Read time 7 minutes
In the heart of a remote mountain range resided a lone saint. His robe painted in the mystique of ages past. This sage, known by many names but mostly referred to as Naik Al-Zinda, had spent his lifetime meditating on the meaning of life.
His humble mountain home attracted seekers from distant lands. Most of them yearned for wisdom on-demand, the saint knew. They only came to him when they wanted to feel a bit mystical. For them, Al-Zinda was a mood.
One day, an unfamiliar presence interrupted his meditative trance. He opened his eyes only to witness the sky painted with hues of amber and gold. To his delight, it was not a human visitor this time. But something else.
Naik walked over to the cliff and saw an otherworldly craft landed on a rocky outcrop near him. A large, human-like figure of shining silver jumped out of it.
An explorer... From the stars!
Naik felt fear in his legs. His feet wobbled like a pair of overcooked noodles, as if the ground beneath him had decided to dance. But he realized if it’s not human, it won’t take much from him. It must have journeyed through galaxies to arrive here, Naik thought.
“Must be hungry…” He said and rushed to get his bowl filled with the lizard soup he had saved for dinner.
The alien, who walked with mechanical precision, approached the saint. Naik draped his robe as fashionably as he could and greeted his guest with the soup.
They exchanged a silent gaze. The alien looked at the bowl and declined Naik’s offer with a graceful gesture.
"Esteemed traveler," Naik began, his voice carrying immense respect. "What brings you to this sphere of greens and blues?”
The alien hummed for some moments, as if translating its thoughts into the sage's language. “Wise one, I want to know what you know,” it said. “I seek understanding of your human society.”
Naik chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “My respected guest, what tells you I’m wise?”
“The perfume of your spirit.”
"Ah, the perfume, of course,” Naik said. “Come, let us sit atop this ancient rock I call The Ocean, where the winds whisper secrets, and you shall know what you seek.”
As the sun dipped, casting a gentle embrace upon the mountain, the seeker and the sage settled in.
And so, it begun.
“I have observed civilizations of countless forms, yet this realm puzzles me. The humans and their ways astonish me."
“Indeed, perceptive traveler, you've caught us in the act! Welcome to the human circus, where the contradictions are grand, complexities a rollercoaster, and the clowns are aplenty!”
“How can humans be so brilliant and yet so self-limiting?”
“Humans are a recipe with too many ingredients — a dash of wisdom, a sprinkle of nonsense, and a pinch of wishful thinking. We're a species that debate the meaning of life while struggling to find matching socks.”
“Why do you humans lie?”
“Well, truth hasn’t proved to be our best companion, really. It’s a daring dance with doom. From Socrates to Jesus to Mansour, we’ve seen truth leads to—hemlock, cross, or gallows—an early grave.
So we've mastered the art of spinning tales to avoid trouble. You see, a well-timed lie oils the wheels of our social vehicle. Besides, who doesn't love a good mystery?
“Why do you marry?”
“First off, we don’t like the idea of orgies. And lone wolves scare our masters in the human society; easier to tame a being with anchors and attachments.
Being a social bunch, we invented marriage to handle each other when we lose our sanity. It's a blend of companionship, compromise, and a lifetime of arguments.
We figured, if we're going to be lost in the chaos of life, might as well drag someone along. And, who doesn’t like free fornication after a full day’s work?”
“Why do you make kids?”
“Oh how else would we spread our heavenly species? And… it helps some of us feel proud, powerful, and less lonely when we’re old.
Although we’re still figuring things out ourselves, we promise children a brighter future—Such is our optimism. It's like passing the baton in a race without knowing where the finish line is.
And imagine our world without little humans brimming with curiosity—Who’d ask those silly potty questions?”
“What are schools?”
“Factories of fear, doubt, and shame; to make all kids think and sound same. Good for teenage angst too! While life itself is a remarkable teacher, we decided it needed a supporting cast to reign the free thinking and instill some obedience.
Schools are training grounds for the theatrical act we call adulthood. We teach when to speak the truth and when not. When to raise voice against injustice and when not.
They provide compliance training, diplomatic skills, and a ton of math problems.”
“What are funerals?”
“Ah, my favorite gathering! Call it a feast without formalities—It’s when we gather to celebrate death.
