God's Answer

The mix of dark sky reflections and the night lights of Mumbai cast a strange magic across the sleeping city. From above, everything looked calm and peaceful. The noise of the day seemed to fade into small golden lights. It felt relaxing, even healing. But behind every lit window and closed door, there was a different story.

On close view, some homes were full of laughter that made the rooms feel warm. Some were silent, broken only by the buzz of phone notifications. Some held anger, sadness, and words that were never spoken. In a city of millions, every small light carried its own story.

Tonight, we step into one such home inside an old, tall building. Here begins the story of a boy who is about to learn a hard but important truth about life.

The apartment was dark. In the bedroom, two adults slept peacefully. But from the hall came a soft, shaky sound… someone was crying.

There, in front of a wooden pooja stand filled with nearly twenty Hindu god photos, sat a young teenager, Markandeya. His shoulders shook as he tried to cry without making a noise. Tears stained his cheeks, falling onto the cold floor unnoticed by anyone but himself.

His eyes, burned with a mix of pain and rage. He looked up at the smiling faces of the gods and whispered through clenched teeth: "Are you really gods… or just photos? My parents trust you. I trusted you. Yet look at us."

His voice cracked. "We are drowning in debt. My mother prayed every day that no moneylender would humiliate us at our doorstep. But today… for just two thousand rupees… she was insulted, right in front of our home. She bowed her head like a criminal. All the neighbours watched. And you… you all just looked on from those photos, with that same smile."

He wiped his tears roughly, anger rising again. "We are good people. We don’t cheat. We don’t hurt anyone. So why do we suffer while the cunning ones roam free with full pockets? They donate lakhs to temples, and you bless them. We put ten rupees, and you ignore us."

He laughed bitterly under his breath. "It’s clear. The atheists were right. You’re just… stone, just human imagination." With that final, painful accusation, Markandeya stood up.

His legs felt weak and his chest felt heavy. He walked back to his small mattress, knowing that nothing would change by morning. No answers would come. No miracle would happen. All he wished for was some sleep, or a quiet escape from the world.

The next morning, around 7 a.m., the alarm woke Markandeyan. He stretched, touched his chest, and whispered, “I’m still alive, I guess.” He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, put on his spectacles, and then got out of bed.

That’s when he noticed someone sitting on a chair, smiling at him. The man had dark skin and wore a grey shirt with simple jeans. “Did you sleep well?” the man asked. Markandeyan blinked. “Who… are you?”

The man grinned. “Hi Markandeyan, forgot to introduce myself. I’m Eeswaran. And I am God. Don’t ask which god, that’s private. Yesterday you said I was a stone, so I came to see you in person.” Markandeyan stared at him like a stunned slug. “So… you’re a god?” Eeswaran nodded.

“Great joke,” Markandeyan said, shaking his head. “Now tell me, who are you really?" Eeswaran didn’t answer. He just smiled, wide and calm, as if he already knew everything. Markandeyan frowned. “I guess you’re not going to say anything.” He sighed and left the room, heading to the kitchen.

His mother was busy at the stove. “Mom, who was in my room?” he asked. She looked up, puzzled. “Who is in your room?” “The guy in the grey shirt!” he insisted. “What are you talking about?” she said.

“I’m not making this up! Come, check my room,” Markandeyan urged. Putting her work aside, his mother followed him. When they entered the room, Markandeyan saw Eeswaran still seated on the chair. His mother looked around, confused. “Who… is here? There’s no one in your room.”

Markandeya’s breath caught. He looked from his mother… back to the smiling Eeswaran. His skin prickled with a sudden coldness because Eeswaran hadn’t disappeared. Only his mother couldn’t see him.

Fear and confusion crawled up his spine like cold fingers. His mouth went dry. His mom frowned. “Mark, what happened to you?” Markandeya swallowed hard. He realized instantly that this was something he had to deal with alone. No one else would understand… because no one else could see.

With hesitation, he forced a shaky smile. “Nothing, Mom… just a dream, I think.” She sighed. “That’s why I keep telling you. Don’t stay up until midnight watching movies. Now focus on studying.” Shaking her head, she returned to the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

The moment she left, Markandeya’s eyes darted back to Eeswaran still seated, still smiling, his presence filling the room like an invisible weight. Markandeya stepped inside, a storm of anger, fear, and complete bewilderment swirling inside him. His chest tightened. His stomach twisted painfully. His legs trembled. He felt like he couldn’t breathe properly.

“I’m hallucinating,” he whispered in panic. He wiped his spectacles. “It’s just my imagination. I just… I just need to wash my face.” Eeswaran chuckled softly. “Why are you thinking like that, Markandeya? Even if you wash your face or splash water on your head, you will still see me.”

Markandeya stopped. His heartbeat hammered. “Are you… really god?” he asked, voice trembling. Eeswaran shrugged gently. “If you believe, then I am. If you don’t… then I’m not.” Markandeya glared. “Don’t play with words. Just answer properly.”

