Life After Death : What’s Your Plan ?

Heaven, Hell or Someplace Else????

We all talk about where we will eventually go after death and as I was chatting with my kids I realized that all we wanted was to lead a great life on earth and let our spirit find its own destination. This is what I felt about the choice between heaven and Hell.

I never want to leave this beautiful planet. I want to stay here as a spirit and make my presence felt on the earth for the people who love and care for me and especially for those who dislike me yet say sugary things on my face and cuss words, the moment I am out of sight.

I want to be here for all those so-called priests, shamans, healers and other exorcist who are minting money by supporting the superstitions and beliefs of the masses by practicing witchcraft and exorcism. Maybe I can be reborn as a witch and haunt these scoundrels who fool innocent minds.

In India and many places around the globe, even after such development people are still rooted to age-old superstitions and rituals which make them do long expensive pujas (religious ceremonies), beat the pulp out of women for being a living witch or to remove  presence of a bhoot (bad spirit) from inside a person instead of treating his delirium and fits, clinically. Many people die due to this lack of awareness.

As a free spirit I want to sojourn among the beautiful mountains, valleys and all those secret hideouts and much desired “you will not go there ever” places.

Being a spirit is going to be great fun too . Imagine the endless things one can do without being noticed. I leave the list to your imagination. That is one more thing one needs to set free.

I strongly believe in reincarnation and also that we wander across the timelessness in soul groups. I would rather make a cult called ‘Souls on wanderlust’ and conduct soul tours on earth.

I do not want my obituary to say “so and so went for her heavenly abode. May her soul rest in peace”.

I doubt if there is any peace in heaven.

I do not believe in this Heaven and hell concept but even if I did, who wants to go to Heaven anyways? If ever there is a question of choice I would any day prefer Hell. I guess atheists are not welcome in heaven for all that we know.

Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.

Here are my reasons for my preference.

The heaven is too crowded with people who are confused whether they want to be there or elsewhere .Most of the people there do not fit into the rules and conditions laid for heaven goers. Almost all in the list of ‘went to their heavenly abode’ list have a dubious record on the earth .Everyone seems to be heading for heaven regardless of what they are .Imagine the list of people you will meet if you stay in heaven. You could not see eye to eye with them on earth how will you survive in heaven? It sure seems like an absolute madhouse to me.

Heaven is surely plagued by chaotic conditions with a heady mixture of saints and angles and our esteemed personalities from all walks of life .I marvel at the way God must be handling that entire crisis above that has shifted from earth during ages and is still continuing.

I often think if there are boundaries and LOC’s in heaven too, for hell is the same for everyone irrespective of religion caste or creed, Heaven on the other hand is seen differently by different cultures, religions.

There are so many Gods and so many views.

What is life without a dash of color in it! Imagine people roaming around in white robes surrounded by cherubs and holy men singing the praise of almighty 24/7 .That’s music to them. Not my kind of place.

Indian side of heaven will have more gods than people and there will be continues struggle for a little space for each one. Gods dresses in fine silks and laden with gold and diamonds. A scene straight from some Bollywood movie. There will be bhang (cannabis plant leaf), dope and sura (local liquor), apsaras (women), exclusively for our Gods. Won’t that break heart s of many living there? How frustrating.

At least in hell there is no such system .It is each one to its own and there is always scope for home improvement .We can always make it a better place to live in. The best part is that I will be ‘greeted by loved ones’. As far as the raging fires and boiling oil drums go, I think that’s a publicity gimmick by those who stand for heaven, just to attract more people.

Heaven is no place for honest fun-loving people. Too many rules .Too much ‘holier than thou’ attitude.

No bars, no clubs, no adventure and no sex, no romance. The place seems to be worse than our earth. The pleasure factor is totally missing.

How we going to live man?

To all those who will say that the things I mentioned will end with the body and the spirit does not seek pleasure or experience pain, I want to ask one question.

If what you say is true then, why this over powering urge to crowd heaven? The unending rituals, ‘one good deed a day’ and that entire eye wash that we do to attain nirvana and ensure our place in heaven. Why not settle for hell or some place else? Why not just enjoy our stay on earth and let the soul take its course after death.

This discussion is endless and controversial too. I, for one, do not want to be a permanent resident of any of the two places .Though hell would be a place to come back to in case of emergencies. Most of the time I want to tour with my ‘Souls On Wanderlust’ (SOW) buddies and I am sure there are hundreds willing to join me, they just need to connect with each other. So, I am not going to heaven, see you in hell buddy. Hey do not forget to join my cult.

