?

Similar was the case when an entire chapter had been devoted to his recollection of how much he had struggled for the 100th hundred. He had described in length about the mental pressures he had gone through the twelve months he had gone century-less. But did one more hundred matter? After all, 99 hundreds in itself is a remarkable feat. So why burden oneself so much for one more? 

And all these questions pointed to only one direction that I had never ever given a single thought of during my following of his entire career - Did Sachin, after all, play only for the centuries?

"The world cup was promising to be the biggest tournament of my life. It was the one title that had eluded me..." - As I read this statement, I was shocked again. 

'..one title that had eluded me...'? Didn't the world cup belong to the entire nation? 

Even after I completed the book, these questions still kept haunting me. I was honestly rattled by the questions and I couldn't bring about myself for some time as I kept staring at the huge blow-up of Sachin that adorned my bedroom wall. 

A man I had worshiped without an iota of doubt lay caught amidst a web of questions resulting from the 450 pages of his book.

An entire day passed with these thoughts and the next day, I decided not to spend anymore time giving thought to the questions. 

I had been blown away by Interstellar which I had watched the earlier week and had started reading about time travel, retrocausality, bad wolf resolution etc., and had taken an immense liking to the 'Parallel Universes resolution' theory. I had tried really hard to form a short story trying to bring together 'Hitler's Paradox' and the theory of parallel universes with an idea of making Hitler's character travel back in past from one universe to kill his existing counterpart in another universe. The idea had seemed to be very shallow and I had given up on it taking in my hand 'Playing it my way'.

But now having completed the book, I went back to the idea of the story. As I tried to imagine a common man as the protagonist,  trying to develop a back story for him, it hit me.

During the process of developing the back story, I had been trying to make the protagonist a man with noble intentions but also one suffering from a few drawbacks. It was owing to my firm belief that no character in a story could be completely rid of follies/guilty pleasures/ambitions as it would make him a hero, which I needed not.

And this conscious effort to bring in a few drawbacks in my protagonist had subconsciously led my thought process to Sachin. 

I stared from my seat on the floor at the blow-up of Sachin again. And I couldn't help smiling.

What a fool I had been?

I had expected Sachin to be a being free from the common trivialities of human life. I had expected Sachin to be a being so noble that he would have had to force himself extensively to punish a ball by hitting it harshly.

But I had been wrong. 

Sachin had been a being as simple as you and me. He had had his share of ambitions and desires. He had had his share of shortcomings. And that is the exact reason why he had been pushed to a status so high by the common mass. 

(By the way, I guess a filmmaker crying for not winning an award he deserved for a very sincere film of his or an artist crying for having spoilt a piece of art with one wrong stroke of his brush cannot be deemed to be wrong or selfish. So why accuse Sachin, an artist in his own right, for trying to have his fair share of achievements and accolades?)

An eternal being going around performing heroic deeds is not a significant achievement. But imagine a mere mortal doing the same trying to set aside his true feelings in the pursuit of achieving a reality as close to the one his worshipers want/expect out of him.

I had so long been admiring and adoring a mere mortal who had been trying to brave every single obstacle that had presented itself in his path and not an eternal being who had pushed them away easily. I had so long been admiring and adoring a mere mortal who had been trying to achieve the impossible feat of bringing an entire country to standstill with the rise of his bat and not an eternal being who had done it with a swish of his wand.

This thought, ever since it took birth in my head, has left me overwhelmed with happiness and I feel proud - immensely proud - for having been an ardent follower of a mere mortal and not an eternal being for all these years.

A God under the umbrella!

He held his grandmother’s hand firmly and slowly led her across the crowd that seemed to be growing minute by minute. He had never seen such a crowd ever before in his 20 years of occasional visits to the market place. When he had started from his home, his mother had warned him that the market place would be crowded and he himself had realized it, that day being ‘Vinayagar Chaturthi’ – The festival of Lord Ganapathi/Ganesh.  But the crowd in the midst of which he was standing made him feel dizzy.

“That one… That one looks good. The trunk is also curved to the right” suddenly shouted his grandmother from behind him. He looked in the direction she pointed. Seated in large numbers were clay statuettes of Lord Ganesh with their crowns painted in a golden colour. Amidst all the shops that sold either plain clay statuettes or fully painted ones, this shop with the ‘painted crown’ Ganesh statuettes looked teasing and rightfully was over-crowded.

