“Don’t these people have any work to do?” he asked querulously.
“Sire,” said the Communications Angel, “If you would scroll a little further down, there are about a million pleas for water from a place called Bengaluru.”
“Do they think I am in the tanker business?” asked God, now really cross as he swatted mosquitoes buzzing him with the zealous glee of new converts. “Ask Bengaluru to look after the resources I have given it.”
“Sire, they are saying that their reservoirs are parched and Tamil Nadu is snitching water and leaving them high and dry.”
“There they go with the blame game! Did I tell them to cut down trees? Did I ask them to fill the water bodies and build malls on them?”
“They beginning to sound very desperate.”
“Story of my life,” sighed God, “First they create the problem and then they come crying to me for help!”
“Please Sire,” said the Communications Angel who had a kind heart. “You are supposed to be compassionate and forgiving.”
“Ah well,” God said, “Call an emergency meeting of the Water Works Committee.”
The Water Works Committee with its 33 1/3 per cent quota for women filed in solemnly. God was fanning himself with a file. “There seems to be some kinda problem with Bengaluru. People are going bathless these days and we did tell them that cleanliness was next to Godliness. Though the way they smell these days, I certainly do not want them anywhere next to me. But the situation is serious. We need to brainstorm.” The Water Works Committee looked through their reports and cleared their throats and came up with the usual clichés. Seed the clouds. Send them some unseasonal rain.
Maybe a tsunami or two. Maybe change some wine into water. God yawned rudely in their faces. “There is,” he stated, “not one original idea between all of you. Go away and come back with a viable solution. Meanwhile if one of you will turn on the UPS, I can take a power nap.”
Two days later they filed in. One woman who looked distinctly like a geeky software type spoke up. “Isn’t Bengaluru the place where they have the software engineers?"
“Right,” said God, “but even those darned fellows need to bathe occasionally.” “Isn't it the place where they develop all that virtual stuff that youngsters seem to prefer to reality?” persisted Geeky.
“So?” asked God, looking around to see if he could get himself a tall iced drink without having to offer one to everyone. They were still on tight budgets in Heaven even though the recession was officially over. “What does that have to do with lack of water?” Geeky sat up taller. “Since they are so good at inventing all this virtual sex, virtual farm stuff, all you have to do is send them a commandment. Go thou and create virtual water.”There was a moment of silence at the sheer brilliance of the suggestion. Then God roared his approval and the applause broke out like a thunderstorm making people look up hopefully at the sky.
It was only later, in the small watches of the night abuzz with mosquitoes, that God had his doubts. “I wonder, if a virtual bath is as effective at removing human smells as real water?”
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