The Desolation of a God

Inspired by the Marathi movie Deool (means "Temple"). I recommend you please watch the movie first. You will understand the below story better after watching the movie.

Spoiler alert: The below story contains lot of spoilers related to the Marathi movie Deool. If you plan to watch the movie, the please refrain from reading this story.

I am God. Many people believe so, and so it must be true.

I was once a stone. Then a sculptor's art and sweat shaped me.

Keshav, a simple shepherd from a small village once dreamed about me. Being a simpleton, he did not keep this little fact to himself. The villagers decided to build a temple for me. They placed me in that temple. And so I became God.

People from near and far places came to visit me. They believed I had the answers to their problems, their pains, their struggles. And since they believed it, so it must be true.

My coming changed the village. Suddenly there were jobs for everyone. Better electical and water supply. A continuous inflow of the faithful and their money. Running a religious pilgrimage is no small task. Everybody in the village suddenly became so busy and greedy, they hardly had time to think about me. Yes, my coming did change the village. But it also changed the villagers.

Only Keshav, the perpetual simpleton remained unchanged. It is not flotsam but the stationary rock in the river, that feels the changes in the water currents. And so he could feel the change... And he could feel that maybe it was not for the better...

One day they beat him up. All he wanted was to see his God. But God was locked away, for the personal visit by Minister saheb. But it was his God! He had seen Him. He had told everyone about Him. How could they stop him from seeing his God? He insisted. And the villagers beat him and drove him away.

Suddenly he was disillusioned. Maybe, just as Anna had told him, it had not been a wise thing to go around telling people he had seen God. Had he not done so, none of what was happening now would have happened. And his good old sorry village would have continued to go on the way it had for so many years. He was so disgusted by it all, that he decided to leave it all behind. Go to the city. Meet Anna, the old man of science - who believed that what Keshav had seen that day, was not God but just a hallucination. Anna believed this. and so it must be true.

So that night, Keshav left the village. But he did not leave alone. He took me with him. After all, I was his God.

He ran, with me in his arms... For days, he carried me over hills, through valleys, alone, hungry, thirsty, driven by his need to get away from the religious madness he and Myself had unleashed in his village. Finally he had his God with him. 

One day, we reached a river. He told me to stay here. And not to show myself again. Lest it might lead to another religious and greedy madness. He believed it, and so it must be true. And then, with a stone on his heart, he let me go. I floated for a while, and then I sank to the river bottom.

And here I lie, at the bottom of the river. Every day, the water corrodes me little by little. One day, I would break down into tiny pieces of stone and then cease be the God I had become. I wish I could do more. I wish I could lift myself out of the river, and materialize back in the temple. But a God is only as powerful as the faith of man in him - the blind belief that his God can work miracles. And a God's miracles are only as strong and probable as his worshipper's belief in him. But for all the rest of the world, I don't exist. So, I lay here helpless, waiting. Waiting for a God's end.

I am all alone now. Once I was always surrounded by people. My devotees who came to pay me homage, pray to me to alleviate their troubles. ANd my caretakers who thought less of me and more of the money I helped bring in... I miss those people. All those who believed in me, and some who didn't. But more than anyone, I miss Keshav. Poor, simple-minded Keshav. The man who brought me to this world. And the one who laid me to rest in this watery grave. I miss him, because he was the only one who truly loved me... 

Other believers simply came to my breast because they were troubled, in pain, unhappy with their lives. Or maybe because they feared my wrath, lest they do not pay me homage. But Keshav loved me. My last memory of him was the time he carried me in his arms. All that time, he talked to me. Like I was a person. He was not in awe of me. Nor was he afraid of me. Nor did he expect any thing in return from me. Yes, he loved me. He loved me unconditionally... And unlike the humans who create Us, every God knows the value of unconditional love. And while I wait for the forces of nature to disintegrate me, I will keep thinking of him, hoping he did well for himself...

The Stairs: a love story

It was love at first sight...

I was there to attend the Annual Staircases Convention. It is a grand event hosted by the World Staircases Organization and is presided by the holy staircase to heaven. And like every other staircase in the world it had always been my wish to attend the convention at least once...

I am a simple hardworking staircase of a little four storey building. Its an old fashioned building. There are no elevators. People, young and old, use me day in and day out. Its a bit of a step-wearing work. But I am happy. There is just one little problem. People rely on me for their daily ascent and descent. They are loyal to me. They appreciate me and I am thankful for that. But this means that I get no holidays whatsoever. Not that I am complaining. But this makes it difficult for me to attend such events like this annual convention of the Stairs-kind. A missing staircase in old-fashioned buildings like mine is not really hard to miss.

