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Religion thrives on mediocrity of its followers ?

Mankind is known to have always feared and sometimes even worship what it could not control. The thought finds explanation in the emergence of deities in the form of forces of nature in some of the earliest civilisations. It invokes utmost curiosity when, one starts to think of the origin of religions in their current form. How did the practice of worshipping start? Was it respect for the unfathomable power of these forces of nature, which made mankind worship them, or it was fear of their fury, which drove it to submission and surrender? While in both the cases, these forces of nature were subjects of unquestionable reverence, the underlying emotion that pushed them to that pedestal is extremely critical to identify-the former driven by respect and inspiration while the other is hinged upon fear as the driving force. The ancient civilisations and their traditions seem to suggest towards the latter. As the human brain started to think outside the day to day needs of food and
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Confessions of GOD (?)

I am awakened by sudden creaking of the old wooden temple doors. The brilliant reddish lining on the horizon had announced the advent of the sun with birds chirping in unison. The soothing breeze of fresh air rushing past the fat familiar silhouette of the priest prepared me for yet another busy day at work. A sudden thud of a coconut shell breaking right in front of me, brought me back to the real world where the priest had thrown me open to the enthusiastic crowd waiting eagerly to catch a glimpse of their favorite, the Almighty, the most powerful. The GOD. Yes, that is me. I am the so called God, expected to help people in dire need, installed helplessly in a dark gloomy room and adorned beautifully with ornaments. The daily chore had begun. The desperate hands trying to feel my feet have started to flow in. While the luckier ones have even poured some milk on my feet. “What a waste”, I was thinking when I found a thick black hand circling me with a currency note. The daily madne

The Metro Mayhem

“ Baby doll main sone di”. The song playing on my mobile FM had taken me into a totally different world with Sunny Leone and a big smile was beginning to form when I was brutally brought back to reality which was far from amusing. I was hit on the back with a huge bag by a running figure . I found myself struggling hard against gravity to avoid an embarrassment of lying flat on the ground on one of the busiest Metro stations of Delhi. With so many female passersby, falling flat on the ground was never an option for me. I tried hard and finally managed to get my stature back but had lost my composure by then.  I looked back to find the culprit. He was by then making a desperate leap into the train compartment hitting another gentleman on the way. I cursed under my breath, a little louder than I had expected. ( which I realized when I had to bear a disgusted stare from the girl passing by ). I moved rather cautiously avoiding a recurrence and joined the queue waiting nonchalantly for th

The unusual sojourn!!!

Somehow I have always found it inappropriate to bore people with my travel escapades but can’t resist putting to words this exceptional experience. Now that you have decided to read through this post let me briefly do what I love doing the most- talk about myself (as a traveler this time). I am a man of very few words . Unlike many,I avoid striking conversations with co passengers . It feels good to just gaze out of the window thinking about my next blog J . And there is always a respite in the music of the collection of songs that I carry in my mobile. More so a notion has gotten into my head that women fall for men who speak less J . Not that I am always on the lookout , but trains are the most promising platforms to bump into some beauties. The idea gets strength from the numerous success stories that my friends have shared over a period of time. I haven’t met success yet but as they say “one should never lose hope”. It happened when I boarded the train back to Mumbai from Ran

Johaar Jharkhand!!!

"Are bhai rukiye na,kaahe albalaye hue hain. ek ek k karke na milega tikatwa sabko" I could hear the ticket collector for the bus plying from Jamshedpur to Ranchi vent out his frustration as various 100 rupee notes tried to poke into his nose. I could not help but smile at the words ,the dialect ,the place. I knew I was back to the land I had started from. And for some reason it gave me an innate sense of relief. So I went ahead and shamelessly joined the crowd in poking a 100 rupee note into the ticket collector's nose."Ek ticket idhar dena bhaiya; Aage ka seat dena". For the moment I had forgotten the more civilised method of getting things done by queing up or the luxuries of online reservation system I was so used to.I knew my land and how to get things done here. This 'poking the 'thing' into the nose' tactic was ingeniuosly brought to use by us in college days when we had to get our "NO DUES" done before every semester. When there

My Tryst with eggs!!!

Scene I, Ranchi: “Promise me , You’ll have two boiled eggs everyday for breakfast before leaving for the plant.” My mother was virtually in tears as she stuffed my travel bag with almost everything edible she could find. On earlier occasions I would audit the packing she would carry out religiously and do away with superfluous eatables.” Less luggage, more comfort” I am a firm believer…Unfortunately my mother isn’t. This time she was not even ready to let me have a look, leave alone the screening. And she had reasons strong enough. I was leaving for Pune after two months of medical leave at home and somehow the doctor had managed to convince my parents that the reason for my prolonged ailment was my carelessness towards diet. So I had been through long sessions on what to eat ,how to cook etc. Unfortunately this time around my mother had the support of everyone else in the family. And I had to abide by. Scene II, Pune: Day-Thursday, Time:11 am. I am off my bed wandering in my apartment

A page from an Automobile Engineer's Diary

“Hmm”….The doctor gave a gentle nod as he scanned the anatomy of my lungs which lay glowing in front of him thanks to William Roentgen. I looked on helplessly as a student dreading to hear the word “FAIL” from his class teacher. The doctor put down the spectacles on the table and began – “Seems you have been enjoying your freedom over here too much, too much of smoking and drinking going on?” I was caught unaware at such a stark remark but then the Hindi film dialogue echoed in my ears “You should never lie to your doctor and lawyer”. I confessed sheepishly and the doctor carried on. “You have asthmic bronchitis and you need to quit smoking immediately. I am writing you some medicines. Have them for a week and then we will meet to see the improvement.” I nodded gently and as I started to open the door the doctor intervened with his fat finger wagging at me “Remember, NO SMOKING”. “Yeah Yeah NO SMOKING “ I tried to imitate, much to the surprise of the secretary who sat outside for the b