THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY

 I think the Universe is hinting me the reason as to why my life is so screwed up. Since I don’t go with the whole Bad Karma from the previous birth lashing it down on me in this one, there has to be another theory regarding my catastrophic existence. So today I was comfortably placed on the couch and eating pasta out of a bowl artistically placed on my belly while switching channels on the TiVo. HBO, the messenger of God for me now was airing the movie ‘The Gods Must Be Crazy’ and I decided to settle for it. The movie was nearing its end and it appeared to be about two little African kids with protruding tummies wearing ancient thongs. The eyes where fixed on the screen while the mind was suddenly infected by an elusive idea as to why my life is not proceeding as planned. 

My mother was the one who taught me to pray and that too to do it real hard. I was taught this one particular prayer even before the words in that prayer made sense to me. The prayer was directed to a South Indian Hindu God my family piously follows and the subject of the prayer was to show me the right path, to bestow upon the world happiness, peace to prevail among the people around me and also a nightmare free sleep to me. The prayer started and ended with the name of that particular God. Let us for the purpose of this story call the referred God as ‘X’. Now this prayer stuck to me like a dry cough that never goes away. Be it the temple of any of the million Hindu Gods or even the Church, I always repeated the same anti-nightmare prayer directed to God ‘X’ before all of them. This might be the reason why the God’s are so pissed off with me. 

Now consider this, your name is say Obama and you hold the top rank in your country. You receive a mail from a plebeian referring you as Manmohan Singh, who also holds a top mute rank in his country. At the first instance you will forward the mail to Mr Manmohan Singh, ignoring the misjoinder of your name in the mail. But when the mails keep pouring in and all of them are terming you as Mr Manmohan Singh, you feel that it is on purpose and you get really angry. You stop forwarding the mails to Mr M and eventually you block the emailing bimbo. God’s must have ego clashes too!!

Thus, none of my prayers ever reached God X, for the place I live at lacks a temple of that God ‘X’, the South Indian Mallu God. I am the emailing bimbo for the rest of the gazillion Gods. Hence the baseless life, the thoughtless action, the stagnant existence, the spiceless reality and the nightmare ruled sleep.

Don’t call me nuts for when you are stuck on a boat with the sails missing and you can see that it is rapidly moving towards a life threatening waterfall, you too will come up with ideas however absurd as to why are you in that horrendous situation at the first place. I did the same.

P.S- In other news, I am an awesome cook!!Also I am a narcissist.

P.P.S- I hate dentists! Must visit one today. Fuck you cavity!!!