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God

By Navaneeta Bhandiwad





You want to become God. You crave for powers no one can dream of, to conquer worlds, to create new realities. You dream ahead while your peers search for pieces on the ground. You have transpired grand plans that even timelessness isn’t enough for you. You can only sympathize with those facing death. You sneer at those satisfied with their lives; you could never imagine living only up to a few decades, you dwell in the future You want to be etched into eternity, in the abyss. The world is your muse; you also want it to be at your feet, worshipping you.

Remember that the uncertainty of the limitless is daunting. You stay, but your loved ones fade. You exist long enough to conjure up a sin. Live for centuries and no one remembers. The melancholy of nostalgia haunts you. An immortal body where the soul withers away, an empty vessel, an abode with no warmth.

Time waits only for you, yet your life is one long, dragged minute. Dialogues transmute to countless monologues, loneliness your second nature, emptiness a feeling. You witness life around you with a hollow heart. All around you is a celebration of life, while you’re a victim of monotony. You embody injustice, a grotesque violation of nature. What you dreamt of vividly has become a vague reality; melodies have become noise. You’re shackled by chains of realization that in the end your greed won, but at a hefty cost.

Do you not see the joy of living and the peace of dying with those around you? The quiet moments of togetherness engraved as whispers for only you to know. The simple joys of life that only you know. New experiences, with the same people is a boon that you’d understand when it’s too late. You’re agonized at being the one to wanting to achieve it all, not grasping that generations after you would continue.

So, tell me again, why do you want to devour the elixir? Why do you want to become God when it is so lonely up there? When the line between angels and devils is so distorted that they come together to pity you? Dreams can be cruel too.


By Navaneeta Bhandiwad




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