There lie many small bodies cuddled in white covers, soulless, dead; their souls waiting to be rest in peace. Adding black scribbles on that white canvas, apparently comes a black hand joyfully lifting all the souls. The death looks in a ‘happy to go mood’ these days. Though a lot of work to do yet ‘She’ is happier of a boastful increase in her chores.
Smaller souls hanging on either side of ‘death’ also look happy. Happy at being relieved out of pain, happy at being taken away from the place of constant violence to a peaceful place, the heaven.
Enjoying the ride ‘the mortal and the immortal’ are going toward their decided destination. The ‘taker’ is thinking to hire an assistant to assist her in carrying the souls. Also, she is in need of the one to handle individual life’s account as these accounts are getting complex with increasing age of materialism on Earth. The planet being overburdened by avarice and greed is giving off more souls to death for ‘rehabilitation’.
Involved and stuck in her thoughts the ‘kind’ eyes of the ‘lifter’ falls on an infant soul that reached on Earth just a few days back. Looking at the small bundle the death was taken aback at the level of human hypocrisy, feeling bad at the fact that power and intellect being given to the heartless and emotionless bunch of people. ‘Science is indeed taking great leaps forward’, ‘the kind heart’ thought, ‘with humans turning into robots with power to do anything instantly but with a decreasing understanding of each others’.
This sudden realization made her scared. What if this ‘mechanized humanity’ revolted against her? What if they succeed in this revolt and become immortal? Such a group of humans would be a blot on her reputation. ‘I wish a decrease in the materialistic intellect of these humans’, the death thought, flying high towards the spiritual world.