Your silence has been bothering me for some time now…”
God murmured from his usual favourite corner: next to Death, next to me and near the broken table. As the long corridor ends at his table, the stench of civilisation starts overpowering your imagination.
White and black
West and East
Theist and atheist
Communist and capitalist
And
Those billions of men and women whose lives stand erased without a trace: an act everyone loves to call evolution, and I call filth of generations.
“ I have no questions for your answers.” Gulping the leftover rum from the glass, God continued.
He took out the dead fruit fly from his mouth.
Perhaps it was drinking rum from God’s glass, and then it fell in it: it was half dead,
Why on earth did it have to fall in that glass?
Fate may.
I don’t know.
In Geetha, the Bible, the Koran and the Marxist holy book communist manifesto, every action in our lives has a consequence: the almighty fatalist fate
“ I never knew to fly can drink rum,…” exclaimed Death.
“ Rum never knew the fly will fall …” God continued to murmur.
“ Rum is usually made from sugar cane juice...flies like sugar cane juice …”
The white sugar: the taste of our coffee breaks
And
the rum that relieves us from memories comes from the same cane juice.
Harvested among millions of debt-stricken-debt-stricken farmer suicides,
White sugar and brown rum always tasted sweet.
My smile is sweet.
Your dream is sweet
White sweet is a fate
The eternal consequence theory of everything
Religious
Marxist
Capitalist
And
Scientific.
Fortunately, I am drunk
God is drunk
So is the Death
The old shabby restaurant slowly turned into a mesmerising civilisation
Your questions have no answer in me
Flies will always fall into it
Will get drunk and die …
God went to sleep. So is Death
As I walked past doors, a shutter was waiting to close: not FATE as usual, only a routine.
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