“It looks too crowded. Let’s buy the Ganesh statuette there” he said to his grandmother pointing at a shop that had only 3 customers standing by it. But his grandmother wouldn’t agree. The Ganesh there had his trunk curved to the left.

“Is the orientation of his curve so important?” he asked his grandmother, frustrated by her adamant nature.

“You said you would not let your rational beliefs out and that is why I allowed you to accompany me. Now, either listen to me or leave. I will wait here till the crowd at that shop departs and come home with the proper statuette” she said and turned her face away. He knew that it would not bear any fruit arguing with her and so he tightened his grip and led her towards the shop she had pointed at.

“How much is that one?” he asked the shopkeeper, pointing to a statuette his grandmother had chosen after about 10 minutes of careful consideration.

“100 rupees” said the shopkeeper and continued the argument that he had earlier started with another customer.

“Fine. Buy it.” said his grandmother, opening her purse. The grandson was shocked.

“Did you hear the rate he said?” he asked her. She nodded and extended him a 100 rupee note. The grandson kept staring at her without taking the money.

“Don’t you think it is too much for two days’ worship after which it is going to go in the well?” he asked her. “We should never bargain when it comes to God” she told him and pushed the 100 rupee note in his hand. The grandson was not satisfied.

“Would you give it for 80 rupees?” he asked the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper gave him a nasty look and told him outright that the cost was non-negotiable.

“Why are you bargaining? I told you to pay him the 100 rupees. Don’t show your miserliness here. Pay the shopkeeper 100 rupees.” His grandmother shouted at him. The grandson knew that it was useless arguing either with the shopkeeper or with his grandmother and handing the shopkeeper the money, he lifted the statuette and placed it carefully in the coir-basket his grandmother had brought.

“So, what remains?” he asked his grandmother as they managed to come out of the extremely over-crowded market place with great difficulty.

“Just the umbrella” said the grandmother. The grandson never understood the concept behind buying a tiny umbrella for the Ganesh statuette. His grandmother’s explanations for the umbrella had never convinced him but he knew better not to start another argument and so looked around. A small boy standing with a long bamboo stick, colorful umbrellas pointing out from it in all the directions, caught his eye.

“Let’s buy an umbrella from that boy” he said, pulling her towards the small boy’s direction. As they reached him, the grandson was surprised to see how small the boy was. He would have been probably 6 or 7 years old. He was finding it very hard to keep the bamboo stick still. It definitely would have weighed more than the small boy.

“Sir.. Sir.. Please buy an umbrella sir. Please sir!” the boy pleaded as soon as he saw the grandson. The grandson got down on his knees and smiling at the boy, asked him the cost of an umbrella. 20 rupees was its cost.

“20 rupees?! What is so special in that umbrella that it costs 20 rupees?” shouted the grandmother from behind.

As the grandson turned towards her to reply, a man clad in white shirt and dhoti holding his daughter’s hand walked towards them.

“How much for an umbrella?” he asked in an ordering tone to the boy. “20 rupees sir” said the boy feebly.

The man took out a 20 rupee note from his pocket and gave it to his daughter to hand it over to the boy. The daughter rushed forward to hand the boy the money.

“Careful Divya! Careful! Don’t touch his hand. Just place the 20 rupee note and get the umbrella.” he cautioned his daughter. “We are very orthodox. That is why I insisted.” The man elaborated to the grandmother, smiling a sheepish smile.  

The grandson was angered very much by the man’s statement. Though he was a Brahmin himself, he hated several superstitions and customs that the Brahmins practised – one such, being the custom that they would not touch a person of a lower caste and if the contact happened even accidentally, they would take a bath to wash themselves of the sins of the person who had touched them and it was this custom that the man was trying to pertain to with the small boy right then.

Infuriated, the grandson got up.

“Even the umbrella was touched by the boy. Be sure to wash your clay idol before placing the umbrella alongside it. Otherwise your God might become a sinful one!” said the grandson, looking directly at the man’s eyes.

The man was taken aback. The grandmother was also shocked. Both the small boy and the man’s daughter stood there confused at what was happening. The grandson expected the man to retort back. Instead, he grabbed his daughter with the 20 rupee note she was still holding and walked away.

“Sir.. Sir.. Please buy it sir. Please sir!” the boy shouted out to the man. But he was gone. The boy’s face had become glum and he looked at the grandson with his tiny helpless eyes.

The grandson had not expected that outcome for his statement. He again got down on his knees and told the boy that he would compensate for the loss he had caused.

