....I returned home at midnight, sad and frustrated. I cursed that philosopher more than a hundred times before I went to bed that night. When I started this god-searching mission, my sleep had plummeted to 3-4 hours from the usual 9-12 hours. That night also, I could not sleep, but continued thinking about God. If he is not dead yet, where is he? I thought, perhaps, he was badly injured in an accident and getting treated at a hi-tech hospital somewhere on this planet. I wished he wasn’t in coma or terminally ill because of any disease. What happens if God was badly infected with HIV virus and receiving an active anti-retroviral therapy? That would be funny to see, I thought. Whatever the reason of sickness, I determined, when I go to meet God at hospital, I should not forget to carry some fruits and juice bottles for him.....
(An excerpt from my essay 'Oh My God, I'm Godless'...the essay will be published after a century:P )
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