The Disowned God

The redevelopment keeda had made a home in every heart and hearth. Not a sane human was left who wanted to exist as a chawl dweller or a modest kholi owner. Everyone desired to be an occupant of a high rise that would be named as Falcon Heights or Eagle's view or something similar. Falcon and eagle was only that was possible as sparrows had long left the city. Soon it had to vultures hovering the skies.

With so much of affluence in the air, how could God not fall for the trap?

 After all, he was the man's God. If man wished to shift to a high rise wouldn't God want to go a bit higher. Thus, God too decided to sign the redevelopment contract with the Heavens Building Developer. God was promised a huge territory spreading from the temples of Hindus to the mosques of  Muslim. 

The builder said, "You royal entity, one abode isn't sufficient for you. You must exist in the Temple, Mosques, Gurudwaras, Church, Agyaris and what not."

God asked, "And what are these?"

"Oh, these are just forms of architectural designs made to suit your grandiose." The sly builder replied.

God stretched his back, put up his legs and with closed eyes listened to the music called Redevelopment Plan. The contract was signed. A piece of paper defined God's fate.

Years passed by and whatever the builder said was granted to God. Now God mercilessly threw away his simple, one stop destination of existence in the same trash where the human building material lay. 

In the debris of a million homes, God's house still commanded attention. God now hopped from the temple to the mosque to the church enjoying myriad of rituals and pampering. Some sang hymns in his name while some washed his feet in milk. Some put him to sleep under velvet blankets while others gently woke him with chants. Then came a time when all claimed their God to be best, to be superior over the other. They fought and build walls. They broke what was according to them not their God. God lost his precious abodes. The builder raised his hands saying the contract was complete and now it was God's lookout to handle the crisis. There came a time people forgot to worship God. He was angry, hungry and thirsty. 

That's when God came across his old home. A little girl with sooty nose and tattered clothes had placed her shriveled up pup in it. She cared for him like it was her God. God's disowned abode was put to good use. Everyday the girl would bring pieces of stale bread thrown at her mercy to feed her pup. God relished this Prasad. From a shabby cup, she helped the pup quench his thirst. God's parched throat blessed this tirth. At night, she covered it with rags that was her bed. God felt rich. That was God's story from rags to riches! 

One day the pup all fat and full disappeared from the abode. Yet, the girl didn't go hunting for it. For she had never owned it. Only loved it. Cared for it from the bottom of her shattered heart. God thanked her for not reducing his identity to papers and contracts, to temples and mosques. He was not on the piece land called masjid or mandir. He was in her peace of mind.

God went back to his simple, original home- into the hearts and faith of his creation. He went back to occupy the crammed space between the body and soul, between the girl and her pup. It was difficult to adjust for there was hardly any space. But this space had quietude and solace. This space was free from the cycle of being owned and disowned. 

God had attended nirvana.