In the Praise of Thee!


It is on occasions when I see a creation as glorious and extravagant as you that I realize the myth of the creator being just. It is then when I realize the injustice embedded in the very existence of meager mortals like me.

For if god was to be just, how does one address this perplexing dichotomy in his own creation?

How does one then explain the existence of a creation as sublime as you at one end of the spectrum with something as quotidian as me at the nethermost end?

It is on occasions like this that I think of the fine spring afternoon when the creator in the most leisurely hours of the clock must have taken up to create you, culminating in his tour-de-force. I stand baffled at the perfection of each careful stroke with which you were embellished. I remain awestruck at the manifestation of excellence that is you.

Despite being battered at length in every mathematics test throughout high school I can still appreciate the geometric comprehension of the creator when I see you being moulded with the most geometrically appropriate detail possible. It is then that I appreciate the creator despite the unjust world that I was made to live in.

The more I see you, the more I end up hating myself. The more I end up hating the production in masses of technically defective creation like me. Your hipster-hued texture makes me hate the chaotic rush at the creator’s cabin at the hour when lesser creations like me were tinted in the most mundane way possible.

Ending on a Shakespearean note, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate!”


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