Friday, October 09, 2009

(Part 4/5) The Best Days Of My Afterlife

(Part 1/5) The Day I Died
(Part 2/5) The Day Of The Sermon
(Part 3/5) The Day I Sat Down And Wrote This


Dated: The Day God Had A Plan

I soon graduated to better things to do. I would turn a tap on and wait for the water to finish so there would be no water left and all heaven would break loose. I would wait for endless units of time with an evil grin on my curled lips but something even more exciting would usually catch my attention and I would leave, the tap on. My sheep count was now a 13 digit prime number, but I liked the number so much that I stopped counting further. I had already made brilliantly detailed graffiti on all the walls behind the secretive hidden doors all about the place. It was mostly reproductive organs. The depressingly maniacal bee wasn't so depressing anymore. It was exciting to watch it sit unmoving on the same precise spot for a span of 30 years, or some such big number. The spell was broken when the elephant had to go to pee, just for fun really, no necessity, maybe check if it still worked, and he was about to step right on the bee and then sigh, but the bee somehow managed to step aside, for it was painful to get hurt and not die. The elephant sighed anyway and went on. I saw him come back when the bee had already broken her previous sitting-still record.

Even through these hectic times, I did keep a check on the tap. It kept running. Everything is infinite here. Even the pages of the printer. It keeps spewing out something or the other, all the time. Even empty pages when it has nothing to say really.

Though my afterlife had many twists and turns, wars and victories, battles of the mind, and epic tales of love, passion and revenge, I still felt something was missing. Something important. Like the whole point of it, somehow. So I decided I would go talk to someone about this. God, I figured, would be the most appropriate choice to start with, apart from the fact that his misery always upped my spirits.

God, this time round, seemed actually to be enjoying himself in whatever he was busy with. Disappointed, I asked him what he was doing. He said, "Shhh". I thought about it for a while and decided he was just bullshitting me, so I asked him again. He replied,
"Fine. I'm thinking of salvation. Suicide, practically. And I am preparing the required apparatus."
  "Suicide?! But what will happen to all of life! All of living beings, animal life, humanity, printers, christians, all the people!!"
"They'll keep jumping in the frying pan for all I care. I doubt if anybody will even notice."
  "But how will you die? You can't die! Can you really kill yourself? You could, all this while?"
  "Phew. Thank God. My whole afterlife was just going to be rendered pointless."
"It is."
  "I know but, you know, you're worse right."
  "So what are you planning then, there's no escape man. I've tried everything already, even boredom. It doesn't kill."
  "Ok I'll ask again. So what are you planning then, there's no escape man. I've tried everything already, even boredom. It doesn't kill."

God didn't reply. He wasn't bullshitting. He just kept at it, some big levers and ropes it seemed.


(Part 5/5) The Day I Got Frustrated With Death, The Universe And Everything

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