So this is a personal take on the existence of a superior being governing the existence of man.

These are personal opinions based on my observation of the life around me, and might contain some mistakes. Please take this write-up as a light hearted read, and please take no offence, for these are the words and thoughts of a sixteen year-old teenager.

Part 1. What are you?

And as he swooped down from the heavens above,

He left a trail golden,

And with his charming aura,

Changed the course of life.

He was God.

                                           - Anonymous

I wonder if that really happened.

Let us start with a basic question. What is God? When asked to a stereotypical believer, the answer usually comprises not of a believable definition, but a string of adjectives - omnipotent, omnipresent, almighty, bright, strong, all-pervading, blah, blah, and blah.

Now that is not a definition, but is a description. Also, this is a description that no mortal has ever seen, or heard, or felt, and hence, is liable for doubt.

Focusing on one of the prominent adjectives to describe God, "omnipotent" means "everything". So, God is strong, God is everywhere, God is great, etc.However, at the same time, God is everything. So, God is weak, God is nowhere, God isn't great, God might as well be a sadist, God might drink heavily, or might be a teetotaler, He might be Trump, or even Hillary. And we don't know. All we know is that He, is everything. He is the opposite if himself. He is self-contradictory. And hence, he is nonexistent.

I will be writing more about this.Cheers!

I live in India. Zooming in on the map, I live in Maharashtra, a state facing various problems (my friends). One of these problems is education.

The Legislative Committee of my state hands over portfolios regarding various departments to various Members of the Assembly. The uncommon part in this process during the last year was that one man who received a really important portfolio had had education only upto 8th grade. Let us just take a moment, and thank the Assembly for not handing over the Education Department to that guy. 

So my state has no classes for "sex education". The reason being that some of the politicians claim that the "sex education" will make the kids want sex, and that such education is a stain on the whites of our Indian Culture. And I don't blame these guys. It is just that they have not received any basic education.

The people in the Education Department have the job of screwing the lives of young learners. All they have to do is create textbooks full of mistakes, conduct stupid exams, and have tea in their office.

The Tenth Grade Board Exams and the academic year preceding these exams is the worst. It is a lot like a term of pregnancy. (Disclaimer : I have NOT experienced pregnancy of any kind. I write the following based on my knowledge of pregnancy.)

The first two months are the months where you feel really good about everything. You'll rise early, study/morning sickness, and spend the day in a pleasant mood.

The months 4-7 of the pregnancy are spent studying and experiencing all the complications and kicks of the baby. In the academic year, you get all the tests, and the zeros, and the scoldings.

The final stage of pregnancy is called 'labor' for a reason. The last two months of the academic year are the worst. You toil hard. You study. You continue with your string of failures. You realize that the sex of the child is not what you thought it'd be. The dad runs away.

Every cloud has a silver lining.

Childbirth. As they say, childbirth is the most beautiful thing to ever happen, and you're lucky to witness something as pretty and handsome as that. The completion of the  Tenth Grade Board exams can be directly compared with Childbirth. You feel free.

You feel happy.And the year ends. 

The man in black stood before the glass,

Waiting for the moment to pass,

As he saw a gliding white mess,

Making his weak heart race.

She was his nemesis, his whiter side,

But she was the one who made him lose his pride,

The glass between them showed them each other's sights,

It was a mirror, showing them their deepest insights.

Black loved White, he loved her sight,

Even though they were contradictions of one another,

What he didn't know was that,

She took no bother.

He didn't realize that he,

Was looking at himself and falling,

For the image that loomed before him,

So far away was the calling.

White thought she saw her darker self,

A  gloomy shadow of her beautiful face,

She was fond of the dark idea,

She wanted to be the darkness to cover every bright haze.

Little did she know that she,

Was loving the idea she shouldn't be,

She was blinded by the mirror before her,

She wasn't sure what she could see.

He uttered the first words,

Told her she was beautiful,She wondered why her dark self,

Was mocking her and making her a fool.

"I want to be you!" She chanted heavily.

"I want to be with you." came the dark response.

"We shall do godly work...together" He proposed,

The Whiteness smiled," Do I get to wear horns?"

They smiled at each other for some time,

Until their heavenly stomachs felt some pain,

This was when they realised,

That their conversation was in vain.

They could never be together,

For each other they would refute,

Silence can never become one with noise,

Silence is always mute.

They looked at each other and saw,

Each other fading into air,

"Both of us don't exist, you know." She said,

Her words she used with a flair.

"We're just ideas, created by reality.

Because people couldn't handle the truth.

They created somethings superior to them - us.

This, in better words I cannot put."

She vanished into thin air, 

Before he could even try to say,

That he loved her...then he thought,"Maybe another day."

She walked in with a paper in hand,

Her pretty face, sporting a grin,

Greeted Him without losing her smile,

“I have some speech work. You in?”

Overwhelmed by two things so nice,

Two beautiful things at once,

He agreed without any hesitation in mind,

He felt far away from his blazing guns.

His Blazing guns were hours of his usual life,

Hours of boredom, agony, and miniature distress,

All the time spent with Her,

Was miles away from his mess.

Nobody would believe it was their first meet,

Nobody’d believe that they’d never worked together before,

The result of their work was appreciated by all,

It was the beginning of a friendship, infinitely pure.

Their conversations were never futile,

Far from cheesy and stale,

From His prison of gloom and boredom,

Him; Her words would bail.

He met her everyday in the eve,

And everyone thought He was trying to weave,

A nest only for the two of them,

His efforts, He thought, not going in vain.

He was the guardian to her angel,

She was the usher of his wandering soul,

He wanted Her in his life for time remainder,

That, for Him, was his only goal.

Winter crept in around the same time,

And He found Someone else to hold,

The Someone was a dark poison, which made colder,

The things that were beginning to get cold.

He realized that his Someone and Her were like like poles,

He realized that they were fire and ice,

He chose love over infatuation,

And rolled the dice.

His Someone went out of the play,

His Someone got the sack,

Darkness and black walls no more,

Spring was back.

They spoke at competitions together and won,

She won them and He clapped for her always,

They set stages ablaze with their words,

In His words for Her, He says,

“All the light in the world,

Like all the stories untold,

Just like a surprise unfolds,

Shall fall upon you.

Make you shine always,

I’ll be there with you,

As your friend,

Till the very end.

I’ll stand beside you,

Ready to lose everything,

To see my only wish come true,

To see you win.

Bask in all your glory,

Tell the world your story,

In your long ride,

I’ll always be by your side.”

Such were His thoughts,

Which He could never think aloud,

For She was something He could never win,

She deserved something much better than Him.

This is for @tictac. I dunno how to tag someone here.

Rain,

Does it fall in vain?

Or is it pain?

In the soul of god?

Maybe raindrops are tears,

Of God crying about his fears,

Or he has lost his peers,

Rain is a symbol.

Maybe God is hypersad today,

He sends rain with acid on our way,

And it crashes every night and day,

Rain.

Pitter Patter we scream,

Until the Sun glances with a beam,

And the crashing has stopped it may seem,

But God is merely wiping his tears.

The drops are tears in the sky,

The sky is the eye.

The eye that watches over us all,

And causes the beautiful rain to fall.