Hope: Part I

With the friendly pious manner crumpled up and thrown in a corner, my perception of his nobility changed in a manner consistent with my belief - All animals know fear, pain and anger. No amount of religion can or should take away our animalistic instincts. Survival of our kind, or as a matter of fact of any kind depends on what we have. And again, apparently evolution favors emotions, given that we are latest on a chain. Latest, sure. Most evolved?

His voice sharpened, that selfless attitude of his blaring in the steps pacing back and forth behind me. A metallic cling on my right side ended the annoying anxious taps; then again the annoyance which on any other good day would have brought forth a full blown criticism of his choice of attire and the elitist profession he sacrificed his rationality for, didn't even register in my mind. Distracted from the stomach turning aftermath of the most vicious of acts enacted by my sanguinary persona, our attention turned to the lustrous knife reddened with blood. His wooden paduka landed blowing dirt and dust off the floor longing for the warm caress of a broom, unconsciously forcing the knife to fly across as it vibrated like a tuning fork, raining the loosened blood drops down, solidifying the grip of the parasites onto their host. That crimson hued thick sludge, going down the straits fettered on either side by tiny silicate boulders, flowing to a dead end in the dystopian wasteland, like a helpless river hopelessly dashing across the desert, maddened by the knowledge of her impending death, longing in love and lust for her mate far away across the sand and the sun. What a waste!

God must be an artist to have beautified the human face by imparting the ability to skew it in certain manners to convey the deepest of thoughts and most hideous of emotions to the shamelessly wicked of our race. His expression changed to one of dread, anger and confusion as he knelt down beside the withering lilacs rooted in the dry earth of the gray pot mossed in patches; the glimmer of his eyes affixed onto the beaming iron gray streaked with the hue Ares painted myriad of battlefields shifting every moment, betraying his judgement of the situation. Of course, one cannot expect a priest to maintain a saintly demeanor to separate his actions from the sensations of his humane existence. No human can have the might to not be affected by the ways of this world, and Kalyug makes it all the more a godly undertaking. Yet I applaud his zeal to have chosen a path rarely travelled with the most genuine of dedications, I respect his will to uphold those principles even in the situations that tortured every single nerve of his spirit. My grip tightened around the wooden handle as my vision took a hold of his kneeling persona, filled with a calm contempt. I am not him, can never be him. I am merely a human. I wonder how could have us, poles apart in every sense of the phrase, become good friends?

My parents never gave a chance to the cynicism that broods in me. Society hadn't been theirs, yet their care for it and all its hypocrisy coursed so deeply through their throbbing veins that even after all the injustices inflicted upon them, they still held on to the societal ways like a helpless infant clinging desperately to its mother's belly. Their lives rested on the imposturous hopes of peace and grandeur which poison every soul with fear of being cast out; stomped upon for moving away from the established norm to a novel way of living. For them, the conception of a social order and laws was the paramount achievement of humanity - it led to the origination of a vain species glorified, superior in its own perception of the natural order.

And the insurmountable ego attached with this vanity had to be satisfied - creating of an artificial order under the illusion of dissociating themselves from the parent order, and ironically setting in a quest of truth riding on the observations made from their own artificial order. Maybe I am too harsh. Maybe it's not that ironic after all, given that all of us know deep in our hearts that we have failed miserably and at the core of all creation, all apparent order lies one primordial truth; a fact of observation, of maybe this is how we were programmed to build and store all our experiences, hence a summary of all that goes around whose existence we can justify or seek to justify - All actions have consequences. And the actions of an actor depend on its inherent traits and peculiarities - the singularity was unstable, boom, big bang. The surface of an ocean warms up and currents rise due to the inherent nature of Adam's ale to maintain a thermodynamic equilibrium. A sex addict will seek sexual relationships with others even though he has made a commitment of love for him sexual pleasure has not entangled itself in the cobweb of love. (Continued)