It's right in front of me, right above my head - the flawless sky who smirks for being there for years and not wearing out. It nags me on looking older every day, I'm ugly - It is beautiful. I'm adorned with hair and dirt, looking straight at the sk...
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It's right in front of me, right above my head – the flawless sky who smirks for being there for years and not wearing out. It nags me on looking older every day, I'm ugly – It is beautiful. I'm adorned with hair and dirt, looking straight at the sky which is blushing for being bejeweled with moon and stars – deep inside, I know that it possesses a lot more than me.
I wonder why I can't reach the level, while still being able to disrupt the daily schedule of this world. I've been rated the highest among the creations, I have the brain and strength – but when I jump, the sky laughs and belittles my ego. It even enjoys the sight of birds, flapping their wings to a certain height until they glide and glide back to where they started. I tried hard once more and built a bird from scrapes of metals, it flies far more fasted and higher than the birds but it's still not there – the level I anticipate.
I tried harder; collected money, raised awareness, went to places I never expected. I built the best I could. I call it the rocket. I'm glad I invented that, it made me look back at the sky and tell the ever-happy sky that I'm going to get you.
I finally flew past the threshold, I left behind a sphere with hope and chaos. I looked to my right – to my left; all I could see was the sprinkled herd of stars – I was standing in between the threshold of light and dark. My ride swam around the places I could reach; the gleaming, moon – the warmth of sun on my face was different. So was my inner peace! It never met me, why am I not satisfied? I thought for a long time; from gliding upside down in the space, to my voyage back to earth. The sky, the nightmare; it still laughs!
It made me quit the tries, I saw my chances drown down the drain. Sometimes quitting is necessary for realizing the truth; a more vivid truth of reality. I quit for a long time before realizing that the inner peace was not there above in the skies but in something else.
My people have tried hard in reaching the highest points of this land. We even managed to build homes on the snow-shrouded mountains and feel proud of it. Proud? What pride is in boasting about something which was started with an aim, a vision and a goal – and ended up in a masterpiece of glory, an achievement to be proud of?
It clicked, a lot more than once in my chest. It wasn't my heart – it was the pride inside me. The pride of craving mountains, of building metallic objects which can fly, the voyage of passing the threshold of stratosphere and coming back safe with tales to tell. We boasted, we wanted to become better than others. I, being an arrogant cluster of dust, still want to go beyond the level which the sky always exhibited; but I know I won't.
It takes me back to the time when Pharaoh asked his minister to build tall structures so he could peek over the skies; to prove himself to be a god. He built them, the largest of pyramids – felt proud of them and met his end in the deepest of waters, down in the sea. The only part of him being lifted up was a lifeless, floating body. Pride engulfed him as it engulfed my inner peace. It tells me about the reality, the emphasis of being humble, in my beliefs and achievements. Is it really me doing all this? The good and bad? Or am I functioned accordingly to do this, for the earth to face revolutions, the chaos and happiness? If that's so, then what I have achieved is not o my hard work. I was made to do this – I was expected to be grateful.
Just like how a Sufi empties the cup of his heart to fill in, the love of his creator, my creator – Your creator. He does nothing but wait patiently for his world to revolve around while I revolve around a stationary world of mine, I run behind the things which are running away from me; the time, the age and the filthy, green paper. How I realized that the good soul goes up in the heavens and the treacherously arrogant ones are pushed down the core of this land.
I sometimes smile at the sky being dull and veiled under the sun, it covers her beauty and encourages me to work more for an eternal abode of skies. The realization of reality tells me that there is a time, a space and a requirement to win from the sky above me, which is one of many skies which have plenty of space for me to live and cherish their beauty; colorful galaxies and the beauty of a newly demised star.
Sometimes, debilitation is not deliberated!
Note: This essay was originally published on The Scribbled Kite: http://thescribbledkite.com/essays/why-not-skies-by-abad
