The High Tide.

Let us consider a parent and a child, their child. Now, what will the parent do to keep his family safe. Right from the birth, they will try to make the most  and offer the best for their kid. Be it care, education, guidance, or anything a parent would be their to support their kid, their every need.
Now, this has to come to my attention. Mostly it is in the movies or novels. So, there it goes… Let’s say the father is held at a gun point and asked / forced to tell about something more crucial and if it falls into the hands of the person holding the gun, a thousand or even more people could die. SO the person pointing the gun at the guy ( father) shifts the gun from his head to his son/daughter. After a little but of hesitation and a lot of intimidation, he finally reveals the secret endangering a few thousand lives. No, if we were to weigh the balance, there is one / two people on one side while on th other there are a few thousand. I would assume, he would only tell, if he was capable of stopping the catastrophe before it happens somehow, escaping from the clutches of the person hold the gun and somehow overpowering him. IF he really does succeed, wit ha little loss of like ( lets’ say 20-50), he finally stops the perpetrator, just in time saving a few thousand and his kid as well. Yay!  The good guy won. And because he is the hero, he won, the story that he was in. Cheers and hugs and what not. But no body speaks about the causalities ( those 20-50) . They are casualties of war? Or is it because the end justifies the means. But does it really ? Does End really justify the means?
Now, the parent-kid bond is something that can[t be compared or described. Now this brings us to the ultimate parent – kid relationship. The god and the disciple ( or his people) or should I say his children. A parent would try to provide them everything that is in their power and everything they are capable of. But then there is God, who has the ultimate power to provide anything in this world., like anything. It doesn’t have to be out of the world, it could be as small as a hope, a little but of faith, or perhaps a life. And we hear about the 2-3 year kid battling Cancer. And I question everything. Every fucking thing.  And I am like What the Fuck God? Is it the sins of the previous life? Are you being stupid, right now ? Or is it the sins of the father? Are you being idiotic / cynic right now ? Seriously ? Of all the people, I mean the higher power in the world, are you giving stupid excuses. Oh are these the ones we are giving ? Well, we need to have some explanation for things that happen right? Nobody could prove that you exist. You wouldn’t  let anyone! And then there are billions of people believing in you. Are you taking that for granted ?
A parent would be impartial, even if they have their own favorites. Yes, they would punish someone, but there always something to learn, a scope to learn. But what do you want us to ? Preach what you have preached? Take a dip in the holy water and be purified. And what now ? Some even offer everything to get some favors from you. And they do get the favors. Is that what God is ? A God to be bought? Yes, all you ask is faith and a little belief. But then , lets just go though the bible and you wanted sacrifices and all that shit. You created something beautiful and you wanted that to be sacrificed for the better of the rest ? Really ? If not sacrifice then there is some or the other thing that yo just want.
I just hope that someday people realize that what really are you. A fragment of human imagination,. Perhaps a good person who once changes the whole world once ! But the you just left it to pursue something better didn’t you? And someday people realize what they are really doing. Talking to the wall, a stone ,  offering to the wooden planks, stones and whatnot. What’s more disgusting is the people who are cashing on your whole belief thing. We have to offer money to keep the family safe, to keep the house safe, to keep the person we love safe? Is this some sort of business transaction or what?
Why? Why am I doing this? Because life happened.  Nearly 25 year ago, a life was lost, out of the blue. Just like that. A kid, not even 4 days old taken, or should I say snatched away. A kid who perhaps could have done wonders and a kid because of whom I am here writing about all this. I never knew this kid. I never got a chance. May be if he was alive, I wouldn’t be.  And that my whole existence lives on his mercy or should I say his death ? A brother whom I never even got to see. God.
Are you testing us ? The loyalty of people ? Really ? Testing the loyalty and what we are made of? So, what if we fail, are you going to let innocent people die? Kids die ? You do understand that it sounds more sadistic than anything. Are you the devil in God’s image? Perhaps, you are. Because I don’t seem to find any other explanation for it !

A kind.

He saw a girl today at the park, a little girl. She reminded him of his daughter. He hadn’t seen her in over a year. He misses her, very badly. She had meant the world to him even when she was just born. He could never forget that moment he saw her for the first time, her tiny face, her tiny arms. She was small, but to him she was much bigger, a world. I would do anything for her, he said under his breath.

