A God for Me…

When I was little, my mother used to hold my hand and take me to temples. She had some faith in God, and that faith had transferred to me. However, as I grew taller, my faith in God grew smaller. It was not that I had lost all faith in God, just that I did not have the same faith that my mother had.

As I grew older, my thoughts became bolder. I still bowed my head at temples but it was more out of respect for my family’s beliefs and society’s culture. I was praying to a God I did not believe in. God never answered my prayers, or maybe he did and I am not aware of it. I do not understand this idea of God that the society follows. To be more precise, I doubt the forms and powers associated with God. Maybe there is someone who is watching over us, but I don’t think there i any point in asking for help. “God helps those who help themselves.”, this quote is what I believe in and what I follow. Although “God” has been referred to in the quote, the quote just means that we should put in the effort ourselves, without waiting for others. That is precisely what I do.

Why do I doubt the belief and faith the society has on God? I am not sure. I respect the belief the society has, but I don’t have the faith they have or the belief in the notion that “God will look after you.” I am not sure if I could be called an atheist, because I still think there may be a God, of form and with qualities that is completely different from how they have been perceived so far.

Then, what is a God for me? If God is a creator, for me that would be my mom. If God is a provider, for me that would be my father. If God is someone that gives hope, for me that would be my family. If God is someone that brings joy, for me that would be my friends. If God is someone strong, who helps others, for me, that is what I strive to be. So what about “the” God? He/She/They, for me, are probably busy doing their own thing.

So, I am still here, alive and well, and my choices of my beliefs has not betrayed me so far. My mom still makes me go to temples, but I do it now out of respect for her. I haven’t gone on a crusade to influence ithers and change their beliefs because it is their choice. I am happy with my decisions and have no regrets. Sure, I hit a few bumps here and there, but now I make an effort to get back on track myself, and not wait there, asking for help, and when things work out, it feels like an achievement. I see others searching for Gods in temples. A God for me, however, is in everyone around me.

I am sorry if this was not that good. It just felt wrong to abandon it after writing it down. Afterall, no writing is trash. So, be sure to like it, comment what you think, follow my blog  for more and share it.😊

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Silwal, The Vampire Slayer

Ashish Silwal looked at the old house in the distance. That old rundown house contained a special object, an armour, a prototype that could probably save humanity from their impending demise. It was the last hope, and it was his job to get it. However, there was a slight problem. Between him and the house, there was a hoard of vampires, thirsty for his blood.

Ashish took a deep breath. He was one of the few people who had been blessed with special powers when the vampires arrived. Nobody knows where the vampires or the powers came from, but no one had the time to ask as they were busy fighting the vampires. However, those with power were few, and humanity was facing defeat after defeat. So, in order to reverse this tide of battle, the humans had created an armour, but the vampires had taken hold of it. So, Ashish, as a member of the Special Corps., was assigned this mission of retrieving it, and he knew he could not fail.

The young vampire slayer took out his customized pistol with silver bullets. With a kick to the ground, he jumped in the air and started shooting at the vampires, guided by the moonlight. One by one the blood suckers fell. The vampires tried to bite him, but he was too fast for them. He kept shooting until he ran out of bullets. However there were still a dozen vampires left, and they quickly surrounded him. They thought he was doomed, but with a smile, he threw away the gun and took off his glasses. But this pair of glasses were peculiar, for the frame was made of silver.

Ashish winked at a vampire and moulded the glass frame into a dart. This was his blessing, his power. He could manipulate silver, one of the few weakness of the vampires. With a swing of his hand, the dart flew into the air, and in a flash, the remaining vampires were dead.

He walked into the house to claim his prize. He opened the chest in the centre of the hall. Here it was, the armour, humanity’s last hope. However, what he saw left Ashish speechless. There was no awesome way of describing the armour, for it looked like a raincoat.

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The Old Lady

The old lady sat on the footpath smoking a cigarette. In front of her was a piece of tarpaulin, and on top of it wad a big pile of gooseberries. She was sitting there to sell them, and this was her source of incomeher daily routine. She did not remember how long had it been since she started selling them on that footpath, but she knew it had been long. For she had been there when the giant building behind her was called the Royal Nepal Airlines Corporation, and it had been about ten years since the Royals were removed.

She used to sell gooseberries in Ason, the busiest place in Kathmandu, Nepal, for retail shopping. However she had to move because the local shopkeepers didn’t like her setting shop outside their doorsteps. She was walking away from that place, when she had discovered the giant building, and the bus park in front of it. The mass of people flowing in and out had motivated her to set up her makeshift  shop there. For some time her business bloomed. She didn’t have land to grow gooseberries, so she had to buy them in order to sale, but the profit was big enough for her to not care.

Many years had passed since those days. For some reason, the number of people in the bus park went up, but her customers went down. Forget the profit, she could barely make money needed to survive the day. On bad days, there were no customers at all, and she had to go to bed with an empty stomach. Today was one of those bad days.

She had been sitting in that bus park since nine in the morning, but her income was dead, so she should be mourning. She looked at the pile of gooseberries in front of her. It was not the best she had ever sold, but she did not have the money to buy better ones. It was getting late, and no matter how many people passed by, no one seemed to notice her. Dejected, she started packing her berries. Looks like her family would go to bed hungry today too. No, she thought. She had to manage some money, some loan, for she could not let her family down.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a young boy in a college dress. He seemed to be interested in the gooseberries. He asked if they were for sale. She apologised and said they were not that good. He said he didn’t mind, and bought some and walked away.

The old lady didn’t know where he came from, or where he would go, but she knew one thing, and that was, she had some money to take home.

(If you like my posts, remember to like them, share, comment what you think, and follow my blog for more. You are also welcome to connect with me on other social sites like facebook and instagram. Stay awesome. 😊)