Holy Communion

Its been crazy this month.
From an idle lazing sloth, i now find myself coming home at the wee hours of the mornings.
Its a rush, but i got it done.

---

Holy Communion

Its a heart wrenching job to be your identical twin.

Your entrancing persona had people in a deadlock under your captivating enchantment.
It seemed that at will, you could instill delight in anyone under your spell.
I could have sworn that once, you twitched your finger and had a smile plastered on Mrs Adams.
You twitched it again and had her in stitches.
You twitched it yet again and had Mr Adams carry her off the floor.
You really knew the right strings to pull.

When you talk, people are entranced to listen.
When i talk, people tend to shoot me a blood curling stare that spells "Heinous condemned being of the abyssal" all over me.
It did not help that your intelligence made me look like an early stage matter evolving from the primordial ooze.
We look exactly alike and yet in some miraculous ambiguous vision spasm of sort, you were the handsome one!!!

I'm sure you get it by now.
You are far more superior to me in every way.
The good part was, people always got our names right.

I remember the days when we were growing up.
Life was a bliss.
The only things we cared about was finding new inventive ways to sabotage the devils subordinate...Alice, our neighbor.


Then came high school.
Testosterone started to muck us up badly during our teenage years and before we knew it, our former thin scrawny bodies were morphed into a masculine shell.
Our features changed in unison to each other. Physically, we were identical.
However, you were the one catching winks and love letters from dainty wishful girls who squealed at the mention of your name.

Time maliciously whisked us by to the end of our teen years and you were nineteen with astonishing academic qualifications and an array extracurricular achievements.
I was nineteen and astonished at myself for soaring to great heights in the sector of 'High school drop outs'


With all this attention, you still managed to keep grounded to the morality you held on to.
You took the effort to volunteer at the local orphanage every week and devoting your free time to host group studies to help those frail feeble minded.

Sometimes i wonder how it must have been like for you to see me, an exact replica of you, but only a loser.

Sometimes, when i look at the mirror, i see you.
I see all that extraordinary potential merged into a single being.
Why couldn't that be me?
Was my vessel inadequate to house such greatness?
Would it prove too infirm to reflect such awesome and splendor?
Was it because i was delivered 2 minutes before you?


Two years down the line and you were in Harvard, living up to the expectations of the masses.
At the snap of your fingers, you could choose any firm or company to be indulged with your presence.
Best yet, you met the girl of your dreams, Elizabeth.
And me?
I met grandma for lunch.

Your intelligence grew with age.
You began to question the very laws of nature.
Somehow you had this insatiable urge to understand in great depth, the existence of life itself.

For a God fearing man such as myself, i find solace in knowing that a greater being that supersedes any form of imagination exists.
For you, the existence of God was nothing more than a fallacy, myth and excuse to keep social justice in place.
To you, God was also a convenient excuse to answer the unanswerable.
While men simply answered the existence of the universe and mankind with the association with God, you begged to differ.
You were all about the facts and theories when we debated about the great question.
"Does a God really exist?"

You never changed throughout the years.
Further down the road you got married to Elizabeth, still volunteered at the orphanage and still shared your great passion for knowledge.
A man of dignity and compassion no doubt.
Society owes a great debt to you.

I can only imagine what it would be like if you were still around.
It wasn't fair that your bright future was mercilessly robbed from you by an incompetent under aged teen on booze.
Your sudden departure left us with much grief and sorrow.
It also left Elizabeth a widow.

Here i sit, four feet from the pew. A cup in one hand and bread in the other, reminiscing the past.
In this life, i have learned that the reward does not go to those who had much to offer.
It does not go to those with supreme intellect.
Nor does it go to those who are gifted with admirable abilities.
It goes to those who are forgiven.
My only regret is that a foolish imbecile such as myself has failed to impart this simple knowledge with you.