The little girl in the park was playing with a friend of hers. She looked happy, giggling away and throwing sand at each other. He wanted to talk to her. But there were people all around. He didn’t know how to. He had lost his daughter a couple of years ago. Some freak accident, some natures’ fault, but he blame himself. He has never really recovered from that loss. The trauma had been painful enough for him. The little girls mother comes back to take her home. But the little girl didn’t wanted to. She wanted to stay and play. Her mother  has some important work at home and so she drags her back to her car and drives her home placing her weeping kid at the back of her car.

He wanted to confront her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to the girl, this little girl. He would never make her cry. He would take care of her, the best possible way.
The little girl was playing as usual. Her mother is talking to another lady whose kid was also playing in the ground. Eventually, it was time to go butt her mother feels bad for yesterday, so she looks at the little girl and lets the little girl play a little longer. And waits while talking to her new friend.

The little girl was a little exhausted and was panting a bit. He offers a candy and takes the little girl to get an ice cream saying that it will give her the energy to play more. She wanted to play more, so she obliges opening the candy excitedly. The little girls’ mother comes back and doesn’t find her. She panics, shouts,  screams, turns the playground upside down, checks every nook and corner. But in vain.

The little girl enjoys the ice cream sitting in the passenger seat of her new found friend. He takes her to his house, shows her room, his daughter’s room. It was pretty, pink, with ponies and stuffed animals and a million other play things. She gets excited and plays for a little while. She suddenly remembers her mother. She asks for her mother. She cries, cries for her mother. The cries become louder. He gets scared. He takes to the room in the basement telling her that her mommy is hiding there. And this was all a game they were playing. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, he wouldn’t let anyone take away from him, he says under his breath. He wouldn’t let anyone do any harm to her. He wouldn’t let the people harm this little girl. He is going to protect this little girl, his little girl. As she goes inside, he locks up the door behind her.

While having a discussion about the kind of people and ‘psychos’ in particular, with a friend of mine, she said ” psycho with complex ,layered way of thinking. Their brains work in such complicated ways,we can’t even decipher. It’s idiots who don’t think. Psychos do. And since we do not understand the mechanics of their brain,we label them as PSYCHOS. ”

I did think that the complex layered thought process was for the geniuses. Like the real geniuses who see the world differently and make something extraordinary. But psychos? Come on. They never had a brain, did they? We don’t understand them, sure. It’s because they are mad and don’t know what they are doing. They don’t look into the future. They live on a whim, looking at things in their twisted way with no conscious whatsoever. They lack the empathy. I could go on and on. I label people psychos who don’t think about other’s, who don’t think about what damage they would do to others, what their actions might implicate.

Why did I post this? Because after spending quite sometime on writing this so called story, I didn’t get the response I was looking for in the discussion we were having. So, here it is.

Did you read this post? Do care to share your point of view? I would really appreciate it.


What do you believe in? What do we believe in? What do I believe in? A question that strikes every realm of our existence. I believe in you. I believe in me. I believe in us. But why? Why do you believe in me? Why do you believe in yourself? Why do you believe in us? A question we can answer with a little or no hesitation. Because I know you. I saw your work, saw your passion, saw your heart beating loudly for it. I saw. But belief is fickle, you know. A flickering summer rain. A flash on a rainy day, not knowing where it comes from but you just feel it. Belief. It is hard to come by. It is hard to come to terms with. But what do you believe in, really believe in?

The night whispers sweet lullaby with the stars shining bright in the limelight of the moon. The wind ruffling through the hair, soft and cold. A rhythmic music plays among the countless stars flickering, the pale white clouds drifting in the melody, the silence that beheld the night. Among the perfect organized structure, a blaze of raging ball swifts across the horizon beyond our reach. Shooting star. That joy that it adds to the pleasant night.

Our hands intertwine, holding them close together, we bow our head engaging ourselves in a conversation, a conversation with God, thanking him for the life we thus had, and hoping that he would continue to do so. In out little intimate sessions, we implore for a better life, we ask, beg for forgiveness, if need be. We pray, pray for our own selfish needs, perhaps. Better life. Redemption. Forgiveness. Prayer. Belief.

Why? Why do you believe? How do you believe? What made you believe ? I believe in you because I have seen you, your passion, your heart. I know what you are capable of? But how do you believe in something that you don’t see, haven’t even felt ? Fickle, is it not? The stories that are passed on through generations that once created the world, the ones who once protected the world, the humanity from its extinction, the ones who led the mankind into extinction. Stories passed on, generation after generation. Stories. Belief.

Utopia. Pi. Bull-fucking-shit. Belief.