Dostoevsky once said that the world will reach a time when intelligent people will be stopped from thinking and questioning so that they do not offend fools. Yes, questioning is dangerous to foolishness because foolishness often relies on blind acceptance rather than thinking deeply or critically. When someone starts questioning, they begin to seek truth, understanding or clarity. Foolishness survives where questions aren’t asked.
Analysing deeply, one can find that the entire human civilization stands on questions. Who am I? Who are you? What are clouds? What is the wind? Why does it blow, and why does it stop? Why does the sun always rise in the east? If the Earth is rotating, then what remains still? If all human brains have the same structure, why do some minds work more efficiently while others function less? How do we determine whether the person we consider insane is truly insane? If iron is heavier than water, then why do ships float? How is a civilization born, how does it rise, and how does it perish? How does a thought turn into a belief, and how does the same thought evolve into scientific reasoning?
Someone, at some point, must have asked these questions—only then we were able to move from caves to conquering planets and making space our home. Just as silence is the mentor of sounds, a question is the father of an answer. The nature and quality of a question serve as the DNA that reveals our intellectual lineage. A question is the measure by which our intelligence, foolishness and the depth or shallowness of our thinking can be instantly assessed and the landscape of our mind can be quietly surveyed. An answer may be ordinary, but a question is never trivial.
On the surface, a question like “Why does an apple fall downward instead of rising upward?” may seem simple or even foolish. Yet, this very question unlocked the mystery of gravity and opened an entire world of scientific wonder. When all human blood is the same colour, brain sizes are similar, the Earth belongs to everyone, and death is inevitable for all, then what justifies social hierarchies and class divisions?
It was from the womb of this paradox that the philosophy of Karl Marx emerged. Which is the greater force — violence or non-violence? The answer to this question is reflected in the lives of the likes of Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Nelson Mandela. If humans have been given intellect, then how can they be bound by a single idea or ideology for eternity? How can they be prevented from thinking in different ways? And when they are restricted, what are the benefits and consequences? This one question gave birth to the concept and movement of enlightenment.
A question Is like water—when it flows freely, it nourishes; if it is obstructed, it becomes stagnant. There is no need to look far. Just observe yourself, your surroundings and societies or states that fear questions and the search for truth. Then compare them to those that through their fearless pursuit of answers have transformed themselves and progressed beyond imagination. Observe those who blindly cling to the belief that what they say is the absolute truth, and that they alone possess reality.
Now compare them to those who accept they might be wrong—and who would genuinely welcome being proven so. They believe that, despite differences, continuous dialogue can lead us to common ground. The difference between these two mindsets defines the journey of a civilization—whether it remains stagnant or moves forward. The day we begin to eliminate phrases like ‘Without a doubt,’ ‘Certainly,’ ‘Well said,’ ‘That’s impossible,’ ‘There is no question about it,’ ‘I refuse to hear this,’ ‘I dare not ask,’ ‘I blindly trust your word,’ and ‘This is the final verdict’ from our vocabulary and instead choose to climb the ladder of inquiry and step into the realm of doubt; our long-stalled journey of intellectual evolution will begin again.
However, if you pose a question without first fully listening to and understanding the other person’s perspective, it is likely to lead not to the pursuit of knowledge, but to stubbornness, argument, and unnecessary conflict. A question is more powerful than an atomic bomb and has the power to shatter authority. That is why kings fear it and nations tremble before it.
We often observe that in our madrasas, schools, colleges, and universities, a student who dares to ask questions is labelled as disrespectful, misguided, or rebellious. Instead of being encouraged to think critically and find solutions independently, students are forced to memorize like parrots—ensuring a continuous supply of obedient but intellectually stifled and mentally enslaved generations. If we can raise a generation unafraid to ask, to reflect and respond, and to challenge inherited dogmas, we may yet begin to heal the deep political and social wounds we have long ignored. Otherwise, the angel Israfil (AS) waits silently behind the veil, eyeing the clock—for he knows, as we pretend not to, that time is not infinite. Let us raise voices that ask rather than echo, minds that probe rather than conform, and generations that challenge rather than obey. For only when the question lives, does humanity truly live.
(The author teaches Geography at GDC Kulgam and can be reached at rather1294@gmail.com)
