I couldn’t help wondering, what would be the baby thinking, when it kept pushing inside my sister’s tummy against my hand and then move around till it felt comfortable? If it can hear me, does it have the capacity to think, I wonder.
If it thinks, does it believe that there is a world beyond the womb? I wonder, what does it make of our voice if it believes the womb is its world. And when it would be its time to see us, would it be reluctant to leave the warm comfort of the womb imagining the worst of the “other” world.. I wonder.
And then in that chain, I couldn’t help thinking, if we are entirely inside another universe, growing and maturing till it is our time to get to the other side? Maybe.
I began respecting God. I had indifference to the concept, but I valued my religion. All this because a benefit of doubt began to take birth and I wondered: What if God is nothing but a gentle soothing voice with His hand fondly caressing its tummy, the tummy being our world in which we reside. But we are in such deep slumber inside our world that probably we are unable to hear Him speak to us.
Maybe, He can feel us shift inside as we move around in discomfort or excitement of our own chaos. Maybe, He can feel us kick when we throw ourselves out of frustration to some unknown void or when we dance in the ultimate trance of euphoria. Maybe.
Maybe, He is as eager like us; like we are to see the baby take its birth in this wonderful world.
The possibilities are so grand that I do not know if what is real, is actually real at all.