An atheist is someone who doesn’t believe in God.
Seems simple enough, doesn’t it?
But if you were to admit to being one, having been born in a Hindu orthodox family, well that’s an entirely different proposition altogether. Because, you see, the thing about us Hindus is, we have 33 crore or 330 million Gods (or is it 330 million names of Gods?), and when you don’t believe in a single one of them, naturally, people tend to be a little sceptical. And if I were to continue writing in this vein, I believe, I might never get to my actual point, or rather the tale itself.
The little factoid about me being an atheist, while not quite at the centre of this little tale, is nonetheless pertinent to it.
You see, I don’t believe in God, however I do believe in certain governing rules that bind the Universe and how it behaves. I believe in the age old adage “As you sow, so shall you reap”. Karma, if you will.
So, after whiling away the 3 hours of examination time for the end-semester exam on Control Systems, I was quite sure that I would reap, what I had sown, which, in this case, would have been a big fat bundle of zeros, with a dash of ones and twos, maybe, (and this is the best case scenario) even a couple of fours in there. All of which, upon summation would create a total way below, or at best slightly below the required sum for a pass grade, the golden 40 point mark for EPL teams to avoid relegation, for the lack of a better metaphor.
I spent the next hour, hour and a half, right from the moment I got out of the examination hall moping about with an uncharacteristically long face, proclaiming to anyone within earshot that I had failed for the very first time in my life.
However, it takes more than that to put a good man down. Some ice cream, milkshake, and soda, combined with watching Stana Katic (as Detective Kate Beckett in Castle) and listening to the soulful melody of Sadness and Sorrow played by the incredibly talented Taylor Davis, on the violin and I was right as rain. After all, my fate was sealed, and the professor had already told us that he would show the answer sheets on Monday. There was nothing I could do about it. Well, truth be spoken, there were some things that I could do about it, but, and this is important, everything that came to mind was both highly illegal and probably beyond my means. So I asked myself, “Is it really worth it?!”
The answer to this, was a resounding “Aw hell no”.
And that was the end of it. I whiled the weekend away, which, I am surprisingly good at.
Come, Monday, I was eager, no scratch that, anxious to know my fate. I was almost certain I would flunk, but there was still the faintest hope, that, maybe I had done just enough to keep my nose above water, and I clung onto it like a drowning man does to whatever he can hold on to.
So, at 3 PM sharp, I presented myself with 3 others, one of whom was in pretty much the same boat as me, but with a little more optimism about him, although where he found it, I wouldn’t know.
The professor called us in one by one, graded our answer books right in front of us, even consulting us on a few of them(he probably did this out of sheer necessity). And apparently, the combination of alphanumeric data, a few Greek symbols, and mathematical operations, that while writing had made no sense to me, was in fact, worth 36 marks.
I hadn’t flunked!
I had somehow managed to pass, and not just by the skin of my teeth, but by 6%.
With normal people, this would be the end of the story, but if you ask me, normal is overrated, which is just another way of saying, I am pretty screwed up!
Now, if you remember the little factoid about me believing in Karma, I think it would be easier for you to understand why I felt guilty about the fact that I had passed. It started out as a smidge, but soon I was overshadowed by it. I felt guilty about, not studying, whiling my time away, binge watching television among other things. I felt I didn’t deserve to pass, and was kind of being loud about it, which was pissing my friends off. And surprisingly, Karma dealt me a hand when I needed it the most.
A crow was kind enough to bless me with the contents of it’s bowels. Smat!
At first I was disgusted by it. But then I remembered all about Karma being an aggressive go-getter and all, and it wiped my guilty conscience away like a wet duster on a chalkboard. It was in a word, cathartic. And then I remembered I was still disgusted by it and popped off to the washroom to do something about it. Meanwhile, my friends had moved to a place where they wouldn’t be blessed by crows, for they really weren’t having any moral epiphanies.
Ohh, and that other guy, the optimist, the one who was in the same boat as me, he passed too. Just in case, you were interested!