I already have two members.

This seems to be a great job for a jobless person like me .

Short Story : A Price for Freedom

My name is Mittu. It not a name given by my parents. In fact I never had any name till Sanju found me. I was born in a village by the river. It had fruit gardens and mustard fields. I lived there with my family and a friend. My father was killed when I was a baby. He was electrocuted. Since then I have been afraid of electric poles and those snake-like high voltage wires.

My mother brought up me and my two siblings with great care and affection. I was the most handsome looking among all the young children in our group. My mother always kept an eye on me until that fateful day.

I was out in the mango orchard on a fine sunny Sunday when something hit me on my back and I fell on the ground witching with pain. A boy stood there with a sling shot laughing mercilessly. He picked me up roughly, took me home and caged me.

Since then I am here. Sanju, as I later found his name, was a ruffian who had no love for any one. He fought with other children, brutally kicked the street dogs, poked the village cows and troubled his parents no end.

He even cut my wings and poked me with a sharp thing insisting that I should say his name. I cried in vain .Sometimes the kind woman of the house threatened Sanju and made him run but mostly she was herself so oppressed by the two male members in her home that I was left alone to fight my battle. She was Sanju’s mother.

She would get up at about four in the morning and whole day she slogged in the house, got water from the well, cut grass in the fields, tended the cows and silently took the abuses and sometimes beatings of her drunkard husband. Thankfully he was rarely at home. He stayed in a home nearby with another woman who liked to put on a lot of make up and made him dance to her tunes. I know because Sanju one day took me there. She did not allow him to leave me at her home so we had to return the same night.

I liked Sanju’s mother. I think she understood my sorrow and misery just as I did hers. Many a times she would gaze at the open sky and then look at me with such kindness and passion that it made my heart melt. I too would look out from my cage and watch the swaying trees, the birds merrily chirping on them, the vast sky with candy floss clouds.

She would sigh too and get back to work .Like me she too was caged in her home, dying to spread her wings and free her from all the shackles. We developed a silent bond between us. She would smile and talk to me when alone in the house. Many a times I heard her singing to herself. She taught me to say RAM RAM but this I would say only when the two tyrants were not around. Sanju continued to bully me and even kept me hungry for two days when she went to attend some wedding in the next village.

I watched in horror as she suffered abuses from her husband as well as her son. Many a times there would be no food left for her and she would go hungry. Some times if she had a little left to eat Sanju would demand food again and she would lovingly forego her meal. It infuriated me but I was just a spectator. No one was concerned about her well-being. Even when the men wore new clothes I always saw her in an old sari.

I longed to get out of the cage and tried in vain to open the latch .She must have noticed me doing that because one day she opened the cage and set me free. There was a small wall made of mud where she set me with her soft hands and smilingly said, “Fly away little bird. Enjoy your freedom.”

I wanted to take her with me. I looked at her with moist eyes and tried to spread my wings and fly but fell on my face.

I discovered with horror that No bird with chopped wings could fly. It was the most helpless moment of my life. She too watched with silent pain as she carefully lifted me and caressed my back.

She took me back in the veranda and made me sit near her as she cooked the lunch. She talked with me of her childhood and many other things and I jumped around her in joy, trying to respond as well as I could. I had never seen her so happy.

I would perch on her shoulder as she would hang clothes on the clothes line or just hop around alongside when she cleaned the veranda with a small broom. We became inseparable. Two friends who were resigned to their fate and making the best of it. Life got some meaning for both of us and I did not miss my mother and family that much.

Whole day I would roam around free, eating fruits, nuts and other good stuff. Sometimes I would drop a few nuts in her lap or do some antics which would make her laugh. That would make her look ten years younger. It pleased me no ends to watch her laugh and enjoy.

Life went on well till the day she fell sick. Although she could barely walk, she still did her routine work. I felt sorry and frustrated. Her condition went from bad to worse and the two heartless men abandoned her and moved into the big house of that fashionable lady.

She mutely watched her plight.

Sanju did not care much about me anymore so I roamed free and the cage was put in one corner. I would silently sit near her bed watching her muttering to herself .The little girl who sometimes came to take milk now came once a day to feed her. She even gave me water and food. I prayed for her happiness.

She died in her sleep after few days. I was beside her when she breathed last. My cries must have brought the little girl’s mother for she came and hurriedly informed the others.

I now stay with her family. Many a time I go to the abandoned house and look around and feel her warm presence.

She got freedom from all her miseries and so did I in a different way. Each one of us gained our freedom with a price to pay.