abstract, books, dreams, God, life, Prose

Who is the strongest God?

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Who is the strongest God?

If the Gods of various religions would fight a war, who will win?

 

As a child, who grew up watching WWE and action cartoons, I asked myself this question.

Knowing this was very important, for my parents told me that as a good child I should pray to God. The trouble was, in Hinduism, there are 330 million Gods. I, as a naïve child, wanted to pray only to the strongest one and for obvious reasons too.  It was a different story that I could not find an answer back then

Today, at the age of 28, I am trying to find an answer for that question from my past.

Since my childhood, mythology has been one of my favourite genres of stories. As a kid, I still remember pretending to be the giant Ghatotkach, burning enemy armies by the fire emanating from his mouth and enacting out battle scenes from the television show based on the epic Mahabharata. This love for mythology inadvertently made me aware about the Hindu religion too. It made me go beyond the regular sources of knowledge which I had as a child and I turned to reading at a relatively young age. I also found out that History was also something that attracted me, the charm of stories, real men, great men doing great deeds; deeds which were unfathomable till that point in time, became thrilling stories for me.

As I read more, I was curious to read about other religions too. I claim to be no expert at any of the religious scriptures but then again I have felt that knowing everything leaves very little to look forward to in life.  I ended up reading about the origin and spread of various major religions. For some I read more than the others, mostly because I was able to get my hands on that material easily. And while countless versions have been essayed before in various forms about how all religions are equal or how they are not I felt this urge to write my own version. Because according to me, every person has a unique version of religion. A theme that is central to this article and my line of thoughts.

My views started forming by observing Gods’ creations. I say Gods’ and not God’s to represent Gods of various religions. All the life forms, plants, animals, aquatic life, microorganisms and even the molecules and atoms were identical. So we have to at least applaud our Gods for being able to reach a unanimous decision about the formation of this universe and the laws which govern it. There was a lot of similarity, considering the number of creators we had to credit for. This lead to the next logical point that in this world, we have identical life forms but a lot of diversity, especially in humans. While we all have similar anatomy across the globe, the similarity ends just there.

So why did it happen? A scenario, where our Gods created us as equals and yet we have so much diversity. The answer is pretty simple, we became who we chose to become. Human lives are the greatest examples of the choices. The choices we make on a daily basis, makes us who we are. These choices define us in the fields of our education, profession, morals, ambitions, perseverance, health, society and nations. Any condition we are in, in any of the above mentioned aspects, is because of the choices we have made. The conditions haven’t always been favourable, no qualms about it, but then there have been those who have accepted it and there are those who have changed themselves or the conditions to survive. Wait! This sounds like evolution-survival of the fittest. And why wouldn’t it?  After all haven’t our religions survived the times while some have become extinct?

The key to survival is in the actions or rather the choices that culminate into these actions. While we have all become aware about selecting the correct field of education, fitness regimes and diet plans, we never for once question our choice of religion. Let us ask this question to ourselves now, “Am I following the right religion?”  or “Is this the right religion for me?” If you are any bit similar to me, I know you will find difficulty answering this question, not out lack of faith but due to lack of strong reasons to follow it. For me, life’s purpose has been to be happy for the longest time possible. So I decided that the strongest God will have a religion with the most number of happy people and the least number of those besieged by sorrows. As you would have already realized by now, I could not find a single such religion.

This again brought me to a point that we decide our fates by the choices we make. Religions were basically created and spread to transcend human lives. However, what I also realised was that almost all religions gave tenets for the followers which were essentially nothing else but what could be termed as the good choices! All religions are basically preaching good choices. Sadly, while we have evolved in almost all aspects of life, these tenets haven’t evolved enough along with the time. The reasons are plenty and talking about that would be digressing.

So in the end, what I realised was, Gods created all of us as equals and the religions are basically preaching us to make good choices. It seems quite strange then when we see so much hatred amongst people following different religions because if you see from my vantage point, it is a situation where the fight is not about what is right or wrong but more about who is right and who is not? When I ask us to ponder over the point of evolution of religion by changing or adding a tenet with these times I suggest adding a tenet for respecting good choices over religious divides.

Maybe there will be a new order in the future where good choices would matter the most and a time, when we would fight for good choices and not just for the religions in name. Maybe that will be the new way to transcend our lives and meet our creator.

And for those of you who are still trying to find out about who is the strongest God amongst all the Gods, here is my answer:

 

Surrounded by the sorrows,

I worried about the morrow.

To my creator I begged for strength,

For to win my battles, I had to go to great lengths.

I waited for my arms to bulge with power,

Instead I heard a voice from the high tower.

“Calm your heart, my child and ignore the noise,

Your strength lies in hearing my voice and making the right choice.”

 -Dharmesh J.

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abstract, dreams, God, life, poem, Poetry

Attraction

She has been with me since the day I was born,

Our attraction over the years has only grown.

It is in her arms that I will always fall,

She kept me grounded when I grew tall.

While life’s tough lessons made my logic sound,

She embraced me adding value to my life like some extra pounds.

With her whims she makes the seas swoon,

With her winks, she seduces the moon.

Do not doubt my intentions because of levity,

I am overwhelmed and thus this brevity.

And I have seen failures of the best of the men’s integrity,

You are my one true anchor binding me to this world, my dear gravity!