Eeswaran smiled wider. “I already told you who I am. You’re the one refusing to accept it.” Markandeya clenched his fists. “Then show me proof, something undeniable. Something only a god can do.” Eeswaran leaned forward slightly. “You tell me what you want. What will convince you?”

Markandeya thought hard. It had to be something difficult, something impossible. Something no human or magician could replicate. His mind raced. Finally, he got it. He pointed at Eeswaran and said firmly, “You have to show me three things. If you’re truly god, these will be simple for you.” 

He raised his fingers one by one. “Number one: Move the chair you’re sitting on towards me… without touching the floor. Number two: Make it rain outside. It’s December, rain doesn’t just fall now. And number three…” Markandeya pointed at the unlit diya near the pooja stand. “Light that diya, without using anything.”

He folded his arms, trying to look confident though his heart thudded violently inside him. Eeswaran’s smile didn’t fade. If anything… it grew more amused.

He stood up slowly and stretched his arms, as though warming himself after a long sleep. Then he raised his fist to his chest. Markandeya watched every movement, barely blinking. Their eyes locked.

Eeswaran lifted a finger from his closed fist, “One.” Without a sound, without effort, the chair slid across the floor and stopped right in front of Markandeya. Markandeya’s eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat. He looked back at Eeswaran.

Eeswaran raised another finger, “Two.” Suddenly, a deep rumble of thunder echoed from outside. The sound alone sent a shiver through Markandeya’s entire body. He rushed to the window. Rain had begun to fall, heavy drops striking the ground as if the sky itself had cracked open.

“This can’t be happening…” he whispered. From the kitchen, his mother’s voice called out, “Mark is it raining?” He swallowed hard, “Yes Mom.” She sounded surprised, “Strange weather these days. Close the windows.” “Yes, Mom,” he replied mechanically, sliding the window shut.

His mind spun violently as he walked back toward the room. This wasn’t imagination. This wasn’t hallucination. If it were, his mother wouldn’t have noticed the rain. Every step felt unreal.

When he entered the room, Eeswaran was still there standing calmly, two fingers raised, smiling like someone who already knew the outcome.

Then he lifted a third finger, “And three.” The diya on the pooja table lit itself instantly. A steady flame rose, glowing softly, untouched by matchstick or hand. Markandeya’s legs gave way.

He brought his hands together in prayer, bowed deeply, and his voice broke. “It was my mistake to doubt you,” he said, tears filling his eyes. “I was foolish… a complete fool. Please forgive me, my Lord.” Eeswaran looked at him, not with pride, not with anger but with quiet understanding.

Eeswaran gently lifted Markandeya up and said, “Enough of this formality. Now you believe I am God, right?” Markandeya nodded slowly. They sat on the bed inside the bedroom. The rain tapped softly against the windows, and the diya’s flame flickered between them.

With a mix of excitement and disbelief, Markandeya said, “It feels unreal… and blissful. A god came to see me.” Eeswaran smiled. “Life is unpredictable, Mark. People experience things that feel like miracles, only because they happen at the right moment in their lives.”

Markandeya hesitated, then asked, “Did you really come because I called you? Just because I said you were stone?” Eeswaran nodded. “After years of prayer and belief… you suddenly called me stone.” Markandeya’s eyes tightened. “Then what did you expect?” he said sharply.

Markandeyan’s eyes narrowed. “Then what did you expect?” he asked sharply. “My mother was insulted in public for just two thousand rupees, even though my father works hard to pay off our debts, coming home late every day. Any child would curse God at that moment, no matter how strong their faith is.” Eeswaran nodded slowly, “Valid point.”

Markandeya paused, then asked softly, “Also… can our words be heard outside this room?” “No,” Eeswaran replied. Something shifted inside Markandeya. For the first time, he felt free.

He raised his voice, the pain he had buried finally pouring out, “You can see everything. It’s your job to protect us, to guide us. You have the power to give anything to anyone with a single thought. Then why were you silent when my mother was humiliated?”

Eeswaran didn’t flinch. He smiled gently, “It was for a reason,” he said. “When people face injustice, when they feel pain, only then does change begin. Only then do they question, think, and act. That is how people learn to distinguish good from bad, and how they find the courage to fight injustice.”

He looked directly into Markandeyan’s eyes. Eeswaran said, “In your case, that moneylender’s act planted anger not just against him, but against the world… even against me. One day, that moment will come back to your mind. And when it does, you will act differently. You will choose the right path.”

The thunder outside softened. Eeswaran continued, “Goodness doesn’t grow in comfort alone, Mark. It grows when pain forces the heart to wake up.” Markandeya sat silently, absorbing every word. For the first time, his anger felt… guided.

Markandeya sat in silence. Every word Eeswaran spoke echoed inside him, colliding with his emotions again and again.

After a long pause, he finally said, “I think I understand what you’re saying… but I still can’t connect the logic completely.” Eeswaran smiled patiently. “That’s natural.” 

