before we ceased to not-exist, we thought life as we think of the death. we were unsure of what it had and what it held for us. we were frightened as we are of the life which awaits us. when we were little babies in our mothers’ wombs we didn’t know or we don’t remember that there is a life after a life after this life of ours. it is only when our little hearts beat for the very first time that we got an idea of existence from nothing. something from nothing, this is crazy, this can’t be true, angered, grieved, lost, thwarted, we kicked our mothers’ bellies and they felt us and they told our fathers about it, they said inside us are beings as real as we are. our fathers smiled may be with tears in their inner eyes for they are men, they wouldn’t cry.
I mean look at the seas, when seas were little babies inside their mothers’ wombs created out of nothing, they’d not have kicked in their anger about somethingness out of nothingness, they’d have stormed inside their mothers’ bellies. Look at the clouds which look like old men’s beards only moving or you can imagine, if you can, big white beards moving slowly in the sky as old men are with deep weary eyes and quivering hands.
And the sun, the sun, the sun, oh the sun, why so proud? why so angry? why this wrath? when you know that you were formed like us, like everything from that unimaginable, the amazing substance called ‘nothing’? Don’t you know this, oh the sun! And the time, oh the time, why so cruel? why such hurry? when you know that you are going to end, just like us, like everything you or us have imagined in our mutual lives? and the death, you yourself, yes you, why so happy? did somebody tell you that you’re immortal, that you will live, that you with your horror can end my centuries old existence? and dear rose, our dearest beautiful rose, why such vanity? when you know that the blood which keeps you fresh will lend itself to the earth, the hungry giant, forever? and the brain, my dear, can’t you think of anything else than the boring question of existence? when you know that I’m but a spark visible now, invisible for hundred eternities. one moment of happening and hundred eternities before and after it, does this proportion seem strange to you? answer me, dearest brain!
And Oh God, I request you from my heart , keep me near the truth, please, I beg of you!
A man stepped out of a tree trunk, all dirty and old and shook me, its time Safdar its time, you’ve to go remember, its April the third, you’ve the interview!