Knocking on Heaven's Door

After having spent a lifetime wading through the monstrosity of human struggle for nothing, Anwar stood at the gates of heaven. Finally, the final home was here. But where that man was, Rizwan, the gatekeeper, or was it Chitragupta? Anwar couldn’t care less. The gates shall open soon and there shall be his interminable supply of wine and virgins. Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Will he have a new name? Having a right name, and the surname most importantly, was good. Because having the wrong one was horrible, Anwar had known, little love & too much politics. He stretched his neck. The stiletto that was stabbed in his neck was still there. There was no pain, no blood, but just the bloody stiletto which had travelled to the gates of heaven with the naked man. He wondered if that too will be answerable for his death. Knock. Knock. Knock.

He still had memories. Not so fond ones. There was no spotless mind, alas, but why. There was peace but no chaos to look for it in the first place. No death. No birth. And hopefully, no rebirth either. No sunshine. No moonlit trails by the river. No morning azan. No chai. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Rizwan! Anwar shouted. Chitraguptaji!

Once upon a time while replying to another of the stupid fucking journalists, Bruce Lee had said – If I am pointing at the moon, do not look at my fucking finger. But why was Anwar thinking of that now? He looked at his fucking finger. There was no moon, of course. Shit. Knock. Knock. Knock.

May be Bruce Lee will be there. He looked around but there was nothing apart from that gate. But this was certainly not that nothing which that Baba was talking about while sucking up Anwar’s consciousness through his chillum over a boat in the middle of Ganges in Shiva’s own city. Shiva was smart. Stoner city for the devotees, and himself in the hills… Cool, very cool… Like daddy cool, made Anwar crazy like a fool. Knock. Knock. Knock. 

And suddenly he could see more gates. And more people. Where were they coming from and where did they want to go? Their halo of social validation was shining bright. There were no animals at the gates of heaven, all of them stayed back with Shiva in the hills. Nobody was looking for God at the gates of heaven. Privileged motherfuckers! Anwar suddenly started to look for God. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

If you are knocking at my door, do not point your fucking fist at me. Bruce Lee shouted. Anwar had tried to do things right. Treat people right. Do good, as his mama had told him, and people will do well to you too. That was not true. She must be in hell. Could he go there instead?

Rizwan! Anwar shouted. Chitraguptaji!   

Where was Rizwan? Where was Chitragupta? Knock. Knock. Knock. Where was death? Here. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. What would he ask of them? Hopefully, rebirth.

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