THE Question...

There is a question that has hovered beneath the surface of my brain for the longest time... I cannot recall who or what seeded the question, or when the first drop of its essence seeped into the exposed corners of my mind. All I know is that the question exists within me now, and has become a part of the mould that characterizes the innermost parts of me.

The question is simple, easy to reword, easy to understand, beautifully suited to compose lyrical stanzas from... The answer, however, is frustatingly abstract. In moments of drowning thought, I think that the answer will forever be out of reach... like the most luscious fruit that induces an outpouring of saliva, hanging just out of reach of the highest jump that one can make with the help of the most advanced technology known or unknown to us.

Why do we live? What gives us, puny wasteful humans, the right to existence? Why were we given such a wonderful brain, such amazing self-healing systems? What is the reason we strive to drag in each breath and survive another day? There must be something we are all searching for - some goal, some accomplishment, some knowledge that is beyond us - that pushes us to continue our evolution...

But the question is forgotten... it lies in the shambles of the gutters that we race past each day. It hides in forgotten corners, covered with cobwebs and rust. It is no longer brought out to the light of day, each day, lovingly polished, twisted this way and that, to see the light refract and reflect off it's seemingly impenetrable, mirrored surfaces. It is lost to us...

We run through each day - for what? We wake weary in the morning, robotically fuel ourselves, drive or ride the long long way to work (even if it is one road away), work... or rather... slave away at the same set of rules, create new innovations that do the same thing faster, as though by doing it faster we use the time gained to do something precious, go home, argue with our partners, shout at our kids, laugh a little but oh! forget the laughter in the minute worries that fill our meaningless lives... the small worries, the little doubts, the light stains, and the requisite sorrows, they have grown so large these days! Survival is taken for granted, we have more time on our hands than ever before, health is easy to come by with the swallow of a pill, the sunsets and mountains are plebian and meaningless... we search for monetary growth, career growth, personal growth through social elevation, we want our kids to prosper - how? with enough money so they want for nothing material...

Life has lost its meaning - in the search for money and security, the little joys are lost - the small worries are more important. And at the end of the day, what does it mean to have a bigger house, have clean floors and dishes but minute issues blown so big as to smother the joy away... what does it mean to save and save or spend on shoes and clothes and accessorize until the brain becomes a rusty disused organ which creaks so loudly when we are suddenly pulled out of our comfort zone that we fear to think about controversial subjects anymore - that we dismiss the abstract because we are so used to each line and curve being defined by those gone by before us - that we are unwilling to move out of our comfort zone to face new challenges in our thought processes or habitual needs...

Now, when the question surfaces, I am wearied, I fear the time taken away from my normal duties, from my regular activities... as though life can be seen through the microscope of my daily routine. I fear it as it will lead to disruption and arguments. I fear it because I desire it - I desperately seek the answer without conscious thought. I search through pages of fantasy, where the question is portrayed in each character's struggle, in each moment of change, in each turning of the page... I run away into the book and submerge to seek and find... But it's not external to me - this answer.

The answer is my religion. Not my faith, not my hindu upbringing, not my education. The search for the answer sets the path under my feet, makes me believe in karma, and dharma. It challenges the antennae that don't stop quivering in me, no matter the stagnation of my career or the mundane requirements of a new household, no matter the fights or the material gains that accumulate as part of my life's experiences... It fuels the heart beat and polishes the brain... It makes me believe in good and evil, makes me hunger to rewrite my philosophies in new words each time, makes me desperate to debate and reword, and pursue... always pursue...

We all need this. We need to get out of the stagnant corners of our lives and seek. We might be in Kali Yug, when the material things are so much easier to obtain than the philosophical, so much so that even the sages have given us the easiest path to moksha. Just do the Satynarayana Puja, they say... Just listen to the Krishna leela - and you will attain moksha - that divin freedom from the cycle of reincarnation. How is that so? It is not known. It makes me yearn to wait for the cleansing waters to drown us so that we are brought anew into a fresh universe, so that we can see with the eyes of our heart - watch the turtle bring the mighty vedas out of the water, tremble with excitement to see one of the great sages, instead of an actor, breathe in the pattern of the pranayam knowing that each breath is unlocking another mystery of the universe within ourselves without knowing exactly how, treasuring our lives so much that the question is the most precious thing to us...