A word of warning: This is an unorthodox post. If you are not into theological philosophy (and human psychology), this is the time to close this page. If you find this post offensive, read the note at the end.
This post in no way represents my own personal feelings or beliefs, I'm a practicing Muslim... It is simply a work of fiction, narrated by an atheist protagonist.
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Was it all in vain? Is this really the end?
Questions that course through a victim's head... one who regrets his choices. As I sat there, silently forsaking everything I thought I'd stood for, I wondered whether my precious logic or reason would come to my aid now. Can one pray to logic, I wonder? I would have laughed out loud if it wasn't for the whole "imminent death" thing.
I am not a religious man. I've never been the guy who prays or does anything remotely spiritual. Yes, I was born to believe that there is a God and that we should worship him, but I never really understood why. If there is an all-powerful creator of the world we live in, does he really need the insignificant sniveling of little old me- less than a spec of dust to a blue whale on the scale of the universe? Why would my prayers matter? I can't make God grant me my wishes... and what's the worst I can do if he doesn't answer my prayers? Sulk in an insignificant corner in an insignificant room in an insignificant country on an insignificant planet in an insignificant galaxy? Oh wow, that's powerful. What would compel such an all-knowing entity to help me with my daily struggles?
And the opposite is true. I found it hard to believe that such a deity would care whether I worshiped Him or not. Why would He smite me with the wrath of a thousand lightning bolts just because I failed to pray? Surely He would have bigger concerns than myself? Does He have a desire for control? Small chance of that; a God transcends urges and desires...
Then there was the obvious; pain and suffering and war and famine in every corner of the globe. The premise that every religion is based on is that God loves us and wants us to lead happy lives, yet the world has only seen a few decades of peace in the last two millennia. If an all-powerful being were capable of stopping that, why is He blind to the cries of his creations? And if that were the case, would humanity owe Him obedience, or defiance?
The religious texts didn't help; each was as unbelievable as the next. One man gathered all the known animal species in the world on a single boat which survived a disastrous flood? A man walked on water, and came back from the dead? A man lived inside a whale? Whenever I asked too many questions about these events, I was always told to take it on faith; that the whole point of faith is that there is no proof. I was told to protect my mind from such blasphemous thoughts, lest I forsake my religion. That was the last straw... A deity who controlled my very thoughts was not a welcome addition to my adult life, and so after giving it a lot of thought, I decided I was an atheist and embraced my new life-style on my 28th birthday. It wasn't much of a change, really... I'd already been an atheist at heart for years and hadn't practiced any of my religion's teachings, I just hadn't had the courage to openly admit it to myself until then.
Seven months after that fateful decision saw me fastening my seat-belt on a flight to London to attend an important meeting with my company's CEO. My life had completely turned around... I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. I had no restrictions, save for a flimsy moral code I'd made for myself. I answered to no one but me (and my boss at work) and partied as hard as anyone. I went home with a different girl every night, kicked her out before breakfast on the next day, went to work, then back home to change, then to the bar where I'd drink, smoke up and maybe snort some coke while I OD'ed on ecstasy or acid or whatever drug I had easy access to that night. Then I'd pick a girl I like (if I were still remotely sober), take her home and the cycle repeated itself. Being atheist didn't mean I had to be immoral, but I allowed myself a lot of freedoms I shouldn't have and I embraced the mistakes I made with a promise to make them again. It was the Neo-American dream, and I was soaking up every glorious drop of it. Now I was on my way to my company's headquarters, probably for a promotion and a big fat bonus cheque.
At least that was the plan...
Instead, halfway through the flight, the stewardesses started darting back and forth between the cabin and the cockpit, in an apparent hurry. Not long after that, the oxygen masks dropped, and people started panicking. Infants screamed; fathers tried to reassure their daughters while in desperate need of a hug themselves; and some people started hyperventilating and passing out. The Captain's grim voice suddenly cracked over the airplane's intercom: "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We have lost the right engine and will have to make an emergency landing while the left engine is still operational. We kindly ask that you remain seated with your seat-belts on and not panic. Our flight attendants will be passing by shortly to help you take the brace position. Thank you for choosing British Airways". Well, maybe he didn't say that last sentence, but his cocky British accent screamed it... I had a vision of the pilot wearing a monocle and a top hat while sipping tea, and I was just going to laugh when I realized I was probably going to die.
