Buffering. Buffering. Buffering.
Sid's brows furrowed, and he felt a throbbing pain in his head to see the loading wheel on the laptop screen. He shot a glance at the WiFi.
No connection.
He closed his laptop shut in anger and darted his eyes at his dad, who was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper. The first thing Sid observed on his father's face was the strain, not because of weak eyesight, but all those negative news. The murmurs were audible to his ears.
The newspaper headlines read: Magnitude 7.8 earthquake, death toll jumps to 280; more than 2,600 injured. The terrorist group attacked the school and killed many innocent students. Massive tidal wave devastated coastal lines and nearby areas: death toll jumps to 89; more than 1088 missing. Due to torrential rains, railway service paused a big blow to the economy.
His father shut the newspaper with a snap. "God is dead," he muttered.
Now is this true? Sid's mind jumped to various conclusions regarding this subject matter. Maybe God's really dead, he thought. But then why do we accuse God of all those natural calamities that ultimately caused by human exploitation of Mother Nature? Of course, it is eventually caused by us. But then, what were the mistake of innocent people who get massacred in such disasters, including infants?
Like this, whenever Sid came to a particular conclusion, another refuting thought would knock off presiding one to reign its supremacy. Just for a while, though. It seemed endless, so he decided to snap himself out of this contemplation. He asked his mom about this question, but cluelessness washed over her face.
*****
"And that's my little one's brain," Neha spoke through a sip of tea. Her eyes held a glint of awe. "Could you believe eighteen-year-old thinking like a philosopher?"
Neha's friends, who were there with her listening to her motherly rhapsody, presented her with a similar look.
Neha was a woman of medium stature, friends and family always reckon her as a management guru. You'd always imagine her draped in a fashionable sari, she didn't like old school ones. When a smile touches her lips, it's an ornament that outshines her expensive bindi or make-up. Her skintone was the real thing because even in the mid-forties, it glowed like a young adult. Yoga coming in handy, eh?
"My sons are a classic example of contradiction," she went on, "I find both of them opposite. One is way too much philosophical. Another one is a hardcore materialistic. Sid's big brother, Pratham, says, 'One who curb his desire is like the walking dead. Enjoy life as if it's your last day.' Sid's outlook on this thought goes like, "If you make pleasure as the purpose of life, you'll end up making your life purposeless.'" Pratham believes in living in the moment. Why worry about the past or future? Sid's take on this thought, however, never ceases to amaze me.
"He says, 'Your present is miserable because of the past choices you made. That's why your immediate actions will determine your future.' Pratham does get frustrated with his little brother's wit. 'Little Buddha is full of himself. Even I was once a philosopher until it dawned on me that my philosophy ain't going to sail my boat.'" Sid is unusual.
"I mean, the boys around his age are indecisive and unruly. My boy, however, is a deep-thinker. I mean, I don't know the right word. He's kind of a seeker. He questions the unquestioned and seeks answers to unanswered questions. I never saw him believe in things just because it's a popular opinion. He's a bit of an anti-establishment in himself, in a spiritual, however. Sometimes he comes up to me with queries that I can't help but scratch my head. Does any of you remember our college friend, Smita, and her drunkard husband, Mr. Soddi?"
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The Krishna Love (Wattpad India Awards Winner)
الروحانية"Let's explore the world, man. First, we should go to the Himalayas," Ravi said as he was searching best spiritual places of India on his cell phone. "We're not going anywhere," Sid said sharply, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Isn't that what you...
