Creative Writing

It’s The Year 3021 and I am Finally Curated

I am not alive to see it but it is fine

I died in the year 2021 and went to hell.

My job there was to fry people who were punished for their sins on earth like rapes, murders, theft, etc. They screamed their lungs out when I poured them in boiling hot oil, and that for me was quite heavenly.

It is 1st April, 3021, and I got to fry 32,180 people today.

That was a new record for me as well. I was spent from all that tossing and stirring of so many people. My head was spinning around and I needed to chill out for a while.

Chilling out in hell meant a visit to the Hell Observatory Center.

This center was inaugurated by the first Scientist to step into hell. His invention took a lot of time to complete because he was waiting for new scientists to join him.

As it seems, scientists don't die easily. They have a larger life span than average human beings. This may stem from the fact that they are away from their wives for half of their lives.

After around 2,500 years this observatory was completed and it was inaugurated on the day when earth went into complete lockdown. People celebrated the inauguration with fake cheers and gunshot sounds in the air.

Yeah, we have a sound effect artist too in here.

But the observatory is not open to everyone. It is a luxury that had to be earned. The observatory was open to only those who had done good deeds on earth. I had done many, I was told.

I had clapped, highlighted, commented, and sent private notes to writers to encourage them. What made me stand apart was that I had never argued with any of the editors.

And that had earned me this luxury. The above point should go into your personal diary.

So the observatory looked like a giant fridge door, looking celestial as it stood. I went and opened the cold door and there I could see the place I once stayed on — the Earth.

Once you open the observatory door, you have a floating interface in front of you. The one like in the ATM machines, where we several options. From these options, you can select as to what on earth you want to see. Only 3 things were allowed per person.

So I chose the following:-

Bedroom of Joaquin Phoenix,

Bank locker of Elon Musk, and

My medium account.

My first option was a waste of time. Joaquin Phoenix was playing with his pet dog at the time I looked at him. My timing had never been correct on earth, there was no chance of it happening right in hell.

My second option was the best. I had lots of fun by virtually swimming and sliding amongst the huge mountain of gold coins in Elon Musk’s bank locker. Just recollect Duck Tales, if you will.

And lastly, I got to see the notification panel on my medium account. I had1,122 unread notifications. Really? I was away from medium for 1,000 years and I get only these many notifications? Who the hell was I kidding?

My views went down from 20k to 500 in just one month of absence so this was quite good, I thought.

I felt alive again. I excitedly clicked it and it showed the below message,

‘’Congratulations your article has been curated.’’

I jumped and jumped and jumped like crazy. Getting curated after the wait of thousand years meant a lot to me. I had the same wish on my death bed and I could see it coming true after such a long wait. Who could have thought my last article, ‘’101 ways of painless death options.’’ will get me curated someday.

But in my excitement, I forgot that only ten minutes of time is allowed here and I spent way too much time in Elon Musk’s locker, damn!

In a state of panic, I pushed too many buttons all at once. As a result of a low network and my carelessness, I was redirected to the wrong page and the interface went into a frenzy. When it finally settled,

My Medium account was DELETED.

My observatory time was up and I was flung into the air and out of the center. I lay on the ground frozen, staring in the blank space above me. That day something died in me.

Something changed.

I don’t know what got into me, but I ordered the reaper to get more people for frying.

Reaper: ‘’ But ma’am, the schedule for new deaths is tomorrow and not today.’’

Me: ‘’How dare you argued with your senior. Bring them in, you filthy faceless sucker, or I'll or I am getting a dog in here. And don't you try to send me on a guilt trip. What new heaven they will show their wives in one night when they couldn’t satisfy her ever since their wedding night. I say bring those useless morons today and don’t forget to update the ‘pretimely’ death register.’’

The reaper quivered at the sight of a dog. Sweet innocent eyes staring into his faceless pit and then growling and salivating all at once, the reaper lost his cool every time.

I was in no mood to follow rules. I knew I had to divert my frustration. My Medium account got deleted.

I had to fry people.

I have to admit, the reaper did a great job that day.

He brought around 200k people all at once. I was shocked as hell.

Me: ‘’Hey, you faceless monkey, come here. And explain this number. How on earth did you manage deaths of more than 2 lakh people in one day?’’

Reaper: “Umm, nothing ma’am, it’s just that our new death scheme ‘COVID’ seems to be working really well, that’s all."

Well, at least the day’s ending was in my favor. I got to fry so many people and also release them from their sins on earth. What else could I ask for?

©Bhavna Narula, 2021. All rights reserved by the author.

You can also check out other humor pieces by me —

Thank you for reading. :)