Meeting God (481 words)

 

When I easily reached the sanctum sanctorum and gazed upon God bathed in sandalwood, a voice from nowhere asked, “Did you grease someone’s palm to enter here?”

 I shuddered in disbelief and confessed in fear, “Yes.”

“It is unethical. When you meet me next Sunday, it will be elsewhere and you don’t have to bribe or wait. It will be instantaneous,” said the voice.

Drenched in sweat and fear, I thought of the many unfinished things like my unwritten will, collecting the huge loans given to trusted friends, the several benami transactions of land and property and legal disputes. I thought of my grieving family with my wife and two young children.

I was hardly able to walk. I pinched myself to ensure I was not dreaming.

Suddenly, the voice softened and continued, “But fear not, for this is your chance to change. Your actions today have brought you to this moment, but you can make amends. Use the time you have to set things right.”

Determined, I decided to address all my unfinished business ethically. I wrote my will, reached out to friends to settle debts amicably, paid the dues and made arrangements to transfer properties honestly.I also set aside liberally for charity.

When Sunday came, I was filled with a mix of apprehension and peace. I decided to live a life of honesty and truth, with no greed but a charitable disposition. I reached the nearby park, expecting a divine encounter. Instead, I found myself at the park with many children playing on the swings and slides and families enjoying the day. I hailed a sugar candy vendor making balls of cotton-like candies in colours and asked him to give one or two to each one of them. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw the children dancing happily with candies in their hands.

It was then I heard a soft cough from nearby. Confused, I looked around until I saw an old man sitting on a bench, smiling at me. “You’re here,” he said warmly. “Sit with me.”

I sat beside him like an obedient student, and he handed me a small, worn-out book. “This is your new beginning,” he said. “Every good deed, every moment of kindness, will fill these pages starting from today’s candies to the children. Live each day as if you’re writing a story worth telling.”

As I opened the book, I saw the first entry written in elegant script: Today, you chose to live with integrity and compassion.

I looked up, but the old man was gone. The park seemed even brighter, and my heart felt lighter. I realised that meeting God wasn’t about leaving this world but transforming my life within it. Every action, every choice, was a step toward the divine.

I walked away from the park, ready to fill my new book's pages with a life worth living.