He continued, “Markandeya, your mother and father cleared the debt last night. The problem you’re worried about that part is already resolved.” Markandeya looked up, surprised. “But the insult you spoke about,” Eeswaran said calmly, “that moment will live differently in different minds. The people who witnessed it may remember it for a while… or they may forget it with time.”

He leaned slightly forward. “If one day you secure a high-paying job, or achieve something that makes people proud, the same incident will be retold as a story of struggle before success. Yesterday’s humiliation will be rewritten as today’s motivation.”

Markandeya listened carefully. “As for the moneylender,” Eeswaran added, “his punishment will come in its own way. Life balances itself. It always does.” Then his tone softened, "But the most important part is you. How you carry this incident. Whether you let it poison you… or sharpen you.”

He smiled knowingly. “I can see it’s still bouncing inside your head. Don’t worry, you don’t need to understand everything right now.” Eeswaran looked around the room, as calm as the diya’s flame. “I’ll be here with you the whole day. Ask whatever you want. Every doubt, every question,” he said.

For the first time since the previous night, Markandeya felt something unfamiliar rise inside him. Not anger. Not fear, clarity, slowly beginning to form.

Markandeya sighed. “Okay… fine.” Eeswaran raised an eyebrow. “Fine, but you have exams to prepare for, don’t you?” Markandeya’s eyes widened instantly. He glanced at the clock and clutched his head. “Oh shit! I completely forgot! My exam is at 11:30!”

Eeswaran nodded calmly. “Yes. I heard that too. Now go and study.” Markandeya blinked once, twice, thrice. A mischievous idea crept into his mind. He looked at Eeswaran cautiously. “God… can you do a small help for me?”

Eeswaran crossed his arms. “What is it?” Markandeya hesitated, and then spoke quickly, "I have so many questions to ask you… and this is one of the toughest papers. So maybe you can grant me a wish? Like, I’ll just skim through the reference materials and remember every answer without forgetting anything.”

Eeswaran stared at him for a moment, and then said seriously, “I have a better idea. Instead of you going to the exam… I’ll go and write the paper.” Markandeya’s face lit up. “That also works.”

Eeswaran raised his hand not to slap, but enough to scare him, “You idiot.” He pointed at the clock. “It’s only 7:33. You have time till 10:30. That’s three solid hours.” Markandeya opened his mouth, “But...” “Enough,” Eeswaran interrupted, “Go and study.”

He turned toward the door. “I have some work to do. I’ll come back later.” Markandeya asked hurriedly, “When will you come?” Eeswaran smiled faintly. “I’ll come… when the time is right.”

He walked out of the room and vanished. Markandeya rushed outside, heart pounding, scanning the hall, the doorway, even the building staircase. Nothing, Eeswaran was gone. A strange emptiness settled inside him, but it didn’t last long. Reality returned.

He went back into his room, sat at his table, opened his books, and started studying. No shortcuts, no miracles, just honesty, focus and effort. 

Around 10:30, Markandeya stepped out of the house wearing a white shirt with black stripes. The moment he stepped outside, he saw Eeswaran standing there casually, as if he had been waiting all along. Markandeya jumped, “Can’t you at least warn me before appearing? You scared me!”

Eeswaran laughed softly, “Silently surprising people is my style.” Markandeya shook his head, “Whatever. I’m going to college now.” “I’ll come with you,” Eeswaran said. Markandeya looked at him carefully, “Really?” “Yes,” Eeswaran replied. “We can discuss the questions running in your mind along the way.” “Okay,” Markandeya agreed.

As they walked out of the building, Markandeya finally asked the question that had been sitting heavy in his heart, “First question, did you really create caste, religion, language, and nationality?”Eeswaran answered without hesitation, “No. You humans created all of it.” Markandeya looked surprised.

“Many people in the past came with ideas to reform society,” Eeswaran continued. “They thought deeply, lived honestly, and tried to show a better way of life. Over time, people argued about whether they were gods, messiahs, or enlightened humans. In doing so, they missed the truth they were teaching.”

He paused briefly, “With years, their biographies were rewritten by followers and by those who wanted power. Their thoughts were adapted, twisted, and organized. That organization is what you now call religion. Tomorrow, many more religions can be born the same way.”

They walked in silence for a moment. “Caste,” Eeswaran said, “is specific to places like India, Nepal, Butan, Pakistan, etc. Elsewhere, the same idea exists as class. Caste borrows authority from religion; class borrows it from social rules. But both serve the same purpose to pass jobs, power, and respect from parents to children.”

Markandeyan listened closely. “Kings created caste and class systems to retain their power over society.” Eeswaran continued, “Class systems were easier to break, but caste became rigid because millions followed it blindly, by incorporating our names into that propaganda.” “And nationality?” Markandeyan asked.

“Yesterday’s kingdoms are today’s nations,” Eeswaran replied. “Royal pride transformed into nationalism. Language? That’s just a tool for communication. People created it, migrated, mixed, modified it and new languages were born.” He smiled faintly.

