God – Man – Demon

Keep walking. The foot is the most ancient mode of travel. The footprints of millions guide your direction. When you go to your village during a festival, worship that soil. Your forefathers shed their sweat there, transforming earth into gold for survival—those sacred farmers.

To the watcher's eye, everything is beauty. But the world’s greatest disease is blurred vision—a strange illness that cannot see clearly. A marble mistaken for a mountain in a narrow courtyard.

Beware, for snakes now wear silk robes. Wolves roam disguised as teachers of dharma and scriptures. In a single man, there are many crowds. Unfamiliar faces stare back from the mirror.

In corporate offices, machines made of gelatin churn out replicas. The first head-producer started it all. Man and machine living together is the modern mantra.

Life is a voyage on a boat. One must sail through joy and sorrow. Lovers of sorrow are growing in number. Smiling is now a crime. Learn to flee—like a deer chased by a tiger. You live in time, and time lives in you. But one day, the clock must stop.

Looking at leaders, even sunflowers forget their colors. Truth and lies now blend like whiskey and soda—indistinguishable. Convincing others is now the 65th fine art. A new social craft.

Misbelief, mistrust, adharma, injustice—“A” is not just the first letter. It’s a guiding star. A form coiled like a snake. A premature falling star.

Only movies end with “Shubham” (a happy ending). Life is not entertainment in a dark room. There is no green mat or graphics. Only reality. Our leaders have long known artificial intelligence. They can create anything. Since independence, they’ve been showing us the Great India Magic Show—throwing ropes into the air and making people climb them. There is no heaven, and the ground isn’t visible.

If you teach sheep to cheat the shepherds, heads will roll. The one who sharpens the sword always lives a stiffened life. The one who waters roses waits endlessly for wages. Hunger knows no beauty. The artisan weaving royal silk lives in a dark pit of a loom. Behind every luxury is the silent sacrifice of silk worms, and the collection of thousands of drops of sweat.

Where is the line between heaven and hell? Hell knows of heaven, but has never touched it. The grower withers in the sun. Sculptors are worn down by hammer blows. The blacksmith's hunger never cools in the fire.

God is good. But man made God. And by becoming God himself, he turned into a demon.