A Letter to God

Dear God,
                 What's your favourite colour-orange,green or white? Just kidding, now don't take it on my bike's walltube when I'm running late for a date next time. So hope your doing good when this piece reaches your realm. If this theory of you existing in every creation of yours is true, this endeavor of mine is by you to you. So kindly overlook the political incorrectness of an insignificant alter ego of yours.
Do you fit into the conventions of relationships?In case you do, are you single, committed or discrete?Some sources say you're married, while some say you are a nomadic-bachelor with a penchant for spreading ways of life.
So how did you conjure creation, in a conventional manner had demigods for offspring with your Goddess and lineage descended on the face of earth or are you an alpha-hermaphrodite who initiated the not so subtle big bang?

All is good here,with India in cracking form in the ongoing world cup.Hope you follow cricket.Sorry for those random questions, I've always been curious about these things and have always meant to ask you,no offence.

I'm from this part of the world(look up on your GPS) where religions exceed the religious, but people take pride in the versatility of the pandemonium. Here god-men are quite popular and atheists are sensational too, with a few broken teeth.I guess, mine is the last generation that embraced a certain way of life founded on grandparental-folklores imparted at bedtime, This crop connected by Whatsapp is exactly not renown for their subservience, what with they questioning the propriety of every institution from the safe confines of Facebook walls or talk shows curated by pretentious celebrities.Never take these actors visiting religious places on thursdays seriously, for they've got no agenda with you apart from the superstition that you influence the fortune of their movies set to release the next day.

With regard to handling your nemeses too there is noticeable disparity-sometimes you've taken up to graphical showdowns employing forces of nature as props to intimidate and there were also times when you appeared multi-limbed( taking being multi-faceted literally) before naive men who used facial hair to intimidate.Not to forget,when you gracefully let them crucify you in public display, to only employ theatrics after a few days to sanctify "fridays" for eternity. Looks like you're quite the attention-seeker,going by all this.Aren't you?

Are you a person with a streamlined-jawline and beefed up physique or just another Morgan Freeman doppelganger,epitomizing content over form?  Have you been conveniently bestowed with a human form,befitting your stature as our creator, given that we are the single most influential species on Earth. Assuming that the creator looked like one among the dominant species, how did you look in the Mesozoic Era when the dinos ruled?

Coming to think of my metamorphosis from being an ardent devotee with unfloundering faith who turned into an indifferent atheist to finally become someone using you as an alibi to self-discovery, I've come a whole circle around you.Wouldn't know if the humbling influences that I encountered in the process were administered by you in the name of Karma or were personal.But one thing, I've started to feel your aura around like an anchor when the mind meanders these days.

Looks like there are legions of your followers who are so overwhelmed by blind faith to deconstruct the metaphors in folklore.They have contemporised currencies,clothing,drainage systems and what not according to changing times. But god tales remain inaccessibly archaic.
We have civil lawyers to end unresolved issues between estranged cousins over inherited property these days.But we still haven't had enough of the pep talk between a charioteer and his brother-in-law, on a battlefield.

I suppose we as a race like to romanticize the literature instead of the embedded metaphor that it encases.I would blame it on our yearning for a personal touch. For if I were such an anomaly and saw you as just a collage of metaphors,wouldn't be writing this.


Perplexed with Gratitude,

Me
 .

Just like Ginger

 It was at the juncture, where the enigma of the night was peeling away to make way for the spiritually percieved wee hours of just another working day, when I heard a feeble ruckus from beneath my bed. Ginger had given birth to a bunch of kittens, tucked under her forelimbs. She herself was barely a year old then.
She had come as a birthday gift to me and has been a cynosure of our eyes since then. My mom who had been eternally apprehensive about beings that commute in fours, started liking pets thanks to her.
Ginger's this typical pussycat-narcissistic with an elan and unpretentiously boisterous. Her daily routines consisted of steady hibernation punctuated by timely meals and occasional sporting inclinations. When we thought adulthood was a longshot then, she was handling maternity like a pro.

It was something to observe, the metamorphosis from a carefree young cat to a doting mother. They say that cats aren't expressive and our cannibalistic with their own offspring, but Ginger made our home resonate with the warmth of maternal love. Motherhood is indeed the most beautiful phase, seeing her nurture her creation made me respect her beyond just the adoration. It won't be far fledged to say that her maternity added a dimension to me-sensitivity.

Over the next few weeks, she allowed us to fraternize with those adorable little things, bundle of joy they were. She would just observe all of their shenanigans from a calling distance, like a watchful parent overseeing her toddler go about in a playground.
We are taught values right from a very young age so that we grow up to judge people with our self styled ethical reasoning.Our dogmatic lifestyle doesn't allow us to soak in the moment and just live every drop of it without feeling guilty.For we have an ambition to decorate, an ivory tower to build and more importantly a society to answer. Maybe ulterior motives and agendas constitute our sixth sense, our perceived cutting edge over animals.
While Mother nature keeps motherhood at bay from our species for a good quarter century at least, here she bestows the forbidden fruit on a furry-five sensed creature in her very first year of existence.Coming to think of the paradox, the time between being a naive kitten to mothering her own litter had just been a few months for Ginger.

