Be Good, Do Good.

            Here's an ordinary man. And he's a growing ordinary man. He takes in all that the world throws towards him, good or bad, and ingests it and keeps it in. And he grows. But don't tell him that he's grown so much every now and then. Because someday, he will think that he's grown more than anyone else. And that's the day he will stop growing.

            Yesterday was a good day. A day that taught me a lot about human nature. Good, bad. Beautiful, ugly. Right, wrong. I have the month of Ramadan going on. A very prestigious and traditional month in the Islamic calendar. A month where a follower is required to abstain from all food, drink and sexual relations from sunrise to sunset in order to elevate his consciousness from the physical to the moral and ultimately the spiritual dimension of his being. There was a time when I used to follow it. I don't now. I don't want to be a self-righteous asshole and make excuses on the internet over this matter, but yeah, I don't follow it. There was a prayer service that was held last night somewhere in South Bombay at a relative's house. Such prayer services happen thrice in a row in the month of Ramadan where the people are to be up and following certain traditions till dawn, after which it concludes and everyone goes their own way. My mom wanted me to go along with her. We always go together, every year. I'd had a tedious week at college, with the weekend being my only breathing space where I could relax and enjoy doing nothing, so I refused. My mom never took me for much of a believer throughout life. I was never the 5 times Namaz/day kinda guy, but I had my own way of believing in God. I didn't want to ignore certain responsibilities and follow religion. I don't think that's what He would've wanted me to do, but then again, that's my way of looking at it. My mom is really edgy when it comes to these things. She never appreciated my belief for God no matter how strongly I believed in Him(not like I believed in Him for her satisfaction), and was always unhappy with my efforts. Yesterday was her breaking point. She told me I won't go anywhere without His help. There'll be no one to protect me or watch over me in pressing situations. And that I'll have to pay for each time I've taken religion lightly when I'm finally facing Him up there. "What are you going to say then?" she asked me. I had no answer. She yelled and bawled and cursed me for being so ignorant. "Na deen ke, na duniya ke", she said. Neither did you ever belong to religion, nor did you ever belong to the world.

           I always believed that God lived somewhere inside, and as long as you cleansed each and every bit of your spirit by doing good for others and doing nothing immoral or unethical, you'd be closer to God than any other man. There are people who give up the world. Their responsibilities, relationships and life. And go and preach religion at some temple or a shrine far away. And there are people who kill, bomb, extort and assassinate in the name of religion. A man standing and praying in front of the sculpture of his deity at one moment might be holding a gun to your head at the next moment if you mock his faith in his God. How could God want that? The devil came into existence because he refused to bow down to humans and all of mankind. Even for all you religious people out there, THAT is the pedestal that God holds man over. And you're ready to kill not one, but entire nations of people who didn't respect your belief in your God? If that's what a believer is supposed to look like, then there's probably a huge difference between being a religious person and being a good person.

           I went out with a few of my acquaintances last night. On a lonely Saturday night when I really had nothing to do, they didn't seem like a bad option. They were a bunch of friends who were labelled all sorts of things by others around them. They were called liars. Conspirators. Freaks. Fashion-disasters. All sorts of bullshit. I'm not going to be a hypocrite here; I've labelled them a couple of times too. I started hanging out with a few of them recently, and I've realised that they actually aren't bad people. And that's the thing. I didn't care if they were ugly, stupid, black, white, fat, thin, tall, short. As long as they are nice to me, I'm nice to them. I have no reason to not be.

           Yesterday made me realise a lot of things about mankind. There can be a mother who's ready to disown a perfect son on the basis of him forming his own ideologies. There can be missiles fed, tears shed, and violence brought upon entire nations over something so volatile, solely because people don't understand what religion really is. There can be people who are misinterpreted and treated like lepers for months and years before some twist of fate brings them closer to you and makes you realise that they're simply misunderstood. Mankind really does deserve a chance. And I'm ready to give it to whoever's willing to take it with my eyes closed. Because in the end, I've realised it all. Being good and doing good is all that counts in the end. Don't overthink the consequences; let fate play its part, and you will not be disappointed. Take it from me.

It's exactly what has made me a much better, stronger and happier person than I have ever been.

Fever

            I have a fever. A bad disease that pours out and lets itself in through any which way it can find. Air-borne. Water-borne. Life-borne. It keeps my head throbbing late at night whilst inflaming each cell present inside and outside. It warms me up and shuts me down, makes me cry and makes me frown. It clouds my judgement more than slightly while my heartbeat fastens, and each thud against my ribs makes my chest grow weaker. With eyelids half open I struggle to sleep, but fever doesn't let me. I just lie, strewn on my bed while I stare at the ceiling, waiting for the fever to leave the heart and get to the head. My body radiates a heat like never before, and the deliriousness of fever makes me do things I never thought I was capable of. My half-shut eyelids show me the derailment of all the trains of my thoughts, and everything in my head becomes topsy-turvy, spirally and curvy. I can't think straight because I'm fever's bait. It used to be a blessing, but fever's got me stressing. It started off so brilliantly at first, when I was so sleep-deprived that I had no choice but to be awake. The fever set in slowly, sending pleasant chills down my spine and making my head hit the bed, slowly and swiftly. I smiled as a new warmth coruscated my aura, and I drifted off to sleep a happy man. Only to wake up to being on fire the next morning.