“In the end, none of this matters. After death, king or beggar is returned to the same elements of the world.” Markandeya exhaled slowly. “That was… a lot to take in. I never thought about it that way.” 

Eeswaran chuckled, “If humans try hard enough, they can understand all of this themselves. I just shortened the explanation for you.” Markandeya nodded, “I agree.” Eeswaran looked at him, “Go on. What’s your next question?”

Markandeya walked a few steps in silence. Then he stopped. His voice rose firm, trembling with bottled anger, “Why don’t you stop the cruelty in this world? Wars, hunger, diseases, poverty, corruption, injustice, greed, lust… the list never ends. How much should we suffer? Why should good people suffer because of someone else’s actions?”

Eeswaran looked at him calmly, “First breathe. I’m not going anywhere.” Markandeya steadied himself. “Sorry. But if I ask this without anger… it won’t be honest.” Eeswaran nodded, “I know. And honestly, I feel that anger too, more than you.”

Markandeya looked surprised. “But there is something I must protect.” Eeswaran continued, “Something that keeps this world alive.” Markandeya raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Free will," Eeswaran said, walking beside him slowly, “From a small animal hunting when it’s hungry, to your ability to feel empathy, anger and love. Everything exists because of free will. 

“Without free will,” he said, “you would all be emotionless. No love, mo compassion and no thought. The suffering you mentioned happens when people choose wrong. But for every bad choice, there are people who can oppose it, who can stand for justice.” He paused, “But many remain silent. Or their actions are crushed by those who support evil.”

Markandeya listened, conflicted. “When wars are started by a few,” Eeswaran continued, “why don’t the rest step back and refuse? That choice also lies in free will. Every living being must decide. And every decision affects someone else. That’s how the world works, whether the choice is good or bad.”

Markandeya scoffed bitterly. “So just for two words, free will. You let the world burn? Even when it hurts you to watch it?” “Yes,” Eeswaran said softly. Frustration flashed across Markandeya’s face, “You’re God. The world is heading toward disaster. Just stop it.”

Eeswaran smiled gently, “If free will is removed, every living being becomes a robot, acting on commands and not emotions.” He looked straight into Markandeya’s eyes, “Tell me would you want someone standing behind you every moment, deciding how you must live your life?”

Markandeya’s anger slowly dissolved into thought, “No… but still…” Eeswaran placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know. It’s not easy.” He added quietly, “This struggle… this confusion… this choice between good and bad. That is life.”

Markandeya nodded slowly. For the first time, he didn’t feel defeated. He felt responsible. Markandeya walked quietly for a few steps, then asked, “If free will is so important, then what about fate? People say everything is fate, that soul mates are destined. What about that?”

Eeswaran said, “Do you think we write all your fate? If fate were fixed and your actions predetermined by us, then why would heaven and hell even exist? Every living being’s fate is a set of probabilities. It depends on your decisions, the decisions of others, the environment you live in, and the tunnel of time. Nothing is fixed, your actions can change the outcome. That’s why people with strong will and determination succeed in what they work for.”

Markandeyan’s face filled with shock, “So, when people say someone is born for you… that’s fake?” Eeswaran said, “Partially. You will meet many people in your life, fall for some, and perhaps marry. But the concept of a single, predestined soul mate is totally false. If it were true, people wouldn’t die on their hands of their loved ones.”

Markandeyan’s eyes widened, “My God…” Eeswaran said calmly, “Yes, it’s me.” Markandeyan sighed. “I’m not calling you… I just… I can’t believe it. My life is in my hands?” Eeswaran nodded.

Markandeyan shook his head, a mix of shock and relief on his face, “This is making my head spin… but I’m happy astrology is fake!”Eeswaran chuckled, “Well, most of you don’t understand astrology and misinterpret it. Just like you misinterpret the stories of gods, people say marriage gets delayed because of Mangal Dosha. But what connection does a faraway planet have with a human life? It’s absurd!”

Eeswaran laughed and added, “Yes, I felt the same. But it raises a question: if soulmates aren’t real, what is love? People can cheat in relationships, does that make love meaningless?”

Eeswaran said, “No. Love is built on truth, loyalty, trust, care, and gratitude and honesty and commitment are essential in every relationship. The love you feel for your parents, siblings, relatives, friends, or even your beliefs may be steadier and less fragile than romantic love, but it still depends on honesty and commitment to thrive. Romantic love adds another layer; it requires deeper emotional transparency and faithfulness. If cheating or betrayal happens, can you truly call it love? You are free and responsible for your choices, so the decisions you make matter deeply.”

Markandeyan nodded, absorbing it. Eeswaran continued, “Do you want to ask questions after your exam, or continue the question-and-answer session now?”

They were still halfway to college. Markandeyan could have decided to end the Q&A session and focus on exams. But his curiosity pushed him forward, “No, I want to continue this,” he said. Eeswaran raised an eyebrow. “You have exams. You could have asked later.”

