Runes

I resisted for the longest time to install Grammarly, thinking to myself that doing so would somehow betray my pride in being apt at the fine art of writing concisely. How petty is that I now wonder. I remember not studying at all for the IELTS exam I had to write, purely out of some misplaced sense of superiority. I did get an 8, when asked in the speaking section to describe a recent TV personality I had taken an interest in, I chose to talk about Jordan Peterson. How cringe-worthy am I? There are inherent flaws in my character, vanity, ego, narcissism, and pessimism bordering on nihilism. I might very well be living with manic depressive disorder. The highs and lows are so extreme and so frequent. It feels like an ever-present gaping dark hole in my chest, a dark cloud that seems to follow me and all my relationships. I don't have a lot of friends to begin with and that dark cloud might very well be a literal dark cloud owing to living in England for the last 18 months now. Not the best place to emigrate to sometimes I think to myself, a place which is known for its depressing weather. It might be a moot point as I don't recall being overtly joyous in sunny Dubai as well, though.

This is not a cry for help, it is merely me recording minutes of my life. I dont wash my face or brush my teeth for 2-3 days in a row these days, letting my hair and beard grow on its own accord and whims. I gave up and started smoking three times in the last year alone, not helpless I assure myself, rather, this is me trying to live an alternative lifestyle of a hippy secretly all the while trying to assert dominance and charisma in every work call that I grace with my presence ^_^

I find myself spending hours watching innumerable people debate about God, morality, cosmos and the human experience, most notably Christopher Hitchens and the aforementioned Jordan Peterson.

Christopher Hitchens, in particular, is a cherished individual to listen to. The brilliance, charisma, and eloquence of Christopher make every debate a treasure chest and, with his untimely demise, a limited one. Every article written by him, laced with his trademark wit, conciseness, and irony, jumps out of the page and grabs my undivided attention,  forcing me to scourge the internet for more of this exquisite and sadly limited supply of comfort. I am instantly drawn in with certain features of his personality, I am, forever and more, a contrarian at heart. As far back as I can remember and as much further in the future I can imagine, I am certain I was and will be this character to the point of caricature, the person who stands up and says "Sure, But!" 

There is a sense of solace to be had in this simple act of defiance, to be known for calling out that the emperor is indeed naked. There is something so sinister in how the neo-religious people insist that religiosity translates to fakery. Why should I say "Allah ka shukar" when I am not well? Growing up I heard the story of how Ibrahim A.S. came back after being 100 years out of his home to his son's house, asked his daughter in law how are things and basically instructed his son to divorce her because she frankly informed him of her hardships. Whether this "story" is authentic or not is not the point; the fact that it has been circulating amongst our elders and passed down to us shows that this somehow infers piousness amounts to a denial,  omission, or flat-out lying. And dont even get me started on wisdom of elders. The older generation are not deities to be worshipped. They, like us, made mistakes, some rather baffling ones, were often misguided, were full of superstition ( chappal ulti equals ladaai jhagde), overtly patriarchal (mera ladka, khoon, khaandaan) and simplistic. So many lives have been ruined because some selfish person on his deathbed, fearing that his legacy is at stake, made their son or daughter promise to be the glue that keeps the family together. Toxicity and suffering ensued. The chronological order of someone's birth on this planet is not an indicator of their wisdom or lack thereof.

Conformity blunts the mind, it is the antithesis of curious inquiry, the mortal enemy of self-realization. Why should we, I posit, refuse to ask basic questions? A healthy level of skepticism is crucial for the success of any meaningful endeavour; why must we go through life certain of every "known" truth? Does it not dawn on us the sheer stupidity of this quixotic perspective on EVERY aspect of our lives? Imagine being born 50 years earlier or 50 years hence. Assuming conformity to prevalent social "truths" of those times,  ponder the terrifying difference in "truths" that would have been shaping your worldview.

It takes a lot of self-importance and egoistical thinking to assume that all this has been done because we are "in the end stages of the world." Muslims have been, for the last 1,000 years, convinced that this is the end of the world. The universe does not care for your petty existence. It was not created for your benefit. When mongols sacked Baghdad, when Nadir Shah looted Delhi or when the Ottomans were overthrown, there have been hordes of people calling dibs on Armageddon view seats, the end might not be as nigh as previously thought. This is defeatism and cowardice. A people who yearn for the earth to stop spinning must have lost any hope of winning a long time ago. This self-inflicted nihilism can only be treated by introspection, by being industrious and productive. Stop looking for Mehdi AS or Jesus to appear, the probablity of these events ocuring in our lifetime atleast is minimal. Humans have been around on this earth for atleast 100,000 years, the chances that we get to see the final act are thereby stupidly improbable.

There is no virtue in being conquered, there is no righteousness in being weak or poor.