Thinking about Judas

Disclaimer: This is just a running thought in my head. I'd like your views, requests for clarifications, etc. I will bring this back, reworked, as and when I do rework it. I've posted the Free Will part below, but it doesn't bear much relevance to this thought. This thought concerns the existence of hell, and who the souls are who fill it. For the record: I believe in God; I do not believe in organised religion.

There is good and evil in this world. Maybe it's not all black and white, but it exists, in greys. There is a god. And God exists somewhere in our minds, or our souls. Maybe heaven exists there too. We're advocates of good, so we believe that we will go to heaven for our good deeds. And others, with their bad deeds, will go to hell.

These bad people, who do bad things to us, they must be hell-bound.

People who have a problem with absolutes---well, the smart ones, not just the posers---have a problem with the idea of heaven and hell. Everyone has reasons to do what they do. So how can what they do be wrong? In most cases, they do it with the intent of saving themselves, not necessarily with malicious intent. So why would they go to hell? Well, in all likelihood, they wouldn't. They'd beg forgiveness, spend some in-between time in purgatory and then go to heaven eventually.

But what about those who are truly evil? The ones who perform heinous acts against innocent poeple. Rapists, child molestors, serial killers. What about Hitler? If he was truly evil, he must have gone to hell, right? Unless free will doesn't exist. Because if what he did was pre-ordained by God, then why would God punish him?

He wouldn't.

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Alternatively, there is no good and evil in this world. Everything that happens, happens. People are bad sometimes, but they're essentially good. There are exceptions, of course, and they're usually mentally configured to do these things. They will not be punished by God, because God does not exist. If God does not exist, no one has any say about their actions. They are free to do as they wish. And they do. They kill, they rape, they molest, well, they hurt. We can't stop them before they do, just after.

TagMyDog

I've been tagged. By Gauri. First time. Ever.

There's just one person who I can attribute most of who I am today to. It's not that I was nothing before, but if she hadn't owned me for two years, I might've been a very different man today. I haven't found a woman who's compared to her since, and I've often told myself that I will probably have to make my peace with the fact that I might never.

Well, I digress. Gauri, you asked how that one person has changed me, well, here are five ways.

1. She introduced me to Damien Rice. Anyone who knows me, knows I have an unhealthy fascination with Mr. Rice. Every song he's sung, every live show he's played, every single note, every single strum. And Mr. Rice, in turn, led me down a different path musically. One I might never have taken. The acoustic guitar means all the more to me now. I will forever be indebted to her for this.

2. She got me singing. Okay, so I'm no you're-going-to-Hollywood contestant, nor even a you're-great-but-you're-just-not-good-for-this-show. But I like singing. It could be that all of my fans (read: me) think that singing is the best thing I could've started doing. But it's probably not that, it's more likely just a release and that's something I'm glad she got me doing too.

3. I've met a lot of new people thanks to her. This was mostly because I always ended up hanging out with her friends, not she with mine. It was an exercise in socialising. I'm less the introvert for that.

4. She got me reading again. It was something I'd left behind, resigning myself to more TV than I could handle. And she got me on a blog. : )

5. She convinced me that I wasn't all the 'good guy' I thought I was. And that it wasn't a bad thing that I wasn't. I used to pick and choose my memories. Keep the ones where I come out looking clean, and throw away the ones where I do bad things. Well, I won't say I've changed this completely, but it's definitely work in progress. And I'm a little more careful with people's feelings now; I don't have the liberty to pick what I remember now.

So there you go. Now I tag.
Phish
missA
Mystique
Apu

Log to Blog I

Domesticated

Call me Timmy. Tommy. Rocky, or any other name you would choose for me. I am your property. You have spent money to own me. I am your pet.
Domesticated.
Because you have domesticated me.
Thrown me your tripe, the scraps off your table.
Domesticated.
Chained by you. Because you need to know where I am and exactly what I am up to.
You would not want that I find out for myself how good your food tastes. God forbid I did; I might want more. I might not accept your scraps. I might, instead, demand that you spend more time and effort in feeding me. And you must feed me, for you have domesticated me.
Were I still the wild animal I was born, or the wild beast my ancestors were, I might have been able to fend for myself. Hunting for my own food, depending on myself alone for my survival.
But I am not.
I am, instead,
domesticated.
I live a life of domestication at your hands.
So then, I implore you, treat me with respect. I still am a living being. I am as much in need of nourishment as a wild beast. I do not complain that my ability to fend for myself has been pried from my hands. But I resent that you have ignored your responsibility to compensate me for my loss.

Knowledge is my food. And you, media, my irresponsible master.

The search has ended. The deed has been done.

Okay, so it took me longer than I thought.

Here's the problem: There's not that many good places to buy pens in this city. Went to the Crossword bookstore in Bandra first. They have a small, rectangular box which has a few Lamy pens. Turns out, the guy who comes with the small, rectangular box is quite daft and ill-informed. I mention Safari or AL-star, he tells me, "Sorry, we only sell Lamy and Cross." I say, "Okay, but those are LAMY brands." And then I walk out.

Went to InOrbit Mall next, where I remembered seeing a Just Linc store a long time ago. Turns out they started selling clothes there, or something else, not pens (allow me to clarify, no Just Linc). So I went to Crossword in InOrbit. With an equally sized, rectangular box as the Bandra outlet, and an equally daft and ill-informed man who was actually hard to find; he wasn't standing next to the equally sized, rectangular box. His reply of "Sorry, we only sell Lamy and Cross," to my query of AL-star or Safari nearly got him his head bitten off. By me. He mentioned a store to the left, on the right, outside Shoppers' Stop (where Crossword is located in InOrbit). I walked outside, calmly, took a left, looked right, saw this William Penn store, which seemed far to rich for my poor pockets. Besides, I wasn't looking for a Mont Blanc or a Sheaffer, or even a Cross.

My next option was the Crossword store at Kemp's Corner, recommended by a friend who said that they had better informed staff manning the counter there. No small, rectangular boxes, no daft, ill-informed salesmen. So I make my way there. And as it turns out, the counter there is 'William Penn' and they haven't sold Lamy for a while. I maintain my composure (you should be proud of me for that!) He informs me that there is this Just Linc store in the Crossroads 2 Mall at Nariman Point.

Against my better judgement, I rush there that very evening, only to find that while most other stores were open, the Just Linc store was shut. And through the glass display, I saw my pen-to-be. Oh she was beautiful. So close, and yet...so very, very far.

But I persisted. I knew this was the place where I'd get what I wanted. So last evening, I left work early, just to make it to Nariman Point before the store shut. And I did. And I walked in, my nerves tingling, hoping so badly that I wouldn't be let down again, scared by the journey I'd taken since I'd made up my mind to buy that pen.

I said Lamy. The salesman said Yes. I said Safari or AL-Star. He said Yes. I said Extra Fine or Fine nib. He said Yes. I asked Can I try it out before, just to check how thin the nib is? He said, Sure, why not? I said, I'll take this one. He said, Sure. He asked, which colour would you like? I said Black. He said Yes. He asked, Would you like a converter with that? I said Yes. I asked Do you have ink as well? Salesgirl said Yes. She asked Which colour? I said Black. She said Of course. I bought my pen, my converter and my ink, and I walked out. Pleased as ever. This had gone by just perfectly.

So here you go people, have a look. Pen Ink The converter you can have a look on the Pen page, under accessories.

Btw, she writes like a dream.

And I've already written something. Will post as soon as I type it all up.