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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1680260-For-Gods-Sake
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1680260
God grows weaker as people begin to lose faith, as Satan bemusedly watches on.

The meadow was peaceful, serene. The ankle length grass was caressed lovingly by the breeze. The trees swayed to it akin to a hypnotic salsa with melodies provided by the bustling birds. The river gurgled happily like a new-born infant, twisting and turning in a convoluted path before culminating in a magnificent waterfall over a gargantuan lake. The concept of time was alien in this utopia. You could sit here for a minute, an hour, a year and not know the difference. The atmosphere was vibrant, reinvigorating.   

God was worried.

He sat on the riverbank glumly, feet immersed in the cool nectar gazing out uninterestedly into the distance. He could think of nothing to do anymore. The crowd here was ominously sparse and he had already talked with the smattering of inhabitants a multitude of times. What was more worrisome was that he had grown remarkably weak in recent times. Sometimes in the death of night, he would wake up abruptly feeling dizzy. Dizzy. The last time he felt dizzy was during the dark ages. What was happening to him?

He smiled sadly when he saw a little girl chasing a butterfly all over the meadow. More and more of new arrivals were children now. The pure and untainted innocence on her face as she happily followed the iridescent insect lifted his spirits a little. The smile was instantaneously replaced by a grimace as another bout of dizziness occurred. This was too much. Maybe it was the inactivity. He should stretch himself, visit places.

His head jerked up, suddenly alert. He could visit Joe. It had been quite some time since they had met and they could share tales, swap stories. He always found conversations with Joe to be immensely interesting and fulfilling albeit they disagreed on a host of issues. Maybe the weakness was mutual and they could get to the root of it if so. In any case, it was something to do. Joe would be surprised to see him. It was always he who had been the visitor on previous occasions. Well, he hoped Joe’s surprise was a pleasant one.

And he mustn’t call him Joe, God reprimanded himself mentally. It irritated him no end. He had some fancy, cavalier name now. What was it? Oh, yes. Satan.

***

“What in devil’s name are YOU doing here?”
“Not happy to see me, Joe? It’s been so long, I thought I’d drop by.”
“Thought you’d drop by? Well, that’s new, but I’m gratified. And stop calling me Joe. I thought I’d mentioned that a few times in passing. Like a thousand?”
“Okay okay. Calm down, my red friend. I see you are as volatile and culpable to erupt as before.”
“You’re the same dunder-headed diplomat as well. Hmm… except that you’ve lost some weight. Anyway, how’s Gandhi for company?”
“Well, he doesn’t do much except spin his wheel.” God confessed. “But whatever snippets of conversation I got proved him to be the epitome of truth and non-violence that he is.” He hastened to add.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s a barrel of laughs. Speaking of which, you have GOT to come and meet Adolf. The man is amazing; he’s the life of every party I throw.”
“I’d much rather not. The colourful activities he partook in rather overshadow his colourful personality for me.”
“Awww, lighten up. He’s sorry for that. He killed himself, didn’t he? What more do you want?”
“You seem to have a lot of arrivals.” God said, steering clear of Hitler.
“That’s right. In fact, the place has never been this crowded. It’s like one of the whatdyocallems- local trains- in Mumbai. Why, are you having a drought?”
“Well, no not exactly a drought. It’s just that, at this moment and time, there is a lack of sufficient number of new arrivals. It’s less than usual, that’s all.”
“So you’re having a drought?”
“Yes.” God said, sighing. “I don’t understand. People can’t be committing so many sins. Or don’t they want to come there anymore? We have rivers of milk and honey.”
“Well, we have a Mickey D’s. You’ll be surprised what people would do for fries.”
“We have clean air, huge meadows.”
“I can say with some conviction that a vast majority would prefer the hookah parlours we have here.”
“We have beautiful nymphs, gorgeous angels.”
“You don’t even want to get me started on what we have here.” Satan said, a twinkle in his eye. “Besides, what do you expect Gandhi to do with nymphs and angels?”
“Come now, Joe.” God said pursing his lips as Satan sniggered. “Must you always be so crass and vulgar?”
“You should try it sometime. And stop calling me Joe, you simpleton.”
“Nonetheless, I impl-“ God started, but suddenly staggered and just about managed to keep himself erect, holding onto his cane, breathing heavily.
“What’s the matter with you?” Satan asked, more bemused than concerned. “Have you started drinking again?”
“I don’t drink.” God replied coldly. “I’ve been having these irksome attacks of dizziness. I wonder if you were experiencing anything similar.”
“Nope. I’m just as strong as ever. I’ve seldom felt better.”
“I-I’m glad to hear that.” God said, betraying his true emotions with a slump of his shoulders. “Well, I’m sure this will pass in time.”
“Unless..” Satan said, stroking his goatee. Upon further prodding, he said “Well, unless people have stopped believing in you.”
“I assure you that nothing of that sort has happened.” God said, clearly affronted. “May I also suggest that you control that wily tongue of yours and exercise your red cells before speaking.”
“Alright, don’t go all high and mighty on me. It’s not like it’s never happened before. Are you forgetting the Dark Ages?”
“I remember very well, thank you.”
“Good then. Maybe people think that you aren’t doing enough to absolve them of their sufferings or something.”
“But I couldn’t possibly do any more!”
“Oh, you don’t need to tell me that.” Satan said sullenly. “You’re the only thing that’s stopping me from going in full-on apocalyptic mode. Still, you’d better check the place out once.”
“Actually, I think I will. It was good to see you again, friend.”
“Likewise. Maybe you’d like to join me later in some meteor throwing? Bulls-eye if you hit a city.”
“No thank you and I sincerely hope you’re joking.”
“Well, yes.” Satan said reluctantly. “I already did that during the Triassic.”
“You amaze me.” God said, and left with Satan’s satiric barb ringing in his ears-
“Oh come on! What difference are some grubby humans going to make?”
***
Earth, the azure and emerald hued gem. A marvellous specimen of nature’s inventiveness and creativity. Also a glaring reminder of how fragile and temporary life is. Indeed, it would cease to exist if the Earth were moved infinitesimally to either side. It seemed a wonder of probability that it was situated where it was. That and God’s continued efforts to keep it there in spite of Satan’s sudden pushing and pulling, which often resulted in earthquakes.

