Shamasis Bhattacharya

Hello world, I am god.
On Earth, I had the dream to create life.

I am the one who painted green.
First, I wove grass — they served a purpose,
Held onto the skin of my Earth.
Then, I chiseled trees with a different purpose,
Gave them fruit, knowing that someday,
These fruits would serve some greater cause.

I honed my skills, ventured further,
Moulded animals.

Animals too had a purpose — some visible,
Others soon to be discovered.
Among them, I orchestrated earthworms — they served a purpose,
Cleansed the Earth.
Then crafted birds, again with a different purpose.
The earthworms served them as well.

Soon, I realised I could create anything,
Anything that could serve a purpose.
I knew whatever I did, would eventually be done well.
Found no joy in dreaming, painting, or weaving — my mind wandered.

That one day, I lost my purpose,
And started searching for a different purpose for myself.

Not much later, I realised
Joy was not in having the skills to create,
But in the act of creation itself,
In making a system work,
And the skills would find their way.

The result was Man.
I gave it no purpose.

I lived my dreams.
Watched Man acquire skills, live dreams,
Use the trees, the earthworms, and the birds.
Watched them grow and watched them die.
Religion, caste, race, war, violence, and murder.
Fire, elections, literature, hatred, and love.
Watched them create God.
Watched until they started searching for purpose.

I, the creator of time and history, watched history repeat.

Knowing what was to be known,
I sent them sorrow.
Ravaged the trees, shook the earth.
Plagued the food and boiled the sun.

Man created hatred,
Could not understand my purpose.
They asked how.
Could not grasp the greater goal,
Never asked why.
(“God grant we never may have need of you.” – Richard III)
They saw what they wanted to see,

Man created Satan.
That is what I became to be.