Sins reached the city of Mysuru in Karnataka state at the crack of dawn, tagging along with a friend who was driving an old, withered bike, which threatened and looked to fall apart any moment. They had borrowed the bike from a second-hand dealer, promising the man that his share in the consignment would be increased, but cleverly not specifying how much, since they had no intention of honouring their promise. After all, they were the ones taking all the risk, and they would be the ones snagging a majority share after transporting it for nearly ninety miles on a cold, damp night.
The city was literally sleeping as they sped across the vast empty roads at breakneck speed towards Chamundi Hills, a locale seven miles to the city’s eastern outskirts where their contact was waiting, having confirmed an affirmative at three past forty minutes in the morning that day. It was the first time in Sins’ life that he had received a call at that hour.
What struck him as weird was that the contact, a man, was a priest at the Chamundeshwari Temple, which sat perched atop the hilly terrain. It had been years since Sins had visited a temple, let alone such an auspicious one, which was said to house the deity that guarded the Kings of Mysuru City in the eras bygone. Sins liked the concept of creating and worshipping one’s own choice of god, chosen and based on one’s own desires and material circumstances. Sins already had a detailed description of the Goddess he would put his complete faith in, as a matter of immense personal significance to him and him only, an intensely private matter that no one had the right to question or demand. He wished this kind of thinking was more mainstream, because he believed it would create independent minded individuals who would go on to become model citizens and mould the next generation in their line of thinking.
Sins was convinced this line of thought would cure the evil that existed in the world.
Sins was also convinced that this line thought existed in his country millennia ago when people were more clear-headed and thoughtful, documenting all their thoughts in elaborate scriptures and making sense of the vast universe, guided by the light of their enlightened minds and the majesty of the skies, radiating its sheer splendour of stars, illuminating the entire horizon as far as eyes could see. Sins imagined grains and beads of intelligent thought flowing across a new spiritual dimension from the meditating slumber of deep thoughts inside the ancients, who perceived their habitat to be so wondrous and joyous that, the issue of their Creator had as much significance as the food they scourged for everyday.
After all, God was present everywhere, so said all the major religions of Humanity. The statement probably also meant that the Earth itself was God. Since no one had any real idea, nor inclination to quarrel or debate, Sins wondered whether, the concept of ‘one’s own personal god’ stemmed from the tenets of Hinduism. To his surprise it was. Very much so. Sins closed his eyes and began to imagine how his personal god was going to look like.
Imagining the colour Brown, after himself, he conjured up the image of an individual with long matted hair in dreadlocks, swinging a bass guitar by his side and smoking marijuana on his sofa, painted in colours of red and blue, swooning to the swaying music and exhorting Sins to join him in the fun.