All those who search for meaning in life somehow lend credibility to the existence of God. Here's why.

A scientific mind (who I assume likes to explain everything without involving God) would argue that the only essential parts in the life cycle of an organism are the ones that help it survive and propagate as a species. These basic functions are the usual eating, sleeping, taking a dump, reproducing, and protecting the young ones from danger. The only 'purpose' in their life should be their survival. Indeed, most of us believe this to be true for bacteria, ants, birds and lions. But when it comes to humans, well, then it becomes a different ball game.

If the science that applies to bacteria, ants, birds and lions applies to humans too, why should they bother about anything other than the basic survival functions? Why should humans search for meaning in life and not just be content with simply surviving the 60-odd years they're alive for? The fact that things like love, hate, pride, respect, honesty and jealousy - things which can only be felt and do not exactly relate to survival - exist, and sometimes become more important than survival itself, indicates that there's more to the human life form than the question of survival.

This is where I lose the plot. If human species is different from other life forms in terms of survival being the sole/central purpose of life, then who/what caused it to be this way? God?

Silence grows heavy on you. You just want to shout into the sky so loud and so long that you can't figure out if it is your voice or your hearing that has left you.

"His ability to be detached.. to look at everything objectively.. no emotions. He will always perform well.."

"By not getting attached isn't he missing out? On life?"

"The things he will achieve. The things he dreamed of. Vineyards. Greece. Alaska. He'll be very rich."

"Will he enjoy these things alone? Will he not want to share? How he felt in Alaska? How was the Greek yacht ride?"

"If he thinks about sharing right now, he won't probably achieve any of this. He'll break down."

"And if he sets out alone, knowing he can't share what he goes on to achieve, will that be achievement at all? Will he not lose the drive and just.. quit?"

"He does realize it won't mean much alone. But what else is he supposed to do?? He can control objects. He can't control how people think."

"This is sounding like a loser's memoir. What if someone reads?"

"Like he cares?"

"Will he ever be at peace? Not haunted by past? Not haunted by how things could have been?"

"Go on, paint your rosy picture. Truth is, even you don't know how things could have been. And you, just wait and watch. Look at where he came from. Look how far he has come. Look where he'll go from here. You just wait and watch."

I am the clown.

I smile even as my world crumbles.

Bigger the pain, broader my smile. Broader my smile, bigger the pain.

Whatever.