The kind in me is a lot busy in Himself and doesn’t seek to owe me an obligation. I ridicule myself whenever I seek His permission. I’m dependent on Him for my own practices like the labyrinth. And yet I fight for impunity. No one knows this treasure. It lies buried. The grave is fake.

Life is holy, unpolluted and free of filth. It gives no way to dust when realization is sought, but I like to eat dirty cherries. I like imperfections but only if they are my own..

I can but ridicule Him.

I approached a soldier struggling in the battleground- What brings you here, O brave one? Fight, he said. The fight we won.

But you lose. You are dying.

But we won before we died.

I asked a prisoner if he would amend himself when set free.

He didn’t seem to care.

About life.

Do I care about myself? About this flesh and this blood. This skeleton tat lies within me. Do I care about what I have to do and what I have to do not?

Yes, I do.

Why do I wander about?

Because that’s what I do first.


I have lived. I have wrestled. Wrestled against a force that neither pulled nor pushed me. And yet wrestle I did. I dragged myself down to betray the foe. I dragged myself down to kill him. I was above these heights, so he pulled me down.

And then he betrayed me.

In the name of religion.

O, Man, you live to die, and you die because you have lived. And you die in the womb because you were not willing to live.

Religion is you in the womb. It dies every time. It kills itself to give way to atheism. But you defend it all over again and push it out through the cervix. And then it takes birth and ruins you again. And then he dies and comes back to the womb and you push him again.

I have seen all sorts of people praise all sorts of deeds on a substratum that doesn’t will to live. I have seen people kill in the name of a faith. I was asked to believe in it. I did. But then I realised I couldn’t push anymore. I needed energy, and my faith didn’t provide even the bare minimum and so I had to flee, and they called me a coward.

I rest my head on mother Earth. She provided for my needs and rendered the energy I once so needed. I play with the deer and we have a good night’s sleep. Living in nature is what I deem life. Investing energy is what makes me slip on the peel.

Faith is a non-critic. I have observed him appreciate Religion despite all his flaws, but once I saw him whispering to Religion. Probably, he was reprimanding him in personal for the sake of his self-esteem.

I pushed him again this time, and lost the energy.

I gave in. I was called a coward. Once more.


He lives in my neighbourhood, and doesn’t seem to care about his grades. I have seen Religion bribe him, but he is dumb enough to refuse. He’s the most independent of us all, and yet demands independence constantly.

You can see him kicked out of the house any time soon. He drinks all day. And then, for days more than one, he doesn’t drink at all. He thinks about thinking, and then dozes off.

Whenever I see him fight with Faith, I hide behind the curtain, and their conversation intrigues me a lot.

Faith (the one who always commences the fight-turned-convo)- You failed so bad in your semesters.

Philosophy keeps quiet. He likes to be quiet.

Faith (trying to sound helpful)- Don’t you have books? If no, I can lend.  

Philosphy- Thanks, bro. I don’t need your books.

Faith tries to reason.

Philosphy- They are plagiarized.

Faith- I bought them recently.

Philosphy smiles.

So do I.


It’s hard to resist her, and the good news is you need not resist her. She believes in free availability. I love everyone. She’s idle enough to be present everywhere, in everything.

But many do successfully resist her, till the last breath. But once the breath is over, they hear from her again. You can’t resist a nymph for seven births.

I have overheard her talking to herself at night.

I didn’t quite comprehend her, but learnt she is blind, and remains awake in her sleep and walks to and fro the room when everyone is asleep, with a knife in hand. She is a sleepwalker.

Chetanya Pandey
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