As the moon glows melancholy on a starless night sky like a shining diamond on a black sheet... its beautiful but lonely. So I have to flip yet again another page of my book. I could have stayed on that page, it could have been so beautiful, but the story continues to another page... so I have to move on. I wanted God to lift the page for me but I guess, God doesn't want to lift even a finger. It is not that I'm losing my faith... no!... my faith in God is faithful. I trust God but I don't believe that He wants me to have my kind of story. I guess, God got tired of writing the same old stories with happy endings and so He thought of writing a tragedy.. and He choses me to play the leading role. God thought that this will be a great story and people will love love it... but the script is a tragedy... more tragic than Romeo and Juliet, more complicated than Tristan and Isolde, more painful than Jack and Rose. Being the chosen one is a blessing in the eyes of the viewers but it is a curse to the one who plays it. It is like burning your soul in the fires of hell so that others may reach heaven.
The chosen one.
I can't help but think that even Judas Iscariot was a chosen one. And being the chosen one, he never had the chance to say “NO!” … think of it... if Judas did not betrayed Jesus, we could have questioned the credibility of Jesus' prophecy that one of His 12 disciples will betray Him and he that dippeth his hands in the dish is the same person. If Judas did not kissed Jesus, there could have been no famous “Judas Kiss” and if that did not happen, Jesus could have passed the cross and did not die for our sins... there could have been no resurrection at all and maybe, we were never redeemed at all.
You see, Judas played a great role in the script of God. He was actually God's pawn in fulfilling the prophecy. People now are condemning Judas but what they do not know is that Judas only obeyed what God had told him to do so even if it cost him his own soul in hell, even if it cost him his name being condemned.
The truth is, if ever I get to heaven and meet Judas there... I won't be surprise. And I bet God will explain why Judas is up there... but I will be the first to tell him... “ I always knew you will be here.”
I bet people will think that this article is full of blasphemy but the point of this whole Judas thing is that we should not judge others because it is never our place to judge.
You judge a girl by the way she curls her hair and by the way she carries herself... but who are you to create such illusions of her identity? Who are you to create your own set of her character?
You are judging a book you never even tried to open... how could you know the story?
I don't give a damn... but don't provoke me.
The rain starts to pour hard gushing on the window pane... the water tastes like a saline. Like a gutter flushing all the rain to slide on the window pane... the window pane... they are my eyes.
Cool breeze and autumn leaves sets the view as I walked aimlessly, nonchalantly, and nowhere to go in the busy streets of the city. Trying to find an inspiration, something that will make sense out of all these insensibility. My lone pair of watchful eyes oversee the living. The tortured souls and unhealing wounds... I am one of them. But no tears could well in these pair of eyes because the paleness of the moon and the coldness of the night made it frost.
Stories are everywhere and so I am everywhere. And that makes me a person with no place to go. Do you know exactly the feeling of being everywhere? Of not having a place to go when you are tired and broken? You got no idea.
For a moment my ears got tired of hearing stories... their stories. Because they endure alone their own pains while I endure the sum of all their pains. It is making me numb and numbness is worse than the pain itself.
Stories are rare forms of poisons and antidotes. They could make you hope or leave you in despair. And being always with them, stories left me all alone in the middle between hope and despair. To hope is hard, to be in despair is painful, but not knowing what to do is the worst kind of suffering. The heart deceives even the very owner itself so who would know? Who could realize the right from wrong? The heart is the most poisonous thing on earth, hence, the heart starts and ends the story. And when the story ends... that is where I am... giving hope, telling everyone that every ending springs forth a new tale where hope lurks, and it is up to one's heart. Temptation leers when conscience fades. The heart only beats what it wants to beat... hope or despair? This heart screams in agony.
A story of a man who died on the day before his daughter's 25th birthday. He wrestled with the angel of death with all his might, holding on to that picture of his daughter in his mind. But angels are immortal, how could he defeat one? So I look for a reason to hope, that though he died in a time he wished he could still live and bring her daughter a nice gift, I told him - “ your gift to your daughter is already in her hands. Just a year from now she will become a good doctor and that is your gift to her... her future. The gift of healing.”
A story of a girl who begged for love but love sometimes come in a form of hatred. A man who redeemed himself through a heart of a poor girl. Everyone laughs at her shame and everyone salutes his glory. So I look yet again for a reason so I could give hope to that poor girl who now lives in shame. Whatever love throws at you, believe in it. There is nothing you can do. Better is the heart that gives love even though no one has ever loved back that a heart surrounded by love but doesn't know how to love. That is life...still life.
A story of a kid who loses his home from the recent calamity that hit the country. He asked me - “why does the sun go on shining like nothing happened? Why do people continue to live their lives and never cares that many people are dying and starving because of the drowning flood? Look at them, they continue to go to school, to go to their offices, to go to their work places. Why can't the world pause for a while and look at me?” So I look at him. He smiled and said - “ I'm glad you are looking at me, I'm glad you paused for a while and listened to me.” I raised my brow and said nonchalantly - “ I did not pause for you. I am one of them who continued living our lives like nothing happened yesterday. I am looking at you not for you but for myself... don't you get it? We are a bunch of selfish beings. You think we are selfish for not looking at you but did you ever thought that you too are selfish for wanting everyone of us to look at you?... and yet, did you ever look for someone else too?” The kid was in a moment of shock.
So I look again for a reason to give him hope - “ The sun shines like nothing happened yesterday because God wants you to continue to live your life, He wants you to face another day and another day so you could pick up all the broken pieces of your life. Life never ends yesterday, life continues for as long as tomorrow comes. The sun shines not because it doesn't care at all but because God cares and He wants you to rebuild what the yesterday has destroyed. Happy moments become evil when they are gone, but that doesn't mean you can never have happy moments again. Remember, some lessons cannot be taught, they must be lived to be understood. That is wisdom.”
I left the kid pondering.
Cool breeze and autumn leaves sets the view as I walked aimlessly, nonchalantly, and nowhere to go in the busy streets of the city. Trying to find an inspiration, something that will make sense out of all these insensibility. My lone pair of watchful eyes oversee the living. The tortured souls and unhealing wounds... I am one of them. But no tears could well in these pair of eyes because the paleness of the moon and the coldness of the night made it frost.
The sun shines and it whispers hope - “ A faithful heart makes a wish come true”.
