Lord, God, Master

Few days back as I was staring into my laptop screen desperately praying that the presentation there would suddenly have a life of its own and become of a quality that would change the face of Middle Earth forever, (just like the Duracell bunny removed all difference it had with the Playboy bunny) a mail popped up on my screen saying, “O you evil souls and sellers of soaps and soups and detergents and toothpastes, rejoice, for now you shall be taken to Goa.”

I guess no one read the mail beyond that to understand what would happen in Goa. It was just exciting to be out of your cubicle. We did a lot of things in Goa. For example, we stayed in a freaking expensive hotel whose rooms had open air showers (You have to see it to believe it. In case you can’t, imagine taking bath under a waterfall standing on pebbles) without any doors separating the room with the bath room. Anyway, before you get unreasonably excited about the possibilities that are showcased in Priyadarshan movies, let me tell you that we found the easy way out. All of us became bathroom singers to let everyone know that there was someone under the shower.

This is the other Goa. The Goa of the rich and famous. Here hotels have their private beaches, places where you can play football while the waves wash your feet – something I have always wanted to do. And though I shall always root for Germany in the World Cups, I realized why the Bengali within my heart would always dance the Samba.

It was a regular team bonding trips of corporate India. But one night something happened. The private beach of the hotel had rows of the wooden couches where in movies women and men with great bodies lie but in reality you see layers of parched adipose tissues, unless of course you are unbelievably lucky.

Anyway, it was two in the night and I was lying there alone. It was high tide. The waves came very close and almost threatened to touch the grounds near me. It was not the gentle sea of the day. Rather it was the animal let out of its chain out to devour anything that stands in the way. Looking at the waves I felt powerful beyond all measure. There was not a single soul in sight and I began to feel like God. I felt I was the One who created everything, the beginning till the end. The Alpha and the Omega.

The waves kept on coming closer. I waited to see whether they finally would bend before their master. Suddenly, all fell still. A last roar of wave came along and washed the entire shore. Beside me I found an Oyster, still breathing. Perhaps it was my best chance in life to find a pearl, perhaps it was not. But to pry open one living organism to look at what precious stone it held seemed ungodly. I was after all the Lord, God, Master. I took the oyster, walked towards the sea and safely put it back. The gift of life was greater than the Mother of All Pearls, if any such thing existed.

And suddenly at that point of time I felt scared. It’s dangerously alone to be the Creator; it’s an unbelievable responsibility which no Human can ever undertake. God is lonely and that loneliness is unimaginable. I took a last look back at the sea.

To choose whether to be a God or a mortal is often easy. I walked back towards the shore, towards mortality, towards humanity.