the birth and death of an atheist: part one

prologue

Even as the dark night sky welled up with pregnant monsoon clouds waiting impatiently to shed theirs tears upon us, we- me and my friend- raced at breakneck speed along the beautiful Changanacherry- Alappuzha road in a to- be- futile attempt to outrun the impending shower. The road, which tore through the heart of Kuttanadu, stretched before us in all its majestic beauty, flanged by lush green paddy fields and brilliant blue backwaters on either sides. On any other day, I would have lost myself in this natural beauty; today I barely noticed them.

For, I was deeply involved in what my friend- a veteran atheist- was telling me. All of a sudden, he had found a willing listener in me, and I was drinking in every word of his sermon with a kind of reverence. There he was, piling proof upon proof to destroy everything I'd believed in until that moment, tearing to shreds the existence of my beloved Lord, and yet, I listened to him with a respect for his ideas that had so far eluded me. Everything he said made sense, each of his arguments dealt a vicious blow upon the institution of religion. Even though marked by crude jokes and outbursts of pure unadulterated abuse, what the drunk guy said seemed to make perfect sense. Soon enough, I too caught the drift, and joined him in his billingsgate of all religious institutions.

Thus rode the couple of boys- one a seasoned atheist and the other, his newly found disciple, the pilgrim- singing abusive songs against the church and making crude jokes about mosques and temples...

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to be continued in the next post...