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Mumbai Motley: a traveller's insight into the mercurial metro

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rubyhostingcloudlearning
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    Solomon Grundy died on a Saturday. As his soul was floating up, surrounded in ectoplasm, he was stopped by Metatron. Now as per Judaism, Metatron is the personal secretary to God: he scribes God's Will, jots down the Judgement that has been delivered upon each soul, and passes it on to the Departed. In other words, the first voice you hear after your death is that of Metatron, not God. And the first one you meet after your death is Metatron. Not God. So all the lousy-headed, flea-balled, gore-monging, ISIS-lauding, yellow-biled camel-fuckers who kill in the name of God so that they can meet Him after death, can go suck each other off on this. But I digress. At first this man was confused, not knowing what to make of this halting. It was his first experience at death so like a first-time flyer, he stared listlessly for further instructions at the resolute and yet, gentle face of Metatron, who took out his scribe-board and started reading out the Judgement. It read: "You have been stout of health, and strong of character till your demise. You had lived your days by The Book. Choose between both the Gates, and make your mind to pass through one of them. Your wish shall be granted." The man gave a sigh of relief. In his heart, he was surely choosing Heaven, but years of fearful preaching flamed his inquisitiveness and out of sheer curiosity, he ended up peeping through the Gates of Hell. He has expected to hear ear-splitting screams of pain and suffering, witness souls thrashing in the throes of being drowned alive in cauldrons of boiling lard, and imagined seeing tortured souls being flogged while dragging a sledge. But he was in for a huge surprise. There was a sharp contrast; neither could he hear one scream, nor one soul in torture. A purplish tinge of mellow glow had settled all over the place, with one spotlight lighting a rostrum that was surrounded by prominent lawyers, politicians, actors, advertising giants, lawmakers and other important-looking people. Everyone was dressed in shiny, colourful, satin gowns and were sipping expensive wines from ruby-lined glasses. Sensuous music was streaming from the background and gorgeous women were swaying to the tunes of it. Solomon picked up his jaw from the floor and wiped his drool. He thought- "Boy, if this is Hell, then Heaven must be some classy deal." With a happy, expectant heart, he peeped through the Gates of Heaven. There were vanilla-coloured clouds floating all around. In fact, the entire place looked like a vanilla cloud. Th

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