Markandeyan, brimming with overconfidence, replied, “I’ll manage. At college, I can revise one more time. Don’t worry.” Eeswaran gave him a long look and said, “Okay, fine. It’s your choice.”

“My next question may sound silly, but I need to ask,” Markandeyan said. “Is eating non-vegetarian food like chicken, mutton, or fish acceptable? Many people say eating animals is a sin because they have life.” Eeswaran laughed. “If it were a sin, then you shouldn’t eat anything in this world.”

“Why?” Markandeyan asked. "Because every living being fills its stomach by consuming other living beings,” Eeswaran explained. “Those who claim vegetarian food is pure still eat plants and unknowingly consume microorganisms. Both sides consume living organisms. So what is the real difference? Eating for survival is natural; only eating for pleasure is judged.”

Markandeyan frowned, “Then what about rituals? During festivals, families are expected to follow a vegetarian diet. Every religion seems to have such periods. And why do some religions oppose eating beef or pork?”

Eeswaran nodded. “Rituals and festivals are meant to honour nature, the divine, and ourselves. During such times, a person is expected to practice discipline of the body as well as the mind. For many people, non-vegetarian food is more of a treat than a necessity, while vegetarian food is lighter and simpler. Naturally, lighter food helps the mind settle.

“But if someone eats vegetarian food while continuing to harbour negative thoughts, what has really changed? It’s not the food that matters; it’s the discipline. Some gods value discipline in their devotees more than offerings.

“And as I already told you, religion itself is man-made. Restrictions on food are largely shaped by history and regional culture. In India, for example, beef is opposed. Historically, India was an agricultural society. Cows and bulls were essential for farming, even kings depended on agriculture. Over time, people came to see cattle as part of the family. Gradually, this cultural respect merged with religion, and eating beef was discouraged.

“Similarly, in Arab regions, pork consumption was limited due to the hot climate and the higher risk of disease. Islam later formalized this practice. What we often call religious rules are, in many cases, practical choices shaped by environment and history.”

 “Oh my,” Markandeyan said, astonished. “I didn’t think there were so many layers around us.” Eeswaran smiled. “And we’ve only just begun. So, what’s your next question?” “Are people born on this Earth given equal opportunities and equal lives?” Markandeyan asked.

Eeswaran sighed. “No. Some are born on plateaus, some in deserts, some in snowy regions, and others on plains. Each land offers different terrain, different lifestyles, and different opportunities. Some are born into ultra-rich families, some into poverty, and some somewhere in between. Even human bodies are different some are born healthy, some with extra limbs, some with missing limbs, some with unique brain conditions, and some with rare diseases. How can you say all lives are equal? So no there is no equality in that sense.”

Markandeyan stopped walking and gave him a skeptical look, “Seriously? This is your answer?” Eeswaran stopped and replied calmly, “Then what were you expecting, a lie? That everyone is born equal and given equal opportunities? Our role is to give life to a body, not to design the body or dictate its life path. Many of the things you mentioned are beyond human control. If you compare animal life, it is even more unequal. For this inequality, you can blame me.”

“Then why such inequality?” Markandeyan asked, “You could give everyone equal things.” Eeswaran said, “There are more opportunities in plains, plateaus, and hilly regions than in deserts or snowy areas. So should children never be born in deserts or snow-covered lands? Would that be fair?” Markandeyan was struck by the question. He hesitated, “No…”

“Exactly,” Eeswaran said, “There’s no rule that people must be born in perfect bodies or perfect places. Genetics, chance, and even a parent’s life shape all of this. Life itself is equal but struggles and opportunities are not. That difference does not justify cruelty or hierarchy. When humans deny dignity using it, that injustice is theirs, not mine. Markandeya frowned, “You’re seriously talking science now.”

Eeswaran smiled. “When something isn’t understood, you call it magic. When it is understood, you call it science.” Markandeyan paused, and then asked, “Okay… then what about same-sex relationships? It’s weird and against nature. You still allow it because of free will?”

Eeswaran laughed, “Haha, do you think you know more about nature than I do?” “What?” Markandeyan said. “Your favorite animal is the lion, right?” Eeswaran asked. Markandeyan nodded. “I don’t know why humans admire wild animals so much,” Eeswaran continued, “but here’s a fact lions engage in same-sex behavior.”

Markandeyan blinked, “Really?” "Yes,” Eeswaran said, “And not just lions; chimpanzees, elephants, bison, and many others. Even clownfish, frogs, and butterflies change their gender. So tell me, who decides what is natural and what is unnatural?”

Markandeyan stood there, stunned. After a moment, he exhaled. “Okay… fine. I’ll continue with my next question.”

Eeswaran nodded. Markandeya said, “I have many questions, so let’s go quickly.” Eeswaran smiled, “Sure.”

Markandeya asked, “You said we’ve misinterpreted many god stories and other things. Can you give me one example?”

Eeswaran replied, “One of the clearest examples is the god of wealth. People think the god of wealth gives money and gold, and they do rituals using that same money and gold.” Markandeya nodded, “Yes, that’s true.”