God felt that, for all of man’s inherent flaws and shortcomings, he was quite a likable creature. He could get a little ahead of himself sometimes, but his fortitude and willingness to learn evened that out. God forayed in, optimistic but cautious in his attempt to gauge man’s mood.

The majestic African savannah- Habitat to a variety of species, both delightful and dangerous. Unfortunately, that is the extent of the majesty. Poverty and disease run rampant among most of the inhabitants. Children are stunted, deformed. Malaria plays with their lives as it wishes. The rapacious government supresses the people; who are trapped in a deadly cobweb with nowhere to go. Where is God? The people ask in despair. Is there a God? They ask. God gives them strength, channelling his own power into each, for that is all he can do. The people continue plugging away, somehow making ends meet. The active and restless youth probe the cities for job opportunities, rarely finding any. Hey. One youth says. I heard that white men give big money for rhino horns, elephant tusks and cheetah hides. So the youth hunt, the only thing they know to do. Rhinos are felled, cheetahs slaughtered, horns and hides sold to keep families running. Wildlife Organizations are in outrage, protesting vociferously against the ‘poaching’. What sort of God lets this happen? They ask. Is there a God?

The Indian subcontinent- A society emerging from dark depths of slavery and subservience, gingerly licking its wounds and determined to make a niche for itself. The parents worry unrelentingly. After all, their child is the next generation. He/she will form the next batch of doctors/engineers/scientists, they will make sure he/she does. Their reasons for doing so vary from He’ll be able to make a decent living to The neighbours will be so jealous. God gives the children strength, channelling his own power into them, for that is all he can do. The children study hard, pass exams by hook or crook. Quite a few are shuttled into the wrong profession due to pressure. They grow up to be incompetent doctors, faulty engineers, useless scientists. Still others find the never-ending burden of studies and expectations too heavy to bear, ending their careers (and sometimes lives) prematurely. Why is God punishing us like this? They ask. Is there a God?

The United States of America- The leading superpower of the world, the pinnacle of human civilization. But with the countless virtues of development and urbanization come the equally numerous vices. Men get drunk, beat their wives. Wives get drunk, beat their child. Children get high to escape their nightmarish lives. Schoolteachers shoot their colleagues and students when they are refused a raise. Depression and insecurity reigns. Poor diseases are replaced by rich ones- Heart attacks, cardiovascular disease, high blood pressure, AIDS. Obese people try to reduce weight, despair upon failure and eat more to lift their spirits. The heart rate increases upon viewing a person of another race. What sort of lives are we leading? They ask. Is there a God?

Countries don’t trust each other. Countrymen don’t trust each other. People don’t trust each other. Brother betrays brother. Countries have nuclear missiles pointed at each other, needing only the slightest provocation or a slightly deranged dictator to bring about Armageddon. Earth was teetering on the edge and the only person responsible for preventing it going over the edge was the person who was abused and doubted the most.

Well, that was not entirely true. There were men of God, men who believed unconditionally. They knew the world wasn’t perfect, but they knew it couldn’t be. They were at peace with it and knew that someone up there was trying his best to make it a liveable place. As they raise their hands, fold their hands, close their eyes in prayer, they acknowledge that things could be better, but they could be a lot worse. And that is when the temple, the mosque, the church is blown up, smashed to smithereens by Godless creatures whose sole purpose is to foster fear and uncertainty.

The world is a pissed off place, an asylum chock-a-block with nutcases and whack jobs. The microscopic minority of good, sane folks and quickly converted. People swindle, cheat, loot and steal. People con, rip-off, scam and deceive. People sell their mother for money. Any good thing accomplished is a product of their prodigious skill and talent, but any failure triggers a barrage of insults thrown towards God and the bemoaning of bad luck. The world is teetering on the edge, and it is going over.

The world is a pissed off place and it now has a pissed off God.
***
God was back at his meadow. The dizziness was more frequent now. It was so peaceful here, so unlike the meadow of madness he had just visited. He thought he finally understood why more people preferred Hell. It reminded them of Earth.

The little girl was still in ceaseless pursuit of the kaleidoscopic creature. Gandhi was still spinning. But God was growing weaker. The eternal optimist that he was, he firmly believed that things would get better. But equally firm was his belief that they would get worse first. He just hoped that Joe wouldn’t take advantage of his condition and go in ‘full-on apocalyptic mode’ as he articulately put it. But all this while, a tiny thought was nagging at the extremities of his mind. He didn’t want to hear it, tried not to hear it. But no matter how much he tried, Satan’s question came back, and (although he wouldn’t admit it) God was not in complete disagreement with it.

“What difference are some grubby humans going to make?”

And then everything went black.









 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 




     
     
     
     
   

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