of beginnings n ends...

A spark of god , is the earliest answer I had got when I had woken up one night suddenly throwing my hands and feet around asking myself who am I . A spark… a tiny spark with light, energy, color, vibration and sound. Is that me? For a moment I agreed, I was very young then, very negotiable. But then where does god come into the picture..if I am a spark of god , then god must be made of a million sparks and nothing more . Then why worship him, hes like us, like me, like you. If I choose I may try to communicate with him, if I choose that is, and he must choose a relationship with me too. It is contractual then, like every thing else. We strike a deal, do we? If that’s true then it is trivialized like other mundane negotiations of life, ordinariness creeps in again. Not that I have any enmity with the ordinary, I have no special relationship with it. Its strange that I have mastered the art of neutrality at least in some sphere (a worldly asset for a not so worldly person, an absolute attribute). Again coming back to god and me, I have often wondered why my existence has always been explained as a creation , why in terms of god . Why would he create me , the grand master , what benefits would he have ?. And if he did create me , did he also create the millions of thoughts that blaze my mind every day , did he create my smiles and my tears as well , is nothing my own ? ………….

The images that I have loved and tried so hard to capture for my self , in my eyes , my soul , did god create that as well . ? The soul has often interested me , I think when my father had told me that im a spark of god he had referred to this thing called the soul . They say that it goes out of the body when one dies . A scientific experiment conducted in the USA put a dying person in an air tight coffin , within moments a ball of fire like thing broke through the glass . They called it the soul . I wonder if the same fire like thing will pass my body too when the biological process of death happens to me . May be my fire is pink, may be I throw up ice , may be my soul is icy …….
Now if at all there is a soul , then what will it do without the body , will it drift along on misty flats , lonely and of no worth . Will it exist just for the sake of existence , why will it make such a bad choice if that consciousness is really conscious . Perhaps the secret lies in the idea that consciousness is above emotion but to me it is emotion . Emotion is consciousness , devoid of it is not detachment , it is hollowness . .who am I again ..words are easy to use sometimes , but do I understand when I say I , I centre myself down , I reduces the radius of my existence because then im not you , im not a butterfly and im not so many other things which I could have been , I can be you , I can be a mother , I can be child and I can live a better life , qualitatively with more variety . My world of I on the other hand restricts me , it dictates and confines my range of thoughts and emotions . I is therefore restrictive. The spark of god is limited , will god still own it ..is it still a spark of god . Therefore, I am …I live on …this voice is mine , a result of a process of evolution and not sheer miraculous creation . Miracles belong to this world, I wonder why we make them so special, I wonder why we have a word such as miracle in our language. Is it about mere frequency of occurrence of any event , if something occurs once in a million years it is miraculous …may be it is sheer probability , co incidence , contingency . My existence could be just contingency, which I think it is …I could have been someone else, some thing else . …I wish I was a tiny dark blue bird against the light blue sky …but I cannot be that because I am I …….