At one point in my life, I believed in Allah. I truly did. I would totally depend on him for something good to happen. It never did, though, because I was just sitting there alone asking or rather praying for something good to happen when, really, I should be making some effort myself. I would try to calm down and tell myself that it was okay since life was just a test and there was no point wishing for something permanent in the temporary life.
However, sometimes I'd find myself wondering why did I feel that pain if it was only a test? Was it going to be harder when the real life started? Why was I feeling so sad? Why wasn't I happy? Why was I feeling at all? What had I done to deserve that? Why was I being punished for what my ancestors did? Why would god hold that mistake against humanity for so long? Weren't we supposed to let go and move on? Then why wasn't god? Was he scared?
But I had no one who could answer those questions for me because, in reality, nobody knew. They all had learnt or were taught to not question religion. I almost did too mainly because it was easy that way.
All I had to do was think/question/research and since my mind can only comprehend logical and reasonable ideas, it was time to let go off my imaginary friend.
Stephen Hawking: ‘Heaven is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark’
Peace.
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