Image : https://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.photoshopcreative.co.uk%2Fusers%2F654%2Fthm1024%2Fattraction72dpi_wlogo.jpg&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.photoshopcreative.co.uk%2Fuser%2FAlan_Tye&docid=CJYcKYxp9wxu2M&tbnid=8qUzhcfeCwAM_M%3A&w=1024&h=768&bih=568&biw=360&ved=0ahUKEwiumYLOiqbPAhUSS48KHULIB_IQMwgfKAAwAA&iact=mrc&uact=8

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abstract, dreams, life, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

The Warrior

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It wasn’t just a good bye,
But a picture framed in his eyes.

Thriving between the Earth and the skies,
He waited to be unbound from the truth and the lies.

While blood dripped down the sword out of its sheath,
His vision grew blurry and memories cleaner with every passing breath.

He did not fight to defeat a vicious foe,
But picked up arms against the mightiest in answer to the pleas by those eyes like doe.

At his feet was a dead bull and also to him clung a child,
“You are my hero” said the sorrow and fear filled voice mild.

The old man smiled and said “No, you are mine”
All the while resisting the urge to take rest by laying supine.

He stroked the child’s cheek with his hands rough,
You made me realize, everyone of us can be tough.

Today I see that strength is not in the hands that hold spears and shields,

But it is in the heart which to injustice never yields. 

And while songs will be sung for the heroes who died in wars internecine,
I die a warrior, saving the innocent and serving humanity as a medicine.

Image source: https://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia.licdn.com%2Fmpr%2Fmpr%2FAAEAAQAAAAAAAAJzAAAAJDdjOGIyNTdiLTQ2YzAtNDVhYy05NGNlLWRkZWE5YTIwN2ZmMA.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.linkedin.com%2Fpulse%2Fwarrior-jody-sigmund&docid=WH52XHKv_KKhLM&tbnid=fceH_xLO9p0faM%3A&w=698&h=400&bih=623&biw=1366&ved=0ahUKEwim9Mv7wvvOAhXKMY8KHZUlAh0QMwg3KAQwBA&iact=mrc&uact=8

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abstract, dreams, life, poem, Poetry

I wonder


Good is not better,

Better is not the best.

The best scares the ordinary already under fetters,

And perfection seems akin to standing out from the rest.


A tree that sticks out, at the first instance, is cut,

The grass beneath our feet grows but stays in the same rut.
While men mock the mountain tops for being lonely,

The poets despise the plains for being too bland and comely.
For it is by the challenges that life throws,

It is the fight and not the results by  which we grow.
When we kill in the name of faith, against our gut,

Why be humans, when we tend, in the herds, to stay put?
Time and chance at times may make the ordinary look extraordinary,

But only those who seek light within are the real luminaries.
The world craves such torchbearers to clear our sights,

The hand which holds the candle, suffers the molten wax, such is the plight.
At such times one wonders about the deeds one could and should,

The heart says, being you is the only good.
In this moment, when my heart seems to be at piece,

My brain quips in with an advise apiece.
Good is no better,

Better is not the best.
And I wonder…….


Image source: https://goo.gl/images/9EFuAq

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abstract, dreams, life, poem, Poetry

Little men

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Just the other night, on my nape I felt a touch hot,
Turned around startled, for there was another person not.

On my face an icy breath like the storms did blow,
My eyes were glazed with the sudden flashing glow.

Like the dead did I lay in torpor,
Even these events failing to bring me out of stupor.

As I stood like lost on a highway, a kind soul offered me a lift,
Finally Iwas moved by the thought of that gift.

Amidst the chatter while I was losing my vision,
I tried to clear my mind searching for a reason.

Try hard I did, but in front of my eyes was an ever growing blot,
The last words in my ears were, “it was a blood clot.”

The painting on the wall said “most unhappiness is caused by little men chasing happiness”
Behind it, the wall crumbled because of a little patch of dampness.




Image source: https://www.google.co.in/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjfiuPkhavOAhWBtI8KHR0QClkQjB0IBg&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.aliexpress.com%2Fw%2Fwholesale-famous-paintings.html&psig=AFQjCNEw_tm-cBjPQw781MRx4PVT1zrmcA&ust=1470512863362491

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abstract, life, poem, Poetry

The Window

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Sitting on the chair by the window,
The boy looked out at the green meadows.

He saw the architects of the future play,
Building worlds in their minds, stronger than any made by brick or clay.

The ominous darkness, was their friend as they chased shadows,
They were the odd ones, when everyone complained, they thanked for the gifts life endows.

There were young men chasing their dreams,
As they raced life, powered by coffee sans sugar, milk and cream.

And those prematurely old men who waited to retire,
They seemed like dark sooted lamps without the fire.

On one hand the kids laughed and for each other they vouched,
While the grown-ups beneath their facade grouched.

The boy had a question he could no longer smother,
To the most trusted person he turned and called his mother.

If with education men are supposed to be learned like a sage,
Why do I see wisdom in the ones who do not age?

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Seasonal reasons

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Outside my town I take a stroll,
To a large oak trunk with a seat for me, for some which is just a hole.

Getting used to the woody smell, I take in the view,
Everything appears the same but then everything appears to be new!

Near a baby, a man, building walls to protect his heir sole,
Next to him a lady labors on the wall to bar every single sole.

I see a couple so lost into each other’s eyes, that the place, to them is a point moot,
On the side, sits a tired man out here in this place to escape the chimneys’ soot.

Tilling the ground is a boy, to match her sister’s beauty, he sows a flowers seeds,
And then there is a son, plucking flowers for the dead, forgotten in their hour of need.

I wonder why do we call it a change of seasons?
For nature follows a path constant but not man his reasons.

Look around you and you will see seasonal reasons,
Worry not till within you can find reasonable seasons.

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