Human beings have been deriding themselves by their unparalleled acceptance to inaction, albeit in a state of dubious oblivion. They have no regard to the universe at large. They have become the objects of their own compunction, only they are occupied with the contemptuous profligacy of life to an extent that they are making themselves unavailable to the occasion. Occasions that bosom in them the premise of life, occasions, those transcend the comprehension of a mortal with miraculous life inexperience. This lack of contempt to the inescapable maze of seemingly resourceful life, lack of reverence to the inanimate and wondrous enigma that lies outside the reaches of a whole life's mockery have rendered them unworthy of introspection. It appears that, as children, humans always possessed the enthusiasm. Be as it may, this naive enthusiasm instead of manifesting itself into incorrigible and incessant prayer to finding answers, has made an ideological transgression into the realm of in