This last challenge was given to me a long time ago. I’ve tried various times to write about it but have ended up feeling it to be fake and unnatural. This was because this particular challenge from ‘Yaz Rooney ‘ on my page ‘Challenge Accepted‘ needed introspection more than anything else. Here I needed to let loose all my pre-formulated thoughts, beliefs, notions etc and let my inner mind do the thinking as at the end of the day, that is what I really think.
So after a lot of thought on this, here it is finally. A story on what I think of this world, the spirit, and afterlife. I am going to keep it simple by framing the story around myself as the protagonist/antagonist.
It’s a madhouse rat-race and it all began with my conception. My birth was a result of a race being won by one in a million. Then after I came into this world, though protected from this for a major portion of my life till now, it is not too hard to realize that each and every single second of existence is a race, with others and more importantly with oneself. A million thoughts race through the mind every second, but it the one that reaches the conscious mind most quickly, that preoccupies the mind in the form of thinking. Even as I write this, there are many races taking place for each of these words to come to this form. I may not be aware of all of these or even any of these, but they exist nonetheless. How am I so sure? Introspect for a while and you would know. Sit and think about it.
As it is oft called, I was born with a pure heart. No emotions were known to me and I would learn them by training, conditioning and observing. And therefore, it is funny that each and everyone of us is nothing but a mere combination of emotions that already exist. The combination is unique in each of us, but the ingredients are the same. And to this rule, there are no exceptions.
I am tempted right now, to write about the rat race we all fight throughout our lives and regret later. But I’ll let it pass. I do not wish to convert this to a moral lecture.
Just as my birth was the entry of a new participant in this race, there are exits too. When people reach their respective end lines, they leave the race. Many of us think that a person left “too soon”, but who in this case then defines “soon” or “late”. Their track ended and so they left, there is not much more to it. Our emotions make us see much more. We feel the need to defy/justify every exit.
So what happens when someone’s race is over. Do they leave for good? I think otherwise, and this thought may purely be a figment of my emotion. Once they are done running, they stand aside and watch the others running. In hard times, they guide the ones they are attached to (by whichever emotion). For the sake of our convenience, we call them spirits, putting them together as a class. Not each one of us believes in it and the “non-believers” wish to question their existence by logic. For them, that not perceivable by the senses is not present. The Shrimad Bhagawat Gita states that that which cannot be felt, cannot be seen, cannot be heard, cannot be destroyed, cannot be created etc, is the true final power in the world. And the spirits too become a part of them.
It is thus that in our hardest of times, we function on automatic. The reactions and thoughts in such times comes from our innermost part, which is driven by our unconscious mind and by those standing in the side lines and guiding us what to do. And hence, no fall is so hard that standing up again becomes impossible. We all fall at different laps in the race, and we all get up, whether we realize it or not. The ones of us that realize we are on our feet again start running, while the others stand rooted to the spot, not moving on, as they are yet to know they can run again.
For me, the world here-after is that of peace and tranquility. We are off the race and into the quiet zone, where it is not our heart or our mind that needs to function. That place is beyond what we can think of with the limited capacities of our mind. Thus, though I have something in my mind right now to describe the world after we ‘die; (the race for us ends), I am sorry but I will be unable to put it in words, not even for myself. Let our ‘images’ of that be unique to each own. Even if you tried to put your image in words, it would be futile.