Right on cue, as if the left engine was following my train of thought, there was an explosion on my left and the plane took a nose dive. That was when I knew there was no way out of it. I would die, now. Time stopped.
Was it all in vain? Is this really the end?
I took a look at my three decades on Earth, and decided that I really didn't like how I used them. I didn't help anyone, I didn't have a family, I had no friends to speak of. What was the point of my life? Why was I born? This can't be it! Here I was, dying a thousand miles from home, and in two weeks after the news of my airplane crashing fade from the headlines, I would be forever forgotten... I had left nothing behind to speak of.
And that was when I started praying.
Through a haze of tears and cries and debris smashing through the cabin as we plummeted towards the ground, I started praying. Silently at first, but soon I found myself screaming my prayers at the top of my lungs, over the deafening roar of the engine and the rush of wind past my ears as the plane started disintegrating... perhaps I was hoping that maybe the louder I prayed the more likely I'd be heard. I internally resigned myself to either an eternity of nothingness, or an eternity of damnation... I was unsure which was worse. I hated myself at that moment. I hated my weakness.
I hated that I wished I'd made a different call, and maybe had more faith.
I hated that I secretly hoped there would still be life after death, even though I'd reasoned that they were just children's stories to teach them to cope with death.
I hated that I found myself praying to the very deity I'd forsaken years ago, hoping He'd take me back and forgive my sins.
I hated that my new Gods, Logic and Reason, had no way of saving me and I felt powerless to do anything about it.
But most of all, I hated my own hypocrisy. I'd been an atheist when it suited me, and now I was praying when there was something to gain from it. It was the height of irony that what I'd spent half my adult life ardently denying was now what every fiber in my being wished for... my last hope; my last shot at existence after the crash.
As I drifted out of consciousness, only one thought remained in my head:
I hope I've been wrong.
"Every atheist is religious once the plane starts falling".
*****************************************************************************
This last quote is not my own, but it inspired me to write this. It was necessary to use first-person perspective to better capture the protagonist's feelings, but as I said before, these are not my beliefs; this character is purely fictional (and 28). I think this post will manage to piss off both the religiously devout and the atheists, and I think I deserve a medal for that. Seriously though, no offense intended to either party.
This post in no way represents my own personal feelings or beliefs, I'm a practicing Muslim... It is simply a work of fiction, narrated by an atheist protagonist.
**************************************************************************
Was it all in vain? Is this really the end?
Questions that course through a victim's head... one who regrets his choices. As I sat there, silently forsaking everything I thought I'd stood for, I wondered whether my precious logic or reason would come to my aid now. Can one pray to logic, I wonder? I would have laughed out loud if it wasn't for the whole "imminent death" thing.
I am not a religious man. I've never been the guy who prays or does anything remotely spiritual. Yes, I was born to believe that there is a God and that we should worship him, but I never really understood why. If there is an all-powerful creator of the world we live in, does he really need the insignificant sniveling of little old me- less than a spec of dust to a blue whale on the scale of the universe? Why would my prayers matter? I can't make God grant me my wishes... and what's the worst I can do if he doesn't answer my prayers? Sulk in an insignificant corner in an insignificant room in an insignificant country on an insignificant planet in an insignificant galaxy? Oh wow, that's powerful. What would compel such an all-knowing entity to help me with my daily struggles?
And the opposite is true. I found it hard to believe that such a deity would care whether I worshiped Him or not. Why would He smite me with the wrath of a thousand lightning bolts just because I failed to pray? Surely He would have bigger concerns than myself? Does He have a desire for control? Small chance of that; a God transcends urges and desires...
Then there was the obvious; pain and suffering and war and famine in every corner of the globe. The premise that every religion is based on is that God loves us and wants us to lead happy lives, yet the world has only seen a few decades of peace in the last two millennia. If an all-powerful being were capable of stopping that, why is He blind to the cries of his creations? And if that were the case, would humanity owe Him obedience, or defiance?