“What are you doing? In addition to your foolish statement, are you going to buy two umbrellas now? Brilliant!” the grandmother smirked. But the grandson knew that he had to pay for his mistake and taking out his wallet, he handed the boy a 50 rupee note. The boy’s glum face lightened up. He handed the grandson two umbrellas.

As the grandson stood up with the umbrellas and turned to walk away, the boy tugged at his pant. When the grandson looked down, he saw the boy extending a 10 rupee note. He was overwhelmed and asked the boy to keep it. But the boy refused and asked him to take the money. The grandson ruffled the boy’s hair and accepted it.

                                                                            ****

Ever since he had got home, the grandson felt disturbed for some reason. He had been thinking for a long time as to what the reason could be but he had not been able to deduce it.

He kept staring at the fan that was rotating above for some time when he heard his mom calling him to the pooja room. The pooja for the Ganesh statuette was about to start. His mom handed him the bell and asking him to ring it, she started rotating the aarti-lamp before the statuette. And as the grandson stood there alongside his grandmother, shaking the bell looking at the aarti shown to the lifeless clay statuette by his mother, it hit him.

After the pooja got over, he pocketed a few sweets that his mom had prepared for the occasion and telling his mom that he had to meet a friend, he went out. About ten minutes later, he stood before the market place staring at the small boy who was standing quite some distance away, shouting his lungs out to sell the umbrellas.

The grandson walked towards him. The boy’s face brightened on seeing the grandson. The grandson smiled and got down on his knees. He asked the boy to hand him the bamboo stick. 

The boy was puzzled. The grandson insisted and the boy handed him the bamboo stick.

Holding the stick firmly in one hand, the grandson pulled the boy closer and hugged him tightly. 

The boy did not understand the grandson’s actions but he felt a warmth in the hug he had never felt before and so he let the grandson take control.

After the hug that lasted for more than a couple of minutes, the grandson let go of the boy. The boy let out a mild chuckle that brimmed with shyness. The grandson gave him back the bamboo stick and handed him a 100 rupee note.

The boy looked at the rupee note in awe.  Mixing his amazement with a tinge of confusion, he stared at the grandson.

“Do not worry. I am not giving you this for free. Give me 5 umbrellas.” said the grandson.

“Didn’t you already buy 2?” asked the little boy.

The grandson nodded but still held out the 100 rupee note. The boy took it from him and slowly removing 5 umbrellas from the stick, he gave them to him.

The grandson stood up and asked him if he had an elastic band. The boy gave him one. He removed the handle of one of the umbrellas and folding the small wooden handles of the rest, he tied the five umbrellas together with the removed handle supporting the entire group.

He took it and slightly lowering the bamboo stick, he placed it on the top, inserting the handle inside the top hole of the bamboo stick. As he pushed the stick back to the position the boy was holding, a shadow of a large umbrella fell on the ground at the spot where the boy was standing.

The boy's face glowed as the shadow covered his face. 

The grandson got down on his knees and handed the boy the sweets he had brought with him. As the boy happily munched at them, the grandson asked the boy his name.

The reply the boy gave made the grandson let out a hearty laugh. The boy asked him why he had laughed. The grandson told him that it was nothing and hugged the boy again.

The boy's name was Ganapathi.

ENTROPY/CHAOS

(Order - Act I)

The child/WIND

Sitting down on the floor

Fresh and filled with energy, as the clock struck six,

Not a trace of exhaustion from the tedious school hours visible

The 7 year old poured out the contents -

Building blocks they were, from the pouch..

Slowly segregating the smaller and the larger pieces

She started joining them..

As the pieces attached themselves

Suddenly her mind wavered

Like a wind wandering undecided

And she removed the attached pieces

Only to join them differently

Stacking them one above the other in an order 

Slowly building her own home!

The woman/WATER

As she finished folding the dresses

That had till then been tortured by the sun's heat

She entered the kitchen

Her mind calculating the hours left for the day

And the tasks to be completed..

Being a skilled one at household chores

Taught by 8 years of marriage

Her thoughts seemed clear

Clearer than the undisturbed lake..

Happy with herself, she opened the tap

And scrubbing the utensils one by one 

She started washing them, delighted 

Her plans were getting executed one by one as usual!

The ant/EARTH

Having finished feasting on the cockroach

That was dead and turned upright

The colony started making its way

Toward the ant-hill that lay at the corner of the garden..

Marching slowly forward

One behind the other

Like a well-organized republic day parade

Little doubt in why they were called super-organisms

Having learned to share their labors among themselves

The most planned of all species, the ants..

