Theological and philosophical 1

Monologue of a Photon

May be to compound the derision of my sub-microscopic size, I am shot at a

colossal speed in the vast chasm of the space so that I can even not have a proper feel of
the surroundings and the self. I just sweep across, too fast to be noticed or to notice subtly
anything that comes in my path. The privileges to have a respite, to recline and to rest
have been snatched from me since my birth. My wings were in full swing when I started
understanding. I originated from an inferno in a star you can trace back to on my wake.
And we were zillions of us, burning in that voracious fire, scrambling for escape and
radiating along all infinite vectors and zooming into the space. Not knowing the
direction, the destiny and the purpose. How true of you too! But like a child gradually
discovers the novelties of his body and soul, I too started discovering myself.
Let me tell you first about my speed. I am hurled at the unknown at such an
enormous speed that it took me years together to come to myself and some more to get
accustomed to it. This speed has landed me in universe’s worst isolation and I am
traveling still deeper. The companions on the adjoining tracks have departed long back
and I am left alone and am drifting alone farther and farther in the fathomless abyss. I
remember my last companion on the neighborhood track deviating from me and soon
becoming invisible, never to be seen again. Are there many other photons like me,
traveling to other corners (?) of space, but a little luckier than me to have some company
on fore and aft? I was quite misfortunate in that I was an aberrational deflection from a
surface; cut off from the leaders and the followers. The fellows ahead of me got caught
into a gloomy planet in the path and when I was attempting to catch up with them at my
speed, I could not! I just missed it. And for an era of innumerable years I was leading a
pretty long queue of my brethren when we found that we, all of us, were going to get
salvation in the tail of an errant comet. But even this time, the comet was slow enough to
miss me! Me alone!!
I was in a kind of panic. Hey, where am I going to find some company? There
were those celestial bodies around and I just wished one of them endeared me and it
remained wish. One prays for some soul to rest in peace. But by that if you mean the
peace of my kind, in the corner of the universe with all broken communications, please
don’t pray! Solitude is the worst kind of punishment- what is imprisonment?-just an
award of forced solitude! It is frustrating to be alone- to be away from near ones or ones
who could potentially be made near. When I look back at the dim-lit sponge of the
universe from this extremity of it, the uneasiness devours my psyche. What is the end of
this journey? Is there an end at all? I have been traveling since so long and it all has been
meaningless. I will be reaching farther and farther- but to do what? Why am I being sent
on an abstract mission - to measure the infinite? What does that mean?
Am I imprisoned or am I at large? I may be traveling freely but all my motions
are bound by one or another limits. Am I indeed alone or there are accompaniments that
are transcendental to my faculties?
What is the ulterior motive of the Creator behind this scrimmage? Why has he
created such an immense space? Calling it immense would also undermine its expanse.
Infinite would be the apt phrase. Why has he created the stupendous material bodies in
that? Why has he littered them in it in a haphazard manner all over? What is the purpose
of the Creator in churning this mass along so diverse of paths, with so wide ranging
Theological and philosophical 2