We are sentimental creatures, and accepting the impermanence of existence is hard, so we dance by shedding tears.
It's a day to wear our dullest outfits, practice our best ‘I'm deep in thought’ expressions, and divide the dead’s belongings.”
“Why do you deceive each other?”
“Deception, curious explorer, is a survival skill. And I’m proud to say we've turned it into an art form. We teach this art in classrooms called marketing studies.
We deceive for personal gain, power, or sometimes just for fun. Some of us are driven by delusions, self-made obsessions—lying and drifting, to move up a station. It's our way of keeping things interesting.”
“With such cognitive capabilities, why do you suffer from mental anguish?"
“We have invented a way to keep the rats hooked on heroine without the dose, it’s called hustle culture. We love overworking ourselves into a frazzled mess, all while pretending everything's fun.
We hustle and grind the whole week for a Sunday, a whole month for a paycheque, a whole life for a retirement home in the mountains.
Why be content when you can chase unattainable perfection and drive yourself mad?”
“What prevents you from embracing empathy universally?”
“Only if a round of earth was longer than 24-hours, we’d be taking time to care for each other. So we play hide-and-seek with understanding, and we're masters at it. We ask ‘how are you?’ but don’t want to hear ‘not well.’
Empathy is great, but being human is tough business. We simply forget to feel for others. Perhaps, we're all starring in our own dramas, and we barely have time to read the script of others.”
“Why do you destroy nature?”
“We’re artists, you see. Nature is our canvas and we can't help but paint on it!
Look around and you’ll see toddlers with a box of crayons—creating industrial plants, housing societies, and agricultural empires on the walls of nature.
We bulldoze forests, extinct species, and pollute waters not for fun but progress. You’d say, we took the 'Leave No Stone Unturned' quite literally, but such is our ambition.
Think of us as rebellious teenagers who just discovered spray paint. Instead of tagging walls, we're scribbling on the planet itself. It's a universal art project gone rogue.”
"But don’t you harm your own home?”
“Well, you see, distant friend, we play a little game called 'Let's See How Fast We Can Turn Our Planet into a Dumpster Fire.'
It's thrilling and fun. The leaderboard is looking great too—The Dinos, rhinos, and the sharks are all losing, and we’re, proudly, winning.
Who needs clean air and fresh water when you can have shiny leather wears, plastic bottles to drink from, and boxes on wheels to rush through life?
And, I’m sure of nothing except that we will win this competition to turn our home into a cosmic junkyard!”
“Why is there vast differences in wealth among your species?”
“Ah, pretty dear civilization! The classic tale of 'have-yachts' and 'have-stomach-knots.'
We've decided to keep ‘them’ and ‘us’ well-defined, you know. It ensures that while some ride in luxury ships, others survive on potato chips. Some greeted with apple jams, others stuck in traffic jams.
We measure a life’s worth by the number of diamonds attached to it. That's how we tell the rats from the raccoons.”
“Why do you resort to violence to settle disputes?”
"Violence? Oh, it's our preferred form of communication.
Diplomacy is overrated. Dialogue is dead. And where’s the fun in that?
Tolstoy be damned! Gandhi be damned! We wait for words to fail, to blow things up and leave no trail.
It’s a modern day need, you see, keeps the news fresh, population balanced, and the arms business booming."
As the dialogue drew to a close, a silence settled over the mountain.
The alien's eyes held a mix of contemplation and concern, as if it had glimpsed both the folly and nature of humanity's existence.
Expressing gratitude, the alien reached for the bowl of soup. It touched Naik’s heart, for him it was the universe accepting itself, and he was a mere vessel.
The alien raised the bowl, as if toasting to newfound insight, and took a sip.
Their eyes met, a wordless acknowledgment passing between them. Naik gave a subtle nod. “Must be hungry,” he said, the corners of his lips hinting at a knowing smile.
The alien brought the bowl to its lips once more, emptying it. After a shared moment of silence, it rose and headed toward its ride.
"Thank the stars, I am not human!" the alien declared with an air of relief.
Naik remained seated and sealed his eyes as if they bid farewell to his visitor. Those last words brought a gentle smile to his face. He inhaled a deep breath, perhaps, to fill his empty belly with air.
“Thank all goodness, I’m not inhuman!” Naik whispered to the winds.