“Tell me, O Rakshasa, why do you torment me so?” cried the Great Teacher of his people.
“So that I may serve My Lord,” growled the Demon King.
“The Evil One, you serve the Evil One!” wailed the Great Teacher.
The Lokas reverberated with derisive laughter.
“By tormenting Man? Surely, that is service to the Evil One,” continued the Great Teacher of the Faithful. “And truly you are the epitome of a rakshasan.”
“Scholar, mystic and philosopher you might be, among Man. But in the Realms, your wisdom is less than that of a worm.”
“Before you tear me asunder, tell me, I beseech you, so that I can understand my fate.”
“My choice was Nine Lives on earth, to be enchanting, loved and cuddled by Man.”
“And you gave up nine rounds of beauty and love in exchange to be evil? What madness is this?” lamented the Old Man.
Waves of laughter boomed.
“Beauty as you view it, is transient at worst, an illusion at best.”
“And love, surely, is not love the finest of all gifts?” cried the Old Man.
“You parrot regarding matters you not know of, Great-Tea-cher-of-Man.”
The hideous Being stomped towards the trembling Old Man.
“My love for my Lord is fathomless.”
“Can one such as you be capable of love?” The Old Man managed a feeble cackle.
“I chose One Life to be reviled by worms, so I may hasten my time on the Third and repair quickly to regain my service to Him, to find great joy at His Feet, which I shall wash with my tears of bliss, dry with my locks of hair and offer up my head to serve as footstool.”
“To serve the Evil One?”
“To serve My Lord.”
“Truly you serve all that is evil, O Rakshasa. And it is right that your deeds damn you.”
“You judge quickly, Old Man, and whereof this great love for your enemy, that you preached from the plains to the mountains, even as you fattened yourself off the labour of your brethren?”
“By my death and the deaths of millions upon millions, even if you are redeemed, what of us who perish? Are our lives not wasted?”
“Behold the leaves that flutter to the earth, Old Man. Is that a waste? Lament not now, the choice you freely made, for you are but only a tenth conscious.”
“I will give my life and even my soul freely to my God, but I made no bargain to pay your ransom,” cried the Old Man.
“Here. A Gift from your God and My Lord.”
The Demon King placed a grain of sand in the Old Man’s palm.
“And that’s how much you know and as surely as you are, less than a worm.” The Demon King stood back and declared,
“Prepare yourself, Old Man, for your God, who is My Lord, beckons me, and you.”
“Your Evil Lord can never be my One True God.”
“And yet, feeble as you are in body, mind and soul, you spake the truth. There is but only One True God.”
****** Copyright @ Eric Alagan, 2016 ******