Men and women like to feel inferior. It is a fear of exclusiveness as common as sweat, inherent in men who fear being the slightest bit uncommon, perhaps as uncommon as a man who may not sweat, for they believe that any sort of uniqueness saddles a man with a strange priority of maintaining it, when actually we need not maintain something that has the utmost in us for a source. There is an ever-present severe inclination for humility in men for it neither suggests the lack of the utmost, nor confirms its presence, and none can challenge its feasibility - this is the pretext we all swear by. You need to open your eyes to see, it is only logical, but even if you do open your eyes, seeing something is still a matter of choice.
I wish you to see something: there is no God.
Belief is a stray sentiment; it functions furiously around its determination to survive. If it is healthy, it is impenetrable, if it is not, it is unknowingly so. Sadly, it also doesn’t end with man; it ends with conflict and qualms. Men know perfectly to be courageous, they do not know but what to be courageous of, for or against. A belief is a second conscience overruling the normal one, it provides for all expectations of courage.
To believe is to sacrifice something from the entire self, but being induced to believe, in itself, is a loss of the sense of the entire self. When we believe outside a permanent address of obviousness, we tend to believe on a temporary hypothetical margin.
In the process of the origin and end result of something, the objective, before it was conceived and after it was accomplished, remains unchanged. This objective, in fact, validates both, the origin and the end result. Belief lingers without either.
Belief is a personal satisfaction that justifies man’s actions; it also appropriates it. ‘We do what we believe in’ - to the extent of - ‘we must do what we believe in’. People aspire towards their beliefs. Like they commit to their satisfactions, they also prefer to commit to the place where they find it. That is in itself the greatest injustice a man can perpetrate - to rely on something uncertain and forge in oneself the assurance that it is not; and then expect it to yield.
You ‘believe’ in God; I ask you not to.
Going back to the notion that there is a God helps us with another notion, that we aren’t it. Superiority and inferiority are notions. God and man are notions. One kind of a notion is as finitely dependant on the other as it is independent of it. And this is precisely the dilemma. You see, man’s dependence on the notion of God is a purposeful misjudgment barely for the sake of being dependant. Men and women willfully like to feel inferior, firstly for they refrain to admit to the responsibility of their choices and secondly for inferiority does not let them acknowledge beyond that pretext, the one that overshadows the sacred word, the only one that is not a notion, the one that bears the fountainhead of the redemption of all humanity.
A conclusion such as that there is no God helps us to declare another - that within his limitations, a man may rise so that that satisfaction he aims for must be more than final. They must find a medium to breathe and exist in an inert independence where they can choose to surrender without the reluctance and indifference. When we talk of another kind of survival other than the primary one, with a greater nature of independence, a de facto downright unconditional and total submission, and where the transient satisfaction he aims for is more than the final ability in man or is a somewhat credible challenge to it, when we arrantly stop believing in God to succumb to believing in something God-like in us - we edge on ‘Purpose’.
Between man and the obtainable lies a cheap form of development - motive; between a man and the unobtainable lies the pursuit that searches beyond the compatible in him - purpose. Motive constricts man to his self; purpose is all and any involvement beside and outside this. Motive and purpose are close counterparts of the range of man’s ability, almost like alibi and reason; motive is a funnel for it, and purpose, a gauge. Both are concrete definitions: motive, of a virtue in man and purpose, of the peak of all his virtues. Both are also stalwart contradictions to that same range of the ability of man for motive becomes the exhaustion of one or more attributes, and purpose, their last gesture.
Purpose is never real. It is so because it is higher than the obsessive human prioritization of reality. A man with purpose is alive only to morality when morality is not a sense of right and wrong but merely a sure sense of direction.
To know how much we can expand is to understand a persisting relation with ourselves, but to know how much we can expand immediately after that obvious relation is to infringe an unfounded realm, much beyond the scope in us, and find outside one’s personal capacity and in an unnatural uniqueness, a paramount artificial strength (for the source is external) and its tantamount egoistical desire.
A satisfied result engenders a threat to the world, to alter it by the means of a single man, by what he’s a reflection of. We threaten things by the corruption of knowing them; we change things by manipulating that corruption. When we lose the thing that compensates the weak in us, we confront our weaknesses with an inexperienced, inexplicable terror, and when or if we deny succumbing to both, the terror and the weakness, what we wage against them is a warring search to reconcile them with the impersonal in the world, to begin the hypothesis of change; a change in the principal of man that further begets a change in the principal of the world.
Purpose is about the external in man, and that external is his immediate premise, from where he draws the idea of himself and the world. The self, the external and the world are all contrasting degrees, opposites in the measure of character and existence. To find purpose in self is to rob from the external, it being the medium to the yield of the world. To implement purpose is to destroy the external and hence seclude man and the world in a permanent delicate equilibrium. Then, between man and the world, now inter-dependant entities, all changes are mutual. Then, there’s self, and the world is a constant external, the only contrasting degrees.
What will happen to a man, let us consider myself - Tushar Jain, were I to discover Purpose? What would ‘purpose’ make of my individuality? What would happen to me, if I was subtracted of everything except the knowledge of my absolute person? There’s a door in all our minds - my and yours - a door latched and bolted a thousand times over, the latches checked and rechecked everyday, every moment; what if one day, me and you, we wrest those bolts away, and slowly turn that knob and let the door scream open, and step in.
As I write this, I’m already at the door. I stand against it, all barricades disconnected, and I knock against it softly. Eerily, there’s a knock from the other side. Perhaps, on the other end, there’s someone I know, perhaps someone I don’t, but surely someone with his ears pressed against the wood. As the knob slips greasily under my fingers, I am eagerly resolute to determine my extent, the greatest possibility of me against every man that ever existed or shall exist. No matter what we discover, what we attain, it is the pursuit that makes all the difference. It is the least we need do for ourselves, to raise ourselves so, that men may not hope to compare and the world may not hope to redeem.
Bombard me at - mosaics12@rediffmail.com