9 in number they were

And they covered every inch, not fumbling but solid and stable

As solid as the ground below them

To keep marching towards the ant-hill

In a straight line, completely ordered!

The man/FIRE

Getting down from the bus

He walked slowly towards his home

His lunch-bag in one hand, umbrella in the other

And the executive-bag on his shoulder..

A few meters away, hiding behind an abandoned old van

Stood the villain, holding a knife in his hand

The face of his victim flashing again on his mind

Having seen the man walking on the road, gotten down from the bus

The hatred in his heart started burning

Like the fire that was set to the garbage heap at a corner

Which was the only source that lit up the street..

He had been waiting for this, 10 long months

Since he had been sent to prison

By that very same man walking towards him

Not accepting a bribe offered by this villain

And showing the law his good side

Making the villain bad and his family detested..

And now was his chance

In that empty street, lit only by a single flame

And as he saw the man at a few feet's distance

He jumped out of his hiding place

And held out the knife towards the man

Waiting to execute his well laid out plan!

(Order - Act II)

God/SKY

Waving his hand, God cleared the sky

That was being filled with large black rain clouds

Looking below at the world, he smirked

Fully filled with buildings

It seemed to have adopted its own design and order

Unlike the one that God had designed..

'What have they done?' he asked his attendant

'Probably the result of your own statement' the attendant replied

And God looked at him, his eyebrows raised

"I am God almighty. Be fruitful and multiply.

A nation and a company of nations shall come of thee." the attendant quoted

Verse number 11 from Genesis of the Bible..

The number 11 caught God's attention and he laughed

'They have created a lot of fables with this one - 11' he said

And the attendant agreed

'In 11, the 1 stands for the greater force, the Lord,

And the sum, 2, suggests the duality or the balance quotient of the Lord

- This is how Hinduism signifies it' the attendant completed..

The God remained silent 

Anger building up within him

Like the clouds that were building up ready to burst

'How dare they set me a balance quotient?

These humans set themselves order and balance

And they now are trying to include me in this petty game of theirs.

I will show them what imbalance and chaos and disorder is!'

He said and stared angrily at the world below him!

(Disorder - an act within the 'Order' act II)

Life/ENTROPY

The child placed the last block at the top

The woman washed her last plate, waiting to add it to the shelf

The ants were nearing the ant-hill, their line undisturbed

The man stood shocked at the sight before him

The villain was readying his mind to plunge the knife

God was waiting to unleash his anger upon the ordered world

And in a second it all happened!

(Disorder - Act I)

A very strong wind blew its way through the window

And the 'building-block' home came falling down..

Tears flowing out of her little eyes at the fallen home

The girl rushed towards her mom at the kitchen

Screaming and crying, surprising her mom

Who having washed the last plate, rotated the tap to close it

During which it broke out loose, water spraying and splashing all around..

Shocked, the mom tried filling the hole with her hand

During which the water sprayed in an inclined angle

Falling out the window, over the colony of ants..

The line shattered as the huge droplets started falling like atomic bombs

And the ants scattered all around, a few rushing toward the ant-hill..

As the fastest ant reached the ant-hill, the ground started shaking

And the mom in the kitchen, trying to stop the water flowing

While consoling her crying daughter, realized it too..

She grabbed her daughter and leaving the kitchen, 

She hurried towards the door

As she crossed the hall, she saw their family photo-frame fallen down

And as she glanced at it for a moment while hurrying out,

She wondered where her husband was..

(Disorder - Act II)

The man, as he stared at the knife held before him

Felt the ground trembling beneath his feet..

As he looked below, the villain standing before him also bent

And in that fraction, the man pounced on the villain

Hitting him with the umbrella

Unexpected by the villain, making the knife slip from his hand..

The villain hit him back and as the man fell back

The villain bent down to pick the knife which kicked by the man

Went flying far from his reach..

As the villain rushed forward, landed a blow on his face

The umbrella being the culprit

And the man jumped to the ground

Which was still shaking, to pick the knife..

And as he grabbed it, the villain had stood up again

Seeing the knife in the man's hand

He was hesitant for a moment..

They stood looking at each other

The villain now weaponless and the man holding the knife

When the fire that was burning went off.. 

Knowing this was his chance, the villain jumped at him

Only to feel steel piercing his skin

And as the pain hit his brain, he let out a scream

A scream that seemed a mere whisper

Before the thunder that roared that moment..

