Fatal Urge Carefree Kiss
From Heaven to hearth, the Hell is on Earth
“While an imperfect imperfection is partly perfect, a perfect imperfection is perfect in its’ own imperfection!!”
Warning: Contains graphic description of gory scenes. Recommended only for those allowed sex legally!
Note: Sex is the selling point, not content matter.
The beauty of human brain is in the effortless smoothness with which it performs its’ functions, right from our birth to our death, tirelessly, without stopping even when we are asleep. One of the many and varied functions of brain that we often call upon it to perform without realizing is, sieving facts from fiction. We humans have a strange liking for fiction, perhaps because it came much earlier than science. Maybe it has its’ roots in our dreams that even the first from our race would have had enjoyed, the very first time he would have slept. Wonder what the very first dream of humanity would have been? Perhaps a nightmare that Eve was a man! People think homosexuality is a problem, imagine how Adam would have explained the situation to Eve, what with language still in its’ developmental stages and no previous terms of reference available.
Religion and faith had long been the staple form of fiction for much of human story. In fact, it is hard to imagine any religion or religious leader without an associated volume of fiction. Now if only humans knew I wasn’t born but flew from outer space into my mother’s womb, and the day I was born, formation of a new Universe also started!
Anyway, my current topic is not about Universe for a change. Its’ just that, now having wandered so far into my familiar territory, I might as well write something utterly blasphemous.
As the entire world including scientific community and religious brotherhoods grapple with the question, “What lies beyond our Universe”, I am wrestling with an issue, entirely different. I am questioning, “Where is this Universe and what would have been there had there been no space?”
Perhaps the ultimate paradox, and the one you all can answer yourself would be, “What came first, GOD or space?”
I know the answer but neither is this world ready for it yet, nor do I want to answer the next question that would face me, were I to answer this one, the question, “Did prophets like Mosses, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Guru Nanak, and others lie to us?” All I can say for the moment is, “Prophets, Messiahs, Gurus and enlightened pure souls don’t lie, for any reason. Everything they do or say is a part of a bigger scheme of things.” But I am not the one supposed to give you all the answers. I am the one supposed to raise questions only. More blood is due to be spilled before humanity would figure out the answers it seeks today. However I can tell humanity, its’ existence hereon will hinge on the answers it will deduce. GOD does not have a form! Human body has no special significance for GOD! Even dinosaurs didn’t matter! There is no such thing as epitome of creation for the Creator!
A few days ago, at another location, I pointed out an incident of reference for humanity. I referenced the fact as to how humanity has been pumping out oil and digging out coal for over a century now. The question I designated to be unimportant was, “How much amount of flora and fauna got stacked under Earth that after so many years we are still getting oil and coal in lumps, and our usage has only multiplied?” The real question as I pointed out at that time was and still is, “How did all that organic matter got buried so deep under, not just soil but, rock?” What’s important is not the time period since the dead organisms got buried, but the amount of soil and rock needed to bury them so deep. Do you realize how much soil and rock would have to be added on to the Earth, or removed from one location to another to bury them instantly without or with incomplete decomposition, thus maintaining the neutrality of much of the Earth’s altitude?
So what exactly am I writing this piece about? What is it about heaven, hearth and Hell that holds my attention to the current chain of thoughts?
Growing up in a GOD fearing family and an overly religious society, I couldn’t have been left untouched by the mythology associated with every religion being followed in the community I grew up in, least of all, the fiction associated with each one of them. Only problem is, for a questioning mind, fiction is an ideal substrate for the fungal invasion of thought, contemplation and critical evaluation.
Although many myths about every religion are nothing but exaggerated statements of creativity, some do present an unmistakable finger-print of their origins from our own worldly realities. One of the commonest myths of Hinduism and Sikhism is, if you do bad deeds, your souls have to suffer the pain and ignominy of living through various life forms for your next ‘Eighty Four Hundred Thousand’ lives. The basic premise here being the unknown entity, referenced as soul in various religious texts, the one that makes a mass of cells living or dead by its’ presence in or absence out of it, is immortal, hence transferrable from one body to another. Given the fact there are ‘Hundred Thousands’ of plant and animal species, it is not hard to grasp the origins of this part of the religious puzzle. It was how religion hard sold its’ ethics and fear amongst the masses that followed faith, thus giving the complete control of the masses into the hands of the intelligent few who ran houses of GOD. It is a similar story in every religion!
However, an even more enduring yet scary, appealing and appalling, intriguing but invading, concept to come out of our religions has been their most potent selling point, the Devil and his hell, a place where we all are supposed to head to once we perish, if we don’t follow our religions to their exact words, disown and discontinue sinful behaviour, mend our ways, and share in kindness. Most religions paint a similar friendly portrait of Mr Devil, and describe with equal élan and elegance his beautiful mansion called ‘Hell’. Let us just revisit some of the highlights of Mr Devil’s princely state.