Eeswaran continued, “For humans, wealth usually means assets. But real wealth is time and opportunity. When both align in someone’s life and are used well, success follows naturally.”

Markandeya asked, “So, do you care about the money and gold people put in donation boxes?” Eeswaran chuckled, “No. Where would I use it? Do I have a bank? Gold is my creation, why should I need them? Most of it is taken by worship place authorities and used for both useful and sometimes unethical reasons.”

Markandeya frowned, “What about atheists? Do you care about them?” Eeswaran smiled, “I care about them the same as my believers. They are also part of the world, and they also need guidance.”

Eeswaran said calmly, “There are no truly good people in this world. Except babies and toddlers, they are innocent. Everyone else is gray, they all make mistakes, judged differently depending on perspective. Clever planning and ruthless actions often get rewards. You say you are a good person, but even you watch pirated movies and pornography.”

Markandeya frowned, “Huh, I can understand pirated movies since it causes a loss to someone. But how is watching porn so bad?” Eeswaran replied, “People turn to it purely for satisfaction, to enjoy naked bodies and sex. It gives nothing beyond that moment: no understanding, no growth, no responsibility, only consumption. When something exists only to be used and discarded like that, doesn’t it belong in the gray area too?”

Markandeya paused, thinking, “So, what should humans do in life according to you?” Eeswaran said simply, “Spread love, speak good, help others and share with those who have less. That’s the essence of life.”

Markandeyan asked, “What are the things we should avoid in life?” Eeswaran replied, “The hunger to have everything, the feeling that you are superior to others, and uncontrolled desires.” Markandeyan nodded, “Okay… how do we avoid this?”

Eeswaran said gently, “Be grateful for what you have. In this world, there will always be something greater than something else. You are neither above anyone nor below anyone. We are all part of this Earth, and nothing will truly satisfy you until your heart is content.”

Markandeyan and Eeswaran were only about 100 meters from college when suddenly a hand reached from behind and touched Markandeyan. He jumped in fright and turned around. It was his friend Samuel. “Mark! Did you study well?” he asked.

Markandeyan scowled, “Why are you trying to scare me? I just managed to study somehow.” Samuel grinned, “You always say that, and then somehow manage to get high marks in the exam.” Markandeyan laughed. “What about you?”

Samuel shrugged, “You know me study only a day before, focus on important topics, and practice the professor’s questions.” Markandeyan shook his head, “You never change.” Then Samuel’s eyes landed on Eeswaran. Curiously, he asked, “Hey… who’s this new guy?”

Markandeyan began, “He is…” But he stopped mid-sentence. He glanced at Eeswaran, then back at Samuel. His mind raced, replaying the morning. How his mother hadn’t been able to see Eeswaran because he was a god. But how could Samuel see him? Hesitantly, he asked, “Wait… can you… see him?”

Sam said, “Yes, why not?” Markandeyan looked at Eeswaran. Eeswaran smiled, “What are you looking at, Mark? Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”

Markandeyan’s faith in Eeswaran had been hanging by a thread that morning, but now, knowing Samuel could see him too, it tightened like a metal chain. Eeswaran was real, and everything he had said about the world was true.

Before Markandeyan could speak, he stepped forward, “He’s not going to say anything for ages, I guess. I’ll introduce myself, Eeswaran.” Eeswaran held out his hand. Samuel shook it, “I’m Samuel, his college friend.” Eeswaran smiled warmly, “I’m his childhood friend.”

Samuel chuckled, “Alright, bro. I have to go revise some important topics. Mark, I’ll be at the staircase. Come there when you can.” Markandeyan nodded as Samuel left. Once they were alone, Markandeyan turned to Eeswaran. “Now you fully believe me, I guess?” Eeswaran said gently.

“Sorry,” Markandeyan admitted. “This morning you didn’t show up to Mom, so I thought only I could see you.” Eeswaran nodded, “There were reasons I didn’t appear before. I reveal myself only when necessary; otherwise, people would think you’ve lost your mind if they saw you speaking to thin air.”

Markandeyan nodded, understanding. They continued walking to college in silence. As they reached the gate, Eeswaran said, “All the best for your exam. I’ll be waiting outside when you’re done.”

Markandeyan started toward the gate, but a sudden pang of fear struck him. He spun around and hurried back to Eeswaran, “God… please! I forgot everything I studied for the exam. Kindly help me!”

Eeswaran asked gently, “Why are you so frightened now?” Markandeyan replied, “My mind is filled with all the answers you gave me. I should have taken your advice.” Eeswaran said, “I told you. Now you must face the consequences.”

Markandeyan clasped his hands in pleading, “I’m begging you, please help me.” Eeswaran calmly responded, “Markandeyan, listen the preparation is done, you already know the answers. It’s only your imagination that makes you think you’ve forgotten them.”

