Gods must be crazy

Imagine five days of hectic work , followed by a clean relaxing coffee or tea which ever is your poison...

A lot of us now have such typical weekends.
Feels good is it not.

But Imagine , a hectic work load for 24 hours a day, 365 days a year without coffee breaks or joyful vacations.
Sounds dull drab and boring.
Does it not.

But who has such a job.
Well in India , every God has such a job.But it is nothing dull or boring.

Each day when the clock strikes 5 or 6, the God (when I refer to God here , I mean both Male and the female form ) is woken up and invoked in hundreds of temples, they sound of singing , the sound of the drums and bells tolling. Imagine that you have had a tough day and just managed to grab some sleep  and then suddenly you are woken up, lights near your eyes, holy water on your head.

Imagine again, to be available in all places, at the same time, standing on two legs for the entire duration, having the lights brought so near you, flames of the sacred fire too.
Would you like such a job ?

No friends who visit you, no lets chill at the bar,
No pyjama parties,
No gym, no nothing.

Just standing there and listening to everyone ranting, blabbering, devotionally immersed in praying.

The brother wants more money, the sister wants a job so that she may not marry young, the guy across her wants is saying , woah, she looks cute, "dear God, can you create that spark between us?".
His mom is wanting her son to marry the girl from her home town.
So many wishes , desires, checklists , algorithms and what not.

If god was a software program then it is one hell of a program,
If God were a project now that is a whole new dynamic after all.

Just imagine , answering queries, solving issues, creating happiness, giving away blessings.

God does not even get time to breathe, or even fart in peace. Every where he goes there are people.

And then the lovely aroma of all the cooking , comes to his abode but guess what God cannot consume any of it . Such luck eh ?

And then there are no holidays, not even festival holidays. Beat that . It is precisely when God is working at full speed. Full potential.

Now coming to potential, imagine how God's yearly appraisal meeting would be .
"33 crore wishes answered in one day...!"

Wait how would God's resume look like,

Would there be an application process there  too ?

It gets really complicated when the wishes are not granted, some of them not even possible,
Especially during exam season.

Sometimes the death algorithm , fate algorithm takes over but at times God needs to be the all smiling person we all want to be.
Expectations you see , bother the Gods too.

At times there is no sick leave, no planned sick leave, It's India Vs Pakistan cricket match leave or just plain old bored of this work leave.

It is God's role to protect and serve us,
Like some people who like to say the "puppet show".

But is that because the Gods are bored that they need entertainment ?
They have enough on their minds already.

It really needs to be appreciated though that even after so many centuries, the Gods are awake every single day and night listening to an endless barrage of prayers, listing them, sorting them , identifying them and finally tagging them. And finally taking into consideration the varying Karma index , help them lead a happy life and at long last maintain their database at the time of their return.

Then take the blame, for not Saving some one, for creating rains and for not creating rains, for blessing relationships and cursing them.

And now I almost forgot, to be called into every function and marriage to attend and bless the couple, bless the baby, take back the dead .

Such tremendous work.

Phew ! That is some serious work . Insane indeed.

Yet loved so much , revered so much and being thought of so much has its own perks.

Where else can you get all of this.

Maybe this is the Ultimate Job. Running everything and nothing.
Being the enigma,
The protagonist behind many stories, being written about in folklore, celebrated as heroes, legends and not forgotten for centuries to come...

The Gods are truly one great topic of interest...

If Gods had gossip, had social media, had smart phones and selfie sticks, had likes, dislikes and thumbsdowns ....

Just imagine , for once how would it be....

This is purely a work of random thought, not intented to belittle any feelings towards the God you worship, this is not against religion or pro religion.
It is but just another tale spun out of interesting questions.

#friyay#happyweekend

"Have a happy weekend !" He shouted across the empty office parking lot at 11 in the night , as I chugged my way to find my vehicle to head home. He was heading to the most happening pub in town to grab a beer and chill.

Happy weekend. This word stuck in my head and ignited a standard protocol of thoughts that raced along with me jogging and then running at full steam.

Happy, what exactly is happy ?
Why do we wish people happy weekend only, why not happy Mondays , Tuesday and each day of the week.
And also do we really mean the happy weekend, when we say so ? Do we really care that the other man has has a happy weekend or are we just doing it because everyone does it.

Why say happy ?
Why not interesting weekend ,
Satisfyinging weekend,
Meaningful weekend.

Are we heading towards a point where we need momentary happiness, thrills and chills but we do not seek meaning to this life.

We want a happy life, let all others go to hell . I want a happy life.
I want to party, I want to show my pictures on social media, tell the world I am happy , I am truly and magnificently happy.

We meet people solely now to take selfies and make memories. We are unsure of finding happiness packets later in life.
We find taking photos of food and posting it online to be more happening than eating it in the first place.
Meeting a celebrity is not about the person but you having met him and taken a selfie.

We are steam rolling towards a happy nation of happy weekends and happy people. Happiness is overflowing and flooding us in all corners of life.

As yourself this, are you happy ?
Or let me put it this way,
Momentary happiness Vs satisfactory meaning in life?
What would you choose ?