speeds and directions? All thoughts are maddening. And something that is dearer to my
heart – why has he chosen this shape, this size, this mélange of characteristics and
ultimately this fate for me?
Probably life is not about questioning but about accepting the obvious. It’s quite
easy to ask questions and it’s crazy to find the answers. One may have a lot of
inquisitiveness but the Creator least bothers to address that. How much we can think
about the obvious and the abstract? One can devote oneself to the chores of life and
during an odd bit, tired of the chores, may question the intent of the exercise one is going
through in life. Not finding the answers and above that not getting an escape from the
chores is certainly vexatious. Here I would love to narrate you a story of an ancient
Gurukul1. Those were the days when human race had managed to look beyond mere
sustenance and the questions like “Who am I?” were started being raised. An erudite
philosopher was well renowned for his discernment of the purpose of genesis of universe
and the mechanism of its operations. And he had a scholar, call him Ninad2, very
inquisitive about the purpose and reasoning of human existence studying under him. The
scholar would pester the Guru repeated asking him about the purpose of life and
reasoning behind the pattern in which it is lived. The Guru never answered his questions
and bandied them among fellow scholars. The scholar got detached from life, from its
beauty and its ugliness, from its appeals and repulsions, from the force of nature on it and
also from his own …..that might have been….influence on the surroundings. He thought
it otiose to associate himself with the verisimilar obligations of one’s existence and
associated volitions. His life was very different for others and very difficult for himself
and he resembled my alter-ego, an isolated photon, on the crowded and busy planet.
He finished studies, albeit purposelessly and it was the time to pay the Guru his
Dakshina3. The Guru required him, only him among the 200 odd pupils who got away
with dispensation of some small obligation, to go to a remote backward town in the
kingdom and live with a renowned shoemaker’s family for 6 years and outdo the
shoemaker in his own art. Ninad was a man of his words and very soon he started out for
shoemaker’s village. To his dismay, the shoemaker had not heard of the Guru and could
employ Ninad only for carrying out trivial work in exchange of two meals a day. There
was no value of Ninad’s learning at the Gurukul. The shoemaker’s family was happy and
loving but the “class” of living was conspicuously shabby from his family or Gurukul.
Ninad was asked to scout for dead animals around the nearby villages in the beginning
and soon he was involved in all elements of the process of tanning a hide into good
quality leather. In the early days of his presence at the shoemaker’s place, he learned to
manage the commotion out of the conflict between his mental orientation and his
surroundings. He had to carry out the promise made to Guru without any grudge and fuss.
He could not afford to let his invisible disinterest in life affect his promise of excellence
in making footwear. The family of the shoemaker extracted a good amount of labor from
him but did have a non-manifested understanding of mental struggle Ninad was putting
up and had a very kind heart for him. Tanning of hide required rigorous labor and slowly
Ninad developed a good understanding of the animal lives, animal skins, preservation of
hide, designing and decorating the shoes and sandals. He learned to withstand the stench
1
Place where pupils stayed under the tutelage and guardianship of a Guru at his Kul (place) away from
family to study the scriptures, sciences and arts.
2
Literally means a loud, reverberating sound.
3
The voluntary gift given to the Guru at the time of convocation, not necessarily defrayal.
Theological and philosophical 3

of rotting animals, the pressure of working till late nights when deliveries were required
to make in urgency and everything that a good tanning job entails.
Time passed as the night passes during the sleep. Six years were finished and
Ninad fulfilled the promise he made to his Guru. He was now a renowned shoemaker in
the area. One day Ninad got an order for making sandals from a Saint who was passing
by the village. The Saint has asked the actual shoemaker to hand over the sandals in
person. Ninad knew it was his Guru. Ninad obediently handed over the sandals to the
Guru and stood in a bowed position in front of him. Guru Said, “Ninad, your six years of
service with the shoemaker are finished. You have delivered what you promised me.
Now you can go home and lead your usual life.”
Ninad said, “Guruji, I do not want to go home. I have discovered the answers of the
questions I asked you during my stay here. I want to continue my life here because it is
here that I discovered the meaning of life. We all are sons of the Creator and we are like
Him. He is not sick to hide the secrets of this Creation from us. It is our failure in
appreciating the obvious.” Guru was happy to see the unnerved disciple back to normal.
Ninad invited the Guru for his marriage with the daughter of the shoemaker who found it
very difficult to take her eyes off the sturdy sinews of Ninad.
My story is no way different. Why should I think that life is meaningless? Why should I
believe that life has no objective? The Creator has an explicit intention to mimic his own
qualities through his creation. Thus each of his creation is endowed with infinite might. It
is the abject failure to discern this power that brings misery in life. Even as a diminutive
photon thrown out of universe I behold the might to pull the universe to me, to destruct it
where it is, to create my own universe or communicate with it with transcendental senses.
The path that the creator has chosen for me must have a meaning, a beautiful meaning
and I should know that meaning in my own way or at least I should tread the path
peacefully as I already know how to do it. And if see that the God’s creation is not in the
proper shape, I am going to stop and turn back and show the direction of enlightenment
to the universe with my yogic prowess. I challenge everyone here-“Who is there to
belittle me, an abject photon?”