There are those nights in my sixteen year old life, when I lay on my bed too small, that creaks too much every time I shuffle in my sleep, and while looking through the glass window in my room, at the moon that will always be chaste, the stars that will never stop shining and the dark- never ending sky that will always exist, I question the purpose of my Being. After twisting and turning in my bed with the grey clouds of my existence making me restless, I console myself. I tell myself that He will ensure that every breath I inhale has purpose. With that, I relieve myself of the burden that is my ‘existence’. As if singing those words to myself like a lullaby, I soar into the peaceful slumber of oblivion.
Trillions of miles away, He too lays on his bed, made with smooth, satin silk sheets and a perfectly soft mattress and looks at the dark- never ending sky that will always exist and he thinks to himself, “Human world’s imperfection and man’s constant futile efforts to make it perfect keeps him busy and away from the gloom of his insignificant existence. And here, in this heaven’s bounty perfection, I am left with nothing but myself to question. I remember the time when Man used to depend on me for things from his happiness to his satisfaction to his meek ambitions. Man’s evolution from praying to self-motivation and from dependence to independence has left me wondering about the purpose of my corporality. It’s quite a merciless irony on the ego of my existence that despite of being the creator of the universe, the universe needs me not? Man speaks of fairytales ending with happily ever after. Little does he know that happily and ever after are like the two heads of Janus facing the opposite sides of the doors of existence. My immortality gives me being, yet takes my very being away. It’s like Samuel Beckett said, “Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful”. He was waiting for me when he spoke these words. Only if he knew that on nights like this, I wait for me too. Man, questions himself for lack of knowledge, I question myself despite of it”. With that thought and a single heartfelt sigh in the ocean of infinite un-heavenly silence blanketing forceful currents of chaos underneath, he forces his thoughts to sleep. Only the universe knew that we weren’t that different after all…
None the less, morning comes, as the orange and yellow creeps into the horizon, both me and Him wake up, look at the sky that still exists, and accept life as it is. Questions that neither me, nor him have answers to, things that exist for no reason at all and a whole lot we shall never know of. We tell ourselves that and bid farewell to the whys, hows and what fors of the world in bed, with the promise of seeing them again at night dancing on our lips.