In the intricate web of human existence, the forces of light and darkness, good and bad, are often framed as irreconcilable opposite forces that shape our understanding of the world and our place within it. Yet, beneath this seemingly clear-cut distinction lies a far more nuanced reality. These opposing forces do not exist in isolation, nor are they static or absolute. Rather, they are interdependent, each giving meaning and dimension to the other. The very essence of reality is not found in these binary constructs, but in the perception that molds them, in the perspectives we bring to bear on our experiences. What we perceive as good may shift into bad depending on the lens through which we view it, and this fluidity is an intrinsic part of the human condition. Ultimately, it is our choices and the motivations that underpin them that shape the reality we experience.

Before the emergence of light, there was darkness—an unfathomable expanse, silent and eternal. It did not need to be summoned; it simply existed, enveloping all in its quiet infinity. Light, in contrast, is fleeting and fragile, dependent on an external source to shine. It illuminates, reveals, and offers clarity, yet it is always at risk of being extinguished. Despite its transience, light wields immense power, for it allows us to see, to comprehend, to navigate the unknown. But light’s power is not inherent in its existence alone, it depends on our willingness to engage with it. We may be surrounded by light yet remain in darkness if we choose not to open our eyes. Reality, therefore, is not simply about the presence of light or darkness, but about how we perceive and interact with these forces, how we choose to interpret what is revealed to us.

This dynamic between light and darkness mirrors the moral dimension of good and bad. Goodness is often equated with light, a force of order, clarity, and virtue, while badness is associated with darkness, chaos, and moral failure. Yet, these concepts are not immutable. The killer may commit an act of violence, but in their mind, they are not acting out of malice; they may believe they are delivering justice, protecting someone, or righting a perceived wrong. To them, their action is not only justified, but it may even be considered morally righteous. The victim, however, perceives the same act as a profound violation, an expression of evil. Both perspectives are valid, but both are also subjective shaped by the individual’s experiences, beliefs, and personal motivations.

The fluidity of moral interpretation is eloquently captured in Ghani Khan’s couplet:

Original (Pashto):

"په خپل مکان کې خپل اختیار جنت دی،
که نار وي نار که دار وي دار جنت دی"

(“Pa khpal makan ki khpal ikhtiyar Jannat day,

Ka naar v naar ka dar v dar jannat day.”)

Translated, these lines suggest that paradise or hell is not an external place, but a state of mind, shaped by how we perceive and interpret our circumstances. One person’s paradise may be another’s hell, depending entirely on their perspective. This idea mirrors Shakespeare’s famous reflection in Hamlet: "There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so." Reality is not inherently divided into categories of good and bad; it is our perception, our interpretation of events and actions—that defines these moral boundaries. What we perceive as virtuous today may appear flawed or misguided when viewed from another vantage point or at a different time.

The concept of sin further complicates our understanding of good and bad. Traditionally viewed as a moral failing, sin is often seen as a deviation from the righteous path—a dark stain on one’s soul. However, in the words of Sahib Shah Sabir:

Original (Pashto):

"د تاریخ د مسئلې نه
د کتاب د مسئلې نه
د انسان د تجربې نه
د غنمو د دانې نه
ما یوه خبره زده کړه
په یوه خبره پوه شوم
چې ګناه هم د کار سیز دی"

Translation (English):

"From the lessons of history,
From the knowledge in books,
From the experiences of mankind,
From the grain of wheat,
I learned one thing,
I understood one thing,
That sin too is a part of the process."

Here, sin is not condemned as a permanent mark of failure; rather, it is acknowledged as an inevitable and essential part of the human journey. It is through sin, through our mistakes and transgressions, that we learn, grow, and evolve. Just as darkness enhances our appreciation of light, sin deepens our understanding of virtue. Without the capacity to stray, to err, we would never develop the moral insight needed for redemption, for humility, for transformation. Sin, then, is not simply an act to be feared or avoided at all costs—it is a steppingstone toward greater self-awareness and moral clarity.

This understanding of morality as fluid and contextual becomes even more evident when viewed across different cultures, eras, and personal experiences. What one generation upholds as virtuous may be condemned as barbaric by the next. What one culture celebrates as an act of justice may be seen as cruelty by another. A ruler may enact laws or engage in acts of violence, believing they are preserving order or protecting their people, while those who suffer from these actions see only oppression. These shifting perspectives remind us that morality is not a universal constant; it is a social construct, shaped by context, intent, and the stories we tell ourselves.

Nietzsche’s famous line, "He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you," warns of the danger of becoming consumed by the very forces we seek to combat. In our quest for righteousness, we may inadvertently become the thing we despise. The killer, convinced of their moral rectitude, may lose sight of their own humanity, blinded by their belief in their cause. The victim, in their suffering, may become trapped in a cycle of blame and anger, unable to see beyond their pain. Perspective, once again, is everything. What may seem like a noble act to one person may appear monstrous to another, and good and bad shift as we change our vantage point.

At its core, reality is not a static truth. It reflects how we choose to see and interpret the world around us. Good and bad, like light and darkness, exist simultaneously, but their meaning is constantly evolving, shaped by our individual perceptions and choices. The killer believes their actions are justified, just as the victim believes in their own innocence. Both perspectives are rooted in personal experience and belief, yet both reveal the malleability of morality. The light we seek may blind someone else, and the darkness we fear may offer solace to another.

Ultimately, good and bad are not immutable forces; they are constructed by perception, culture, and circumstance. What we see as good today may shift into a bad tomorrow. Reality, too, is not a fixed entity but is constantly shaped and reshaped by our choices, our perceptions, and the motivations that drive us. The stories we tell ourselves about why we are right, why we believe our actions to be justified, define our understanding of good and bad. In the end, it is not the external world that determines our moral compass, but the internal dialogue we engage in that shapes who we are and how we experience life.

In conclusion, good and bad, like light and darkness, are fluid, evolving, and shaped by personal perspective. Reality itself is not a singular truth but a dynamic interplay between perception and action. As we navigate the complexities of existence, it is not the external forces of good and evil that define us, but the choices we make, the stories we tell ourselves, and the perspectives we bring to the world around us. It is these that ultimately shape who we are and how we perceive the reality we inhabit.

---WSK