We are told how Mr Devil is a mean and cruel man, very dark in colour, either red or black, with a sharp spear or trident in his hand, an evil grimace and over bearing stature. His princely state is no less overpowering in beauty. While the palace stinks, the evil souls are fixed to the ground, surrounded by slimy dirty water and infested by worms that dribble along the floor. The scorching heat sets the air inside literally on fire. Such hotness can in some instances be replaced by a spine chilling freeze. And then there are Mr Devil’s assistants, monstrous as they are in their appearance that, along with Mr Devil, mercilessly chop off the limbs and pieces of the souls, and then devour them. Sometimes when fed up, Mr Devil and his assistants mercilessly chop off the heads of the souls before mercilessly bludgeoning their bodies against hard rocks. At other times the souls are boiled before being fed to a demon, as dark as night, with horns rising out of its’ head and a menacingly dancing tail at its’ back. Few of the most sinful ones’ are even forced through the minute holes at the ends of the stitching needles. If sins are awful, their punishment’s atrocious!
But why go to such lengthy extents detailing a fiction so deeply embossed on human psyche world over? Well, I may not be supposed to answer the questions humanity needs to figure out answers of, I do have an obligation to help humanity discover the truth, just to give it a fair chance at survival. So here in this piece I am going to explain the origins of the fiction associated with “The Devil and his hell” so that humanity can figure out the reasons for the birth, promotion and propagation of its’ fictitious existence.
Let me start with an example of a paddy and a wheat field. At the start of the summers or autumn, depending upon the crop, a hard working farmer tills, ploughs and irrigates his fields so as to ready it for prisoners he is subsequently going to subject to torture every day. Paddy, originally germinated and cultured in a nursery, is planted in standing water. Now just imagine the life history of the rice and wheat plants from there on, and extrapolate the example to the fate of the soul after death to realize how it explains the various facets of the fiction just mentioned above.
A rice crop bound to the ground from the feet, it grows in standing water, burning under the scorching sun during the day, just the night brining it some solace. Similar is the plight of poor wheat crops in general, with only differences being in their type of suffering. They have to withstand freezing winter every day with little respite of limited warmth under the sun, its’ suffering multiplying with the freezing winter temperatures. There is nothing to keep it warm, and the chill is merciless. It is subjected to the freezing effects of fog, settling mist, and cold chilly rains.
Their feet surrounded by worms and maggots that crawl all over their bodies, some even feeding bits off them, these crops can do nothing except suffer in silence as they live through the stink of the dung and decaying manure that fills their surrounds all the time. When they have suffered their initial punishment, the time arrives for their final subjugation. A farmer, pleased with his efforts, looks at the ripe field menacingly, grinning from ear to ear and ready to mercilessly chop the poor crops with sharp edged weapons, cutting and tearing with no emotional attachment at all for the crops he so willingly and laboriously subjected to persecution in his field. His eyes are full of practical un-attachment!
The plant heads are mercilessly chopped off by the cruel impact of a sharp brute force by a man, who depending upon his tan has either turned red or dark under the sun. With their heads already lost, the rest of the bodies of the poor crops are then chopped into smaller pieces to create fodder which is then mixed with green crops and fed to the demons of varying colours, like black for the buffaloes, each of which have four arms (or feet if you like), a tail dancing menacingly behind, and two horns growing out of their heads. What is then finally left standing of the poor crops, with no chance of escaping or running away from their fate, is either mercilessly crushed under the weight of ploughs and harrows as ground is dug open and flattened, or are set alight by the cruel farmer.
With their suffering still not finished, the heads of the poor crops that were chopped off earlier are then thrashed mercilessly under brute force to pull their skulls out of their skin. The skulls are then sold like cattle to other Devils that either boil them in water and feast on them merrily, sprinkling them with spices and salt, and mixing them with curries or other culinary, or crush them under the weight of stones into fine powder and then knead them into a gelatinous mass which is subsequently roasted on fire and eaten.
Now if you think the sufferings of poor rice and wheat crops are too torturous, let me assure you, they are still a thousand times better than trees. Trees suffer not just scorching heat, but even freezing chill, for not just a stretch of time, but rather decades. Their limbs are mercilessly chopped off and set alight while they suffer in silence, fixed to the ground. Devils and demons pick holes in them, pierce them at will, micturate on their bodies and pick their progeny, feasting on it. They suffer their punishment till they dry up, still standing where they were, when their bodies are mercilessly chopped and set alight, or converted into in-animate objects that are subjected to manipulation for further more years.
Who says Hell exists at any place other than Earth? I haven’t even yet mentioned how even humanity lives in stinking slums, suffering disease, torture, hunger and vagaries of nature. For them hell is where they already are! And then there are those who can feed, wear, drive and enjoy whatever they want to. For them this is Heaven!
It’s time humanity realizes where, how and why all their myths came about to exist! Beyond this, I cannot help humanity any further. I cannot answer your questions for you, for that is your prerogative.
Enjoy “Fatal Urge Carefree Kissing” Amanpreet Singh Rai..
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