All things good come to an end. We knew from the time Ginger came home that we couldn't keep have another cat as ours is a office-cum-residence. So we had started scouting for interested adopters to give away the kittens, for they were starting to get inseparable with every passing day. But we always had this unsettling thought in our heads as to how Ginger would handle the separation.It was that hideous act that had to be done, of separating the mother from her young ones.
We sent Ginger to a pet care for neutering and in the meanwhile gave away the kittens to a local pet hostel with a very heavy heart. But if that was heavy, what was to follow suit sent us on a one-way spiral of guilt.  As soon as Ginger came back from her surgery, she started searching for her little ones in every nook and corner of the house for the next few weeks. Ever heard a cat cry,well it's the most painful tug at even the most resolute of hearts.God forbid us for what we did to her.

But as time passed, her unrequited maternal instincts paved way for erstwhile playfulness to resurface with renewed vigour. She had completely gotten over the fact that her little ones and reproductive organs had been taken away from her,without consent at about the same time. As a spectator,that phase of her added another dimension to me-resilience.
I learnt a very important life lesson from her at that point, that it was important to move on.That came in handy when I was going through a painful break-up later in my life.
Now I can proudly admit that I have derived a lot of inspiration from my pet cat.So are they just five sensed, think twice.
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Vice of Exaggeration

 An exclamation mark is vestigial to a sentence that is exciting enough.The need to exaggerate is  a travesty of the communication process born out of insecurity of an underlying ulterior motive or from an hapless effort to oversell.It is seldom a secure person's trait,for it is hard to figure out what these semi-nude actors from PETA campaigns are trying to flaunt more-their love for animals or their photo shopped bodies.
Sometimes the most honest feelings are the ones that breach the adultery of diplomacy and sophistication.Like in the case of spirituality,where an overwhelmed devotee's salty tears with erect hair strands on his forearms are ode enough to the Almighty over and above the incinerated camphor or the calories sacrificed.
How is that, a dog despite not being one of us becomes family in a matter of minutes, while we feel awkward at our best friend's doorway in anticipation of parental contact. Sometimes the simplest acts are the most effective as they cater to a single agenda without meandering to impress around the fringes. This explains why a dog with its tongue and tail is way more effective than a bunch of emoticons, best seller quotes & superfluous articulation when it comes to fraternizing

There used to be a point where news channels had a fiduciary sheen around them, thanks to the objective coverage of news with copious grace. These days we have several channels hawking footage of the same shootout from different angles to flaunt an "Exclusive" tag across, thanks to the spirit of upmanship inundating them.
Same is the case with religions. A religion is a nomenclature that encapsulates a school of thought, designing a way of life in the process for like-minded people to identify and direct gratitude in a certain direction. So what should ideally have been privy like a PIN, gets fervently advocated in public domain like soft toys.The culprit being the propagandist spirit entangled in the rhetoric of one upmanship founded on the misplaced virtue of protecting one's faith from endangerment of a hostile takeover,elevating lynch mobs to a custodian angel pedestran

If that was the case with institutions that had a fiduciary role towards the society,there are a lot of instances were men are unabashedly pretentious in informal circles. For instance, it's become a ritual to smother one's face with a well made pastry on the occasion of his/her birthday as a display of bonhomie.
If facebook looks like just another social forum.Think twice,as yours might be a chronic case of cataract. Where to start about the pandemonium-the girl having 876 odd friends, the guy bartering "likes" candidly or the dork who checks in from every place including his restroom.It is funny to witness the paradox unfold ,when a wedding of a guy with an unrealistic number on his "friends list", gets attended by 1/20th the number.on his list.(but who takes invites sent as offline messages seriously these days.)
Gone are those times when friends employed arguments and cuss-words when faced with difference of opinions. A person not liking his friend's profile picture, deleting a post on his wall by his friend or blocking him from his profile surreptitously have become the modus operandi,thanks to the upheaval caused by the advent of facebook.

When the news of a hideous holocaust in the neighbouring country breaks, we could resort to praying for the survivors, shed a tear or two if faint hearted or even take a moment away from regular routine to overcome the impetus of the news. But what do we do instead, we create fancy hashtags on twitter to show our solidarity with eyes fixated on retweets received.I don't think we would resort to a similar burlesque, when our close ones are at the receiving end.
It is come to a point when we are talking about a Tarentino flick or Vanilla Sky's ending, but are actually using them as an alibi to show off the connoisseur lurking within.

The predicament of a person indulging in exaggeration could be compared to that of one with two left feet attempting to dance before a full house.It is primal when hit by an avalanche of emotions to be overwhelmed, instead of bothering to articulate the feeling in pursuit of the approval of a judgemental crowd. If one is able to articulate a genuine emotion, it ain't as beautiful as the means used to describe  it for:
When we acknowledge a joke, we are preoccupied laughing that we can't text-"lol",
When we have a great meal we are preoccupied licking the fingers that we can't check-in,
 When we are in love we are preoccupied sending telepathic waves that we can't send a heartin.