Vishwaroopam

He stood in awe as the Goddess stood before him. He had never seen a Goddess before. The thought had never crossed his mind. Why would he want to see a Goddess? Why would the Goddess want to see him? He didn't like the idea one bit. Goddesses popping up here and there and not doing their job. Weren't they supposed to massage their husband's feet or occasionally raise some hullaballoo or something. He had read about goddesses walking out on their husbands in fits of anger, heard of them going all crazy because the husband dared to take the head out of her son. But Goddesses popping out before guys minding their own business? Bah.. what was this world coming to?

And then she started. "Child.. I am much pleased by your *tapas*. Tell me, what is it that you need?". His mouth mouthed the words "What the.." silently. To his credit, he recovered immediately. "Hey. What the.. ". No this time he didn't say it silently. He continued, "I didn't do any tapas wapas. What the heck are you talking about, wierdo?". "Oh shut the **** up, moron", she said. "This is my usual opening line. I know you're a lazy ass. I was just sitting bored. No one does tapas anymore. You were the closest guy around while I was taking my tour. That's why I decided to appear before you and grant a wish".  "I don't want any wishes from you, you old hag", he retorted. He didn't like being called lazy, even though he knew very well he was one. Besides, Larry Wall always says laziness is a virtue all programmers should develop. Who gives a shit if he meant it in a completely different way.

He was kinda perplexed though. He asked, "Hey you're a goddess. I thought you would be a great beauty or something". "Of course I'm beautiful, moron. But only in my true form. I have to curb my true form so you don't die from the sheer power it radiates". "It can't be that powerful, can it?", he asked. "Of course it is.", she said. "Would you like to see it?", she said this in a very British accent. Damn, I love the brits. Especially the accent. Well most of the brits anyway. I hate Keira Knightley. Is Victoria Beckham a brit too? If yes, that would be another. I don't hate Tony Blair, strange as it might sound. His accent is very brit. I like that. I like Jason Statham, love Coldplay. But enough of the brits. We all know they're great, right? Except the occassional misadventurer like General Dyer or Keira Knightley.

Where were we now? Ah yes, "Would you like to see it", she said in a very English accent. Did I mention I like all the different kinds of Brit accents? English , Scot, Irish.. the different kinds of each. It's so sexy. Damn, here I go off again. Anyways, the former dialogue got our hero thinking. "If she looks so ugly now. Does she look super ugly in her true form? Or does she look super beautiful? Better than Angelina Jolie? Or worse than Keira Knightley?". ( I hate Keira Knightley's jaw the worst, by the way. Am not even going to call her actions in front of the camera "acting". Whatever it is, I hate that too. But her jaw takes the cake) "Whatever it is , I gotta see it". "Hey, Lady", he said aloud. "I want to see your true form thing". "Ok, if that's what you wish my child..". She shouted, "Ban-kai". Lo and behold. Before him stood the Goddess in her true form. He withered under the onslaught of the true form. She was chattering non - stop. "blaah blaah .. Do you know, when I was in Shimla I .. blaah blaah". It was too much bear. I dare not even imagine what it must've been like. The sheer speed. The torrent flow. It reminded him of an avalanche. He couldn't bear it any longer. He shouted, "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPP...".

And then he died. There's only so much a mortal can bear.

Moral of the story : Never let goddesses show you their true form. Or something like that.

Warning : If this post makes you puke , consider suicide or something similar.. I'm not responsible. I wash my hands off.

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