Markandeyan said desperately, “Please, God, I’m only asking for a little help. I promise I won’t ask for anything else.” Eeswaran smiled softly, “Mark, your friend Samuel is entering the exam without fear, even though he studied less than you. Yet you’re more afraid than him. It’s just the imagination of fear, overcome it, and see what you already have.”

Markandeyan tried to argue, “But…” Eeswaran interrupted, “Just go and write the exam. You still have time to revise once. Don’t waste it.”

Realizing it was pointless to argue, Markandeyan gave Eeswaran a look and entered the college. He felt frustrated that even though Eeswaran was a god, he didn’t intervene. But he understood that worrying about what might happen was a waste of time.

With only fifteen minutes left, he found a quiet corner in the college corridors and began revising each chapter. Eeswaran’s words floated through his mind, making concentration difficult, but he focused his full energy on studying. Somehow, he managed to complete his revision just in time.

He then entered the exam hall with a mix of courage and lingering worry. He sat down as the staff distributed the question papers, and the exam began.

As Markandeyan went through the questions, he realized the paper was easy. Most questions were from previous years, slightly jumbled, with just one or two new ones added here and there. The worry on his face vanished. He understood that all his fear had been his imagination. Without wasting a second, he began writing confidently.

The exam was scheduled for two and a half hours, but Markandeyan finished in just one hour and fifty minutes. He submitted his paper and left the hall. As he walked out, his heart raced not from fear, but from the embarrassment of the words he had spoken to Eeswaran. Yet, deep down, he knew he was in the presence of a god. He stepped outside with a sense of hope.

Near the college gate, Eeswaran was waiting. Markandeyan took a deep breath and approached him, standing silently by his side. Eeswaran smiled, remaining quiet. For a moment, a peaceful silence stretched between them, and Markandeyan couldn’t help but smile like an innocent child.

Finally, Eeswaran spoke, “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” As they walked, Markandeyan said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken like that.” Eeswaran’s smile remained gentle, “It’s fine, it’s all part of human nature,” he said. Markandeyan hesitated, and then asked, “Did you know the paper would be easy? That’s why you didn’t help me, right?”

Eeswaran shook his head slightly, still smiling, “Even if the paper were hard, you would have solved it. But if I told you it would be easy, you might have surrendered yourself to carelessness. By facing it as it came, even with fear, the result was still in your hands.”

Markandeyan nodded, and then asked, “What are the special gifts we have in life?” Eeswaran replied, “There are many. The love and care you show others, your connection with nature, nature things, the intelligence you possess and…. the list goes on.”

Markandeyan hesitated, then asked softly, “I’ve seen death... some cruel, some painful, some peaceful. Some die young, some live long, and some die before even experiencing life. Why such differences? What is free will role here?”

Eeswaran said calmly, “Death is a constant part of every living being born on Earth. If death were equal and predictable, you would find patterns and live according to them, not freely. Mystery preserves free will. Because death is uncertain, people learn to value life, to live fully, even though it brings pain to those left behind. That pain, too, is part of nature.”

Markandeyan asked, “Is this your true form?” Eeswaran smiled. “No. I am formless. I take a human form so you can understand me.”

Markandeyan then said, “So far, I’ve learned that humans are responsible for almost everything, from beginning to end and that you don’t interfere much in daily life. Then what role do you have?”

Eeswaran replied, “We do have a role, but it cannot always be explained. There are things beyond this world that must be maintained. Sometimes we intervene when the time is right. In that way, we are also part of your journey.”

Markandeyan nodded, “Okay, I won’t go deeper, it’s your domain. But one last thing: how can we reach you? You came because you wished to see me. What if we want to see you? Is there any ritual?”

Eeswaran laughed gently, “Do you think we are impressed by rituals? Be open-minded. Let go of ego. Do well to others, even when it hurts you. As you grow through these, you will find us. You’ll feel connected. That is the simplest way.”

Markandeyan asked in shock, “That’s it? Nothing else is needed?” Eeswaran smiled gently, “Yes, of course. What did you expect? A hundred years of deep meditation or some grand ritual?”

Markandeyan thought for a moment, “So… this is why most people become saints, I guess.” Eeswaran shrugged lightly, “It’s up to each person. They choose their own path, or they follow religious rules.”

As their conversation continued, they reached a crossroad. Suddenly, a screech of tires pierced the air. Markandeyan’s eyes widened as a vehicle came hurtling down the alley, striking a man in his thirties. The man lay on the road, blood pouring from his body, caught between life and death, while a crowd gathered around.

Markandeyan’s heart froze. He turned toward Eeswaran, “God… what kind of idiot drives like that?” But Eeswaran was gone. Panic surged through him, “God! Where are you? He’s dying!” Markandeyan shouted, his voice trembling, but there was no answer.

He pushed through the crowd, adrenaline overtaking fear, “Don’t worry! You’ll be okay! Just hold on!” he yelled at the injured man. Then turned to the bystanders, “Call an ambulance! Or rush him to the nearest hospital!”