            But like most people, I didn't get the point of fever back then. I do now. Fever is a sense of comfort, a fight that one puts up unknowingly against all the crap that's thrown at them by the world which they're too blind to see. Fever is an aura of protection, a reminder that it isn't time to give up just yet. It will fight your fight while you try and take your meds and make it go away, but as long as you're in harm's way, fever will be here to stay. It will keep you up and remind you of why it exists, making sure you don't forget its existence for a single second. It will show you tough love, and at the same time keep you reminded of the fact that it's capable of turning your life upside down. You can't forget fever until it's done its job. I should know. I'm your fever while you are mine. And tonight, our heads will hit the bed, slowly and swiftly. We will smile as a new warmth coruscates our aura. And tonight, just like the time fever first set in,

we will drift off to sleep as happy people.


Credits : Fever - The Black Keys.
(Talk about a song getting to your head. Just like a fever does)

Raindrops

          I see a withered tree. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the horizon. Hollow. Dry. Leafless. Lifeless. Its branches lay suspended naked in the air, some being covered by dry leaves that represented forgotten dreams and resilient hope that just needed some watering. The tree stood extremely close to the sun, the heat of which scorched everything that lay inside. The clouds that sprung overhead once upon a time, disappeared and never came back. The forest remained white while all that was living turned dead, as the cry of the last raven got lost in the echo. The veins which once used to suck in water from the ground now lay corrupt with the company of lifeless skulls and bones that were buried deep beneath, and through which now ran great disbelief and lost faith. The bark of the tree dried up and lay rotten and forgotten, through which ran scars of relapse. But the tree stood. Beyond the horizon, it stood.
         
          Before I could react, my vision turned into a different dimension of reality. I was that tree. I lay somewhere in the distance, beyond the horizon. Hollow. Dry. Leafless. Lifeless. Lost ambition and envy scorched everything that lay inside. My surroundings remained colourless as I pushed away everyone around me and the last offer for help, I threw far away to someplace where it was lost in the echo. My veins which used to dream for me were now corrupt with lifeless conspiracies, lust and spite. The shine of my skin dried up and lay rotten and forgotten, through which ran scars of relapse. But I stood. Beyond the horizon, I stood. And after a long wait stretched by eternity, I feel a chill of comfort. There's a wind that has come by and carried away all the dead leaves that lay on the ground. The sun shines brighter with a singe that makes me feel more alive. There's a comfort of doing good to others that washes away all conspiracy, lust and spite from my veins, and fills it with gratitude and appreciation. My skin feels moist again, and the shine present in the smile on my face has now returned with a promise that it will only glow brighter by the moment. A speck of snow falls from the sky on my hand, just one, representing a promise for more to come soon, as long as I believe. And the clouds that had disappeared a long time ago, are now back with raindrops that have made me lush and green again, helping me turn over a new leaf. I finally feel more alive than I have ever felt.

And it is a far better place that I'm in now, than I have ever known.

Her

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. 

            The seconds clocked past as she sat there, her head buried in the darkness. Her figure was a silhouette, slightly illuminated by the 3am lamp-post that flickered every now and then. Every few minutes, there would be some car that passed by the nearby turn while a little bit of shine from its headlight led into the room full of darkness. She breathed harder than usual each time it happened. Her whirly hair cast a golden glow each time the light fell on it. There were none but a few sounds in the room. The constant hammering of her heart against her rib-cage every 0.8 seconds. The beep of the ECG machine lying right next to his bed. The whoosh of his breath escaping through the oxygen mask, fogging the mask up. The clipping of the fan overhead which might as well have fallen on her. She couldn't bare watching her father suffer from something he couldn't handle. He could handle everything, she thought. They'd called it Osteophytes, the thing that delivered excruciating pain to him each time he moved. She sat there conversing with a might that not all could fathom or face. But she knew that someone was listening.

          I met her the very next day. Huge smile on the face. Jumpy attitude. Glistening eyes. I could bet that it was the tears and the crying from the previous night. Each time she spoke, her voice cracked up with uncertainty that went unnoticed by all. She'd stop talking to put herself back together and start talking again after a while. I could sense the discomfort she carried from the night at the hospital, and all the horrors that the dark room must've brought upon her. I didn't know her too well, but I knew that look. It was the same one I taught myself.

         Coming across her and getting to know her better, I realised she was a lot like me. A face that is thought true by all. A smile that greets all those who plot her downfall. And a gesture towards the ones who need it the most but deserve it the least. Be good, do good. And let all that you do be done in love. She spent most of her time trying to mend broken bonds and conversations, not caring about what people thought of her. And if I had to pick one person I knew who genuinely believed in good, it was her. And each time I saw her face, it looked like the one of a true believer. It didn't matter if the people who she helped were 'bad' people. They were just astray of the path that all of us were supposed to be on. She made me realise that it's the 'bad' who need the most 'good' from you, and that you cannot give up on humanity. Because one day, humans will come through. It took me a while to wrap my head around that, but soon enough, I did.

         All we look for every now and then is some love. A random act of kindness from someone we care about. A smile from someone who hasn't spoken to you over weeks and months. Any little thing that could help make someone's day just slightly better and brighter. Because in the end, we're not worth our fights. We're not worth our arguments and conspiracies. Not worth being the cause of another's sorrows. Or worth being someone's vendetta. A smile counts for so much more than a frown. And happiness overtakes sorrows, even if it is for the moment. Because in the end, humanity deserves so much more. Because someday, this post might just help you be the better man.

And it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for her.