But this time around I was really lucky. The wing in which I reside was undergoing some major repair-work. Most of my human folks had been forced to go visit relatives or to go on long trips. And right around the time when the Annual Staircase Convention took place. Which left me with a once in a staircase-lifetime opportunity to visit the grand event...

At the entrance were two massive broad staircase guards - the type of staircases you come across in big libraries or institution buildings. They ushered me in, but blocked off a couple of escalators. "Sorry, only static-stairs allowed...", they told the unlucky escalators...

It was a huge gathering. The place was teeming with staircases of all shapes and sizes. Never have I ever seen so many staircases assembled in a single place. There was the majestic holy Stairway to the Heavens, its beautiful golden stairs ascending into the sky. There were the broad marble staircases you usually find in museums and libraries. There were the exotic curved staircase twins you find in bunglows and grand manors. There were the steep, thin but sturdy staircases that led up the towers of forts and castles. And there were the short but beautifully decorated staircases that one finds in temples and churches. And there were the tall handsome staircases that inhabit the modern highrise skyscrapers.

She was with one such handsome staircase. For the longest time I kept staring at her, mesmerized by her beauty. Her body was white marble. Her curves aesthetically graceful, her balustrade beautifully handcrafted... She was a sight to behold. The tall fellow was taking animatedly to her. I was suddenly very conscious of my drab worn-out looks and my short stature. And then she looked up at me and smiled. And everything else faded, became a blur... She excused herself of the tall handsome new staircase's company and shuffled over to where I stood.

She introduced herself as the Staircase from the Mall. I was a bit awkward at first. I am not really used to chatting up with the opposite gender. But after a while, we were so comfortable that it was like we had known each other for ages... We talked... And talked... And talked...

We shared a dance... It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Many tall handsome young fellows from brand new highrise towers asked her for a dance. But she declined. She just wanted to spend time with me.

All the while, I was ecstatic... My elation knew no bounds. My heart would not stop thumping. Was this how it felt to be in love?

She looked so happy. But there was something underneath. I could sense a sadness underneath her laughter and her bubbly exterior. But I could not get at its root.

Finally, as we sat in a secluded corner, away from all the hubbub, I asked her, "Why are you so sad?"

At first she would not tell. But finally she broke...

"Yes I am sad... I am sad because we will not be able to meet again..."

"Why do you say that?"

There were tears in her eyes... 

"Do you love me?", I asked. She nodded... I sighed. "I love you too... I can't imagine my life with anyone else but you..."

"Neither can I, my dearest..." she confessed...

"I would like to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?"

At this she burst out in tears...

I did not know what to say...

"I know there is something that's troubling you... What is it? Tell me. I cannot see you unhappy like this..."

After a long silence, she finally spilled her heart out... "Do you know why I rejected all those tall young fellows? Do you know why I liked you? They are tall, handsome, young. But they have no goal in life. No one uses them. Because all those highrise buildings have elevators. People simply ignore these stairs, except to smoke... Look at their bodies full of soot... But you? You are full of life. Full of purpose. People use you. Up and down they walk on you. Everyday. They rely on you... There is purpose for all of us staircases, my sweetheart... And that purpose is fulfilled only when we help people ascend or descend. Only when they use us... I reside in a Mall... I am beautiful. They keep me clean and tidy. But nobody ever uses me. They all prefer those robots. The hideous metallic Escalators... So now do you know why I am so sad? Because I cannot ever fulfill my purpose in life... And even if I know that you will go to any lengths to make me happy, I will still not be happy. Not really. That resentment of unfulfilled purpose will always keep eating away at me. And so neither would I be really happy, nor would I be able to make you happy..."

Finally I understood... It was so sad... And there was nothing I could do to drive away her resentment...

We spent the rest of the evening in each others company, knowing well that we may never meet again...

And as the day drew to a close, we kissed each other and parted ways...
I remember her even today. How can I forget? She was, is and will be, the love of my life.

Some days, in those lonely afternoons or those cold nights, when there are no human folk to ascend or descend me, I remember her... For I still have hope...

And hence my only request to you dear reader, is that the next time you visit the mall, if you are able-bodied enough, please use the stairs. If enough of you use the staircase, maybe my beloved will feel contented. And happy. She will have served her purpose in life... And then maybe someday, we will be together again... I hope... I hope...