about god

If you’ve been brought up in a Muslim—or any other fundamentalist—household, you probably know the drill. You’re given a set of rules, a way of thinking, and even a language, for that matter.

This led me to think of god as just a name for that whole system of commandments and rules. I didn’t think of God as a being. I rejected the idea of Him being the all-knowing, all-merciful God—because I knew, for a fact, He wasn’t.

He seemed more like an angry presence—always mad at anyone who was smart enough to reject His insufferable rules. Rules that were all made just to please Him. To remind him that He’s the best. And I’m supposed to be thankful?

I wasn’t going to accept that. That’s why I declared myself an atheist—a devout atheist. I rejected any doctrine that claimed to know this god.

Years later, I read somewhere—I can’t remember where—that we should treat everyone as if they were God. What the hell could that mean? I thought.

I started to wonder if God wasn’t a being at all, but more like an abstract concept. Something we could all reflect in—him, her, or them. Almost like in the Egg Theory. This being is not all-powerful either, but the best part is that it doesn’t claim to be.

He struggles to present himself in our lives. Humans never wanted Her or believed in Her. They selfishly decided to present God as this mixture of all that a human aspires to be—a control freak, a leader. Everyone has to follow me.

Nonetheless, they—God, or whatever name you want to call them—present themselves in the most banal ways.

When someone on the bus gives you a conversation. A kid that, for some reason, decides to say the stupidest thing. You, who haven’t given up on yourself just yet. We are all a tiny bit of this God, who didn’t lose control—simply because They never had it.