The religious texts didn't help; each was as unbelievable as the next. One man gathered all the known animal species in the world on a single boat which survived a disastrous flood? A man walked on water, and came back from the dead? A man lived inside a whale? Whenever I asked too many questions about these events, I was always told to take it on faith; that the whole point of faith is that there is no proof. I was told to protect my mind from such blasphemous thoughts, lest I forsake my religion. That was the last straw... A deity who controlled my very thoughts was not a welcome addition to my adult life, and so after giving it a lot of thought, I decided I was an atheist and embraced my new life-style on my 28th birthday. It wasn't much of a change, really... I'd already been an atheist at heart for years and hadn't practiced any of my religion's teachings, I just hadn't had the courage to openly admit it to myself until then.
Seven months after that fateful decision saw me fastening my seat-belt on a flight to London to attend an important meeting with my company's CEO. My life had completely turned around... I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. I had no restrictions, save for a flimsy moral code I'd made for myself. I answered to no one but me (and my boss at work) and partied as hard as anyone. I went home with a different girl every night, kicked her out before breakfast on the next day, went to work, then back home to change, then to the bar where I'd drink, smoke up and maybe snort some coke while I OD'ed on ecstasy or acid or whatever drug I had easy access to that night. Then I'd pick a girl I like (if I were still remotely sober), take her home and the cycle repeated itself. Being atheist didn't mean I had to be immoral, but I allowed myself a lot of freedoms I shouldn't have and I embraced the mistakes I made with a promise to make them again. It was the Neo-American dream, and I was soaking up every glorious drop of it. Now I was on my way to my company's headquarters, probably for a promotion and a big fat bonus cheque.
At least that was the plan...
Instead, halfway through the flight, the stewardesses started darting back and forth between the cabin and the cockpit, in an apparent hurry. Not long after that, the oxygen masks dropped, and people started panicking. Infants screamed; fathers tried to reassure their daughters while in desperate need of a hug themselves; and some people started hyperventilating and passing out. The Captain's grim voice suddenly cracked over the airplane's intercom: "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We have lost the right engine and will have to make an emergency landing while the left engine is still operational. We kindly ask that you remain seated with your seat-belts on and not panic. Our flight attendants will be passing by shortly to help you take the brace position. Thank you for choosing British Airways". Well, maybe he didn't say that last sentence, but his cocky British accent screamed it... I had a vision of the pilot wearing a monocle and a top hat while sipping tea, and I was just going to laugh when I realized I was probably going to die.
Right on cue, as if the left engine was following my train of thought, there was an explosion on my left and the plane took a nose dive. That was when I knew there was no way out of it. I would die, now. Time stopped.
Was it all in vain? Is this really the end?
I took a look at my three decades on Earth, and decided that I really didn't like how I used them. I didn't help anyone, I didn't have a family, I had no friends to speak of. What was the point of my life? Why was I born? This can't be it! Here I was, dying a thousand miles from home, and in two weeks after the news of my airplane crashing fade from the headlines, I would be forever forgotten... I had left nothing behind to speak of.
And that was when I started praying.
Through a haze of tears and cries and debris smashing through the cabin as we plummeted towards the ground, I started praying. Silently at first, but soon I found myself screaming my prayers at the top of my lungs, over the deafening roar of the engine and the rush of wind past my ears as the plane started disintegrating... perhaps I was hoping that maybe the louder I prayed the more likely I'd be heard. I internally resigned myself to either an eternity of nothingness, or an eternity of damnation... I was unsure which was worse. I hated myself at that moment. I hated my weakness.
I hated that I wished I'd made a different call, and maybe had more faith.
I hated that I secretly hoped there would still be life after death, even though I'd reasoned that they were just children's stories to teach them to cope with death.
I hated that I found myself praying to the very deity I'd forsaken years ago, hoping He'd take me back and forgive my sins.
I hated that my new Gods, Logic and Reason, had no way of saving me and I felt powerless to do anything about it.
But most of all, I hated my own hypocrisy. I'd been an atheist when it suited me, and now I was praying when there was something to gain from it. It was the height of irony that what I'd spent half my adult life ardently denying was now what every fiber in my being wished for... my last hope; my last shot at existence after the crash.
As I drifted out of consciousness, only one thought remained in my head:
I hope I've been wrong.
"Every atheist is religious once the plane starts falling".
*****************************************************************************
This last quote is not my own, but it inspired me to write this. It was necessary to use first-person perspective to better capture the protagonist's feelings, but as I said before, these are not my beliefs; this character is purely fictional (and 28). I think this post will manage to piss off both the religiously devout and the atheists, and I think I deserve a medal for that. Seriously though, no offense intended to either party.
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