Our happy weekend normally involves sitting at home, eating good food and sleeping.
Or partying at a place. And posting it on social media as Friyay . ( That is the right spelling)

After all this ranting and babbling ,the only question that I asked myself is , do I want happy weekend Vs meaningful weekend ?

Do I rather have happy weekends Vs normal week or a happy week.

Does my happiness involve drinking binges, #friyay, partying Vs having a deep meaningful conversation with people, watering my garden and watching the sunset, or being with my family and simply chit chatting.

Where in lies happiness?

And thus I reached home.
Safe sound and oddly happy that I had ranted it all out.

The last fruit

Sometimes I get late to my office owing to waking up late, but on other days I am early or on time to catch the lonely bus to school.

On days that I come in early, I am always greeted by the pomerian dog on its early morning walk that pulls along the elderly gentleman on a daliy excercise ritual. The bells of the temple nearby ring in perfect replay each day like clock work. The voice of the flower and vegetable vendors are faint and hoarse from all the shouting in the early morning.

Then there is always my favourite passtime; just behind the bus stop there is a house , painted red and in one corner there is a small Gasgase tree.

The branches are over hanging and fall out of the house with a small pocket of canopy towards the road.And they bear fruit , little red berries that are sweet to taste and an absolute delight. When the branches are loaded with these fruits they hang lower. I am tempted to pluck a few and enjoy the free treat that mother nature gives us.

But there is just one problem. The house and the tree belongs to a very elderly gentleman who finds all his excercise in shooing away the men and women who pluck the fruits from his beloved tree.

To anyone who cares to listen, he explains in his grave tone; " I water the tree everyday, I nurture it with manure but everyone just plucks it off like it is their father's free gift."

At times I have tried to outsmart him and find myself a nice berry, all red and sweet, but like the sour grapes story I teach children at school it never happens.

When ever I almost have the prize in my hands, the old man comes in like a "berry hound" and gives me that stare akin to "Dare you to touch my tree". I am forced to move away with a sheepish expression on my face.
But the thrill of stealing a berry from under his nose is unparalleled.

It was another such random day when I was early to the bus stop. I had already made up my mind to have a field day today and make the most of the berries overhanging ; teasing me from ten days.

I got caught. The elderly man always had a scowl on his face. Today was no different. And he asked me ; " What do you want ?".
It was almost an accusation , but I could not help myself and I blurted out " I love the taste of these berries, i was just about to pluck a few ". I readied myself for the inevitable backlash.
But he looked back into the house and called reinforcements. I called all the gods and was about to encash my good grace when he called me in to the house and said, "take all the berries you want, this will be the last day you enjoy this opportunity."

There was a sense of acute sadness on his face. I had seen this person since ten years but I had never talked to him. Two men came and handed me around a hundred berries;all ripe and fruity smelling.

But his sense of sadness pulled me away and I looked at him and said thank you.

"It has been forty years in this locality. My sons and grandsons grew up in this house. We are moving away to an apartment that my son has brought. " Just then we heard the thuds from inside the house. "We havent even left the house yet but they have already started demolishing our house. This tree too shall be cut down. I have nurtured this tree for years but this tree will no longer be mine.Take all the berries you want. "

"So will you be moving I with your sons?" I quizzed.

He grew graver, " No no, they are all settled in the states and they need some one here to watch over their new apartment on the twenty third floor. There are no trees with overhanging branches he remarked.We are very much likely the free watchmen for the house.
We move tomorrow to my son's flat".

The berries though tasted wonderful. But it was the last time I saw the tree again. It was gone the next day.
The gentleman , the house, the tree, the berries.

We dont talk anymore

And then one day you start doing things that make you happy. The kind of things that you never knew that would bring so much happiness and calm to you and your inner self. A sense of "Inhalation and Exhalation "that feels so much pure and without the threads of modern day pulls.

But this new idea, this new change is something that is new and like all new things it posts a warning sign to who ever is near and dear. Then you have ' Q n A' sessions with them and start being analysed why this new hobby appeals to you.

There is no time for a correct and we'll rehearsed answer, so you   just say "I don't know". Before long there are versions and commentaries on why this "new me is the not the best me ", the idea seems alien that I am in a position to move from one hobby to another , one affiliation to another and seek the blessings of all those near and dear ones.

Yet these very near and dear ones are embarking and embracing their own drugs and needs to make sense of their lives, following their own methods of madness, getting high on weed, smoking their lungs out and drinking like baboons.

Then they meet my wall. I cut them off from all modes of communication. I am being selfish here. Aren't I ?

I cut them off like old appendages and move ahead ,steam rolling my way towards my own madness.

I make them meet my wall, greet them like they want to be greeted and smile their smile for a few more times. And then I let the silence sink and cut the umbilical cord.

We dont talk anymore, like we used to do.

I have been given titles, called names and been forgotten altogether.The happy opportunity of watching me, dissecting my actions, discrening my decisions, predicting my moves is all yours.

Go on catergorise me, and put me in any general formula, but do remember that shall be the end of it all...