As the villain slowly fell down, the man 

Shocked at what he had done, looked around

Darkness was what he saw, not a single human

And pulling out the knife, the man started running towards his home

His mind, blank, and his feet trembling along with the ground..

(Disorder - Act III)

From the end of the street, he had seen the collapsed buildings

A result of the quake that had shaken the ground

Increasing in its magnitude with every step he had run towards his home..

And as he reached his home

A heavy downpour had started..

The rain slapped over his face, flowing down with his tears

As he saw his home that had collapsed

But it was not the pile of fallen bricks he cared about..

He pushed open the gate

And entered in when struck a lightning

Showing him the two things he loved the most in the world

Standing in his garden, the daughter and the mother holding hands

And he let out a scream of relief..

Hearing which, the women rushed towards him 

And he hugged them like he had never before

And there, before the collapsed home, stood united a family..

(Order - Act III)

A week later, as the family woke up 

From a small tent in the refugee camp 

The speakers at the camp blared

'Our world has faced one of its worst disasters in the human history.

It is going to take us very long to return to our normal lives.

But never lose hope. We, the surviving leaders of all the nations have

Come together and have devised a well thought-out plan.

Let this be the beginning of a more united world.' the voice ended

And the family held each other closely, their hope rekindled..

'A plan again? Don't the humans ever realize their mistakes?

When would they possibly understand

That order and balance are mere illusions?'

God wondered out loud to his attendant..

'They would never.' the attendant replied

God remained silent..

'They would never because they are humans'

The attendant emphasized this time

And God looked at him confused

'Then, how is it that they overcome every obstacle

Only to appear stronger than before every time?'

He asked out loud..

And the attendant smiled

He knew the answer but he knew that it might anger God

And so letting God ponder over it in length

The attendant kept the answer to himself.

Love!

Becoming GOD!

I might be wrong but I generally see more believers trying to persuade atheists rationalists to start worshiping God than we rationalists who try to explain evolution and big-bang to believers.

Yesterday I watched a movie - Oh my God!
One of my classmates had repeatedly been forcing me to watch it saying that the movie would make a believer out of me. When my roommate saw the movie in my 'Hindi movies' collection, he too said the same thing. And so I decided to watch it out of the hope that it might really make a believer out of me.

There is a general notion that rationalists look down upon believers and pity them. I don't know about other rationalists but I seriously envy people who have faith. It is much easier to believe in a higher power and tie up all the happenings to him/her. When life is good, it increases your faith in the higher power and when things go bad, you have someone to blame upon. But for a person like me, when life is great, I start to doubt if I really deserve such goodness and when things go bad, all the blame falls upon my head. Who said being a rationalist makes a person arrogant or egoistic?
It just makes him a human.

Anyways, coming back to the movie, as it proceeded towards the end it only made my rationalism even more stronger instead of making me a believer. It just gave me one more word to substitute atheist - humanist. The movie was trying to drive home the message as to treat every single person as God instead of searching for the spiritual element in temples and mosques and churches. It was the same thing I had believed in ever since I became a rationalist.

But for some reason, the movie started a small battle inside my head last night and today, as I woke up I could still find that the battle hadn't ceased. A slow and relaxed walk around my college campus with soothing Rahman music is the treatment I prescribe myself whenever I find myself in such situations and I did the same thing today, with the extra step of hanging my camera around my neck just in case.

And as I slowly walked down from my hostel along our avenue, my mind too started walking down the calmer lane. As I crossed our college library, I stopped. A bunch of small violet flowers (I am very weak in botany!) in the garden of our library had caught my eye. I sat down on the ground and observed them closely. As I was held captive by their beauty, my hand unconsciously went towards my camera. I clicked the 'on' button and slightly adjusting the 'focus' option, I held it ready to capture the beauty of the flowers. And it was then that something happened.

An inexplicable feeling took over my mind and though I sat on the ground, I felt myself soaring high in the sky. That beautiful moment I had witnessed through my camera lens made me rise above all the mundane routines of this life and petty wars of this world and for a moment, I felt like I was God!
Only just for a moment.

And as all the random and useless thoughts started filling my head again, I came back. I lowered my camera. I did not want to record the beauty of the flowers on my camera. I wanted the moment to be more personal and so I got up and started walking. But after walking some distance, I couldn't control myself and I went back to capture those beautiful violet flowers on my camera. As I kept looking at the photograph I had taken, on my camera screen, a question hit my head.

When such beauty could exist in our world why couldn't a God, perhaps?!

I still haven't answered it.