Looking Through the Window

 I sat to write a story. But nothing was coming in my mind. I scratched my head with my fingers but it didn’t work. Neither did the restless short walk along the length of my room that I usually prefer while I try to concentrate. At last, I sat again. I turned my head right, with my index finger between the gap of my upper lip and nose, and clutching a pen between middle and index finger. I looked out of the window, with only one wooden-pane open. I could see the blue sky with not even a dot of cloud. I couldn’t think of anything I could write of. It was like my brain was jammed and I wasn’t able to move my plot, characters, feelings, sentiments and all others towards a common destination that would make up a story. But, the instant glance though the window drifted my mind from my ‘to be written’ story to something else. I felt that the one feet wide and three feet long opening was trying to tell me something; probably a story. But, not of the kind that I write or other fiction writers do. But rather, a different one – a story of existence, survival and realization.

 Once upon a time there used to be nothing and suddenly at some point of time the things began to appear. The sudden appearance in itself was a mysterious phenomenon that created all the things out of nothing or in other words it brought the meaning of existence in light. The phenomenon was not only the key to the creation but also raised a major question concerning the need for the existence. But, if it were to be up to existence only then certainly the question itself wouldn’t have existed either. Unfortunately, existence was not the ultimate thing to happen. The happenings or the series of events that followed the existence not only made the question to exist but also made it to seem more and more prominent. Existence only was not sufficient for the completeness of existence itself. Rather, it needed something that could realize it and give a meaning to whole of the creation. So, the need then created such an environment wherein the existence could be realized and explored. Such an environment was only possible through survival. Survival traced a path that could lead towards the ultimate realization of the existence. In a way, survival made the perception of various components of the creation possible. Without survival nothing would have existed. On the long run, realization started to breed along and within the survival. Different sort of realizations began to appear varying among various kinds of surviving components. Among the diversity, the significant thing that happened was the maturity, that is, the broadening of the extent of the realization. The increasing maturity hinted towards a pin point – that the creation wants something to be realized. 

How near the quest reached the final realization? And what if the ultimate thing that needs to be realized is finally realized? Would it mean the end of this creation and beginning of a new phase, or something else? I never realized these things before and now leaving apart the characters, plot, sentiments, feelings and whatever, I continually looked through the window and asked myself – being one of the most intelligent surviving components how far have I realized myself or the things around me? And most of all, how much do I know about the whole of this creation?