One man from the crowd muttered, “We’ve already called… help is on the way. Markandeyan shook his head. “It will be too late. Help me! We have to move him now.”

Markandeyan grabbed the man’s arms while two others lifted his legs. Two more dashed to flag down a nearby taxi. As they carried him, Markandeyan whispered, almost praying, “Please, God… where are you? I need your help. Don’t hide now…” 

But Eeswaran was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the man went completely limp in his arms, unconscious. Markandeyan’s voice broke as he shouted, “Nooo…!”

Later, around 3 p.m., Markandeyan was returning home. His white shirt with black strips was stained with blood, his head hung low, and his eyes reflected nothing but regret. As he entered the alleyway leading to his home, he saw Eeswaran standing at the exit. Anger flared in Markandeyan’s eyes.

Eeswaran simply stood there, smiling. Without a word, he began walking away. Fuelled by frustration, Markandeyan immediately started chasing him. Eeswaran was heading toward the same building where Markandeyan lived, moving with a calm, unhurried pace but somehow, Markandeyan managed to close the distance.

Eeswaran entered the building premises, and Markandeyan followed. From the staircase, he saw Eeswaran already on the 6th floor, making his way to the terrace. Eeswaran looked down at him with that same serene smile.

Rage surged through Markandeyan. He raced up the stairs, each floor sapping his strength, but he refused to stop. Finally, he burst onto the terrace. Eeswaran stood at the edge of the rooftop, gazing down at the city below. Markandeyan took a deep breath and adjusted his spectacles to steady himself, then shouted, “Why did you leave that place?”

Eeswaran remained silent. Markandeyan shouted again, his voice breaking, “A man was dying! I was calling you! Where did you go?” Eeswaran slowly turned around. “If I had stayed,” he said calmly, “you wouldn’t have helped him.”

Markandeyan clenched his fists, “He was dying. A car hit him, blood everywhere. You could have saved him instantly.” Eeswaran replied calmly, “And if I had, you would have only watched. Now, he’s alive because of you. The driver will still be arrested tomorrow. Everything has unfolded as it should.”

Markandeyan snapped, “Don’t twist your words. From morning till now, you’ve been giving me lectures with that same smile. And when I needed you the most, you disappeared.” “I disappeared,” Eeswaran said softly, “when you were ready.” Markandeyan scoffed bitterly. “So this was a test, right? To see whether I’d save a life or not? How cruel can you be?”

His voice trembled as he continued, “Do you know what I felt? My hands were shaking. Blood was all over my shirt. Every second I feared he would die. Outside the operation theatre, my feet wouldn’t stop tapping from anxiety until the doctor said he was fine. Only then did I breathe.”

He looked straight at Eeswaran. “I was right you enjoyed watching us suffer.” Eeswaran shook his head. “From the beginning, I told you. I do not interfere in your lives. Do well. Be good. Your actions create change. After saying all that, did you really think I would take your place?”

Markandeyan fell silent. Eeswaran continued, his voice steady, “The world doesn’t move forward because God acts or doesn’t act. It moves forward only when humans choose to act.”

Eeswaran continued, “My role is not to interfere in your daily lives. I have my own work. But that doesn’t mean I never step in. I come when it’s necessary to stabilize things temporarily. Then, the world remains yours.”

Markandeyan pleaded, “Don’t you understand? You’ve seen this world countless times. Every mistake we make every failure. It leads to suffering. Isn’t that your responsibility?”

Eeswaran said calmly, “Markandeyan, I am merely the gatekeeper of this world. I safeguard the cycle of birth and death, not control how people live. You fear that evil will rise, right?” Markandeyan nodded.

Eeswaran continued, “From your point of view, it may seem like evil is everywhere, ready to crumble the world. But remember this: a single act of determination, a single unity, can break the strongest barriers. Those who gain power through wrongdoing are only mirrors. One stone of truth can shatter them. This world belongs to all creatures that live in it. It is your home. Your responsibility is to keep it safe. Do what is necessary for its protection.”

Markandeyan said, “I think I’m beginning to understand… but honestly, you still puzzle me completely.” Eeswaran laughed softly. “Haha, I know.” Markandeyan asked, “At least tell me… what my life’s purpose is? So I can follow it.”

Eeswaran placed his hand gently on Markandeyan’s shoulder. Warmth spread through his chest as he closed his eyes. Eeswaran said, “No one is born with a predetermined purpose. Everyone decides their own. You will find yours. But whatever path you choose, remember this: be good, do good, even when it hurts. A good heart brings a peaceful mind. I am leaving now, but I will always be near, watching over you.” As soon as he finished speaking, a spark of light appeared and Eeswaran vanished.

Markandeyan opened his eyes. Before him stretched the city of Mumbai, the same view Eeswaran had observed. Silence hung in the air, full of mystery. No one could know what path he would choose now, shaped as it would be by his actions and the wisdom Eeswaran had shared. He could go good, bad, or somewhere in between, like everyone. The lesson was clear: do good whenever you can, and spread peace wherever you go.