WHEN GOD GETS BORED

CHAPTER ZERO 

The Dream

Eyes opened into the void. The space was vast, white, and endless. The silence was suffocating, louder than any sound he had ever known.

Fulkit stood still, trying to make sense of the emptiness, but the more he thought, the more his mind went blank.

And then, a voice—a deep, calm resonance that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere—spoke:

"Aakhirkaar tum mujhse milne aa hi gaye."

Startled, he turned in every direction, but there was no one. The voice followed, calm yet challenging:

"Do you still question my existence, or will you choose to believe?"

Anger flared in him. "Whoever you are, stop hiding! Show yourself!"

As if responding to his fury, the void shattered with a deafening boom. Colors erupted like a cosmic explosion, painting the once-blank canvas with galaxies and starlight. The sky, vast and shimmering, came alive with stars—each one a tiny, twinkling miracle.

Before his eyes, chaos transformed into order. He heard it first: a deep, rhythmic hum. It was the sound of creation—the sound of Om. The voice of fire bubbled, vibrating through him, as a glowing gas bubble coalesced into a swirling sphere of water.

He watched in awe as rain fell, birthing rivers and oceans. Life emerged—a chorus of chirping birds, roaring volcanoes, and the rumble of creatures long extinct. He saw the first forests bloom, the raw beauty of Earth before humanity.

Then came another boom, louder and more devastating. The asteroid struck, a fiery harbinger of extinction. The lush, green paradise transformed into desolation, and silence returned.

The voice spoke again, colder this time:
"This was just the beginning."

Suddenly, the scene shifted. He stood amidst a war zone, the air thick with smoke and despair. Screams echoed—children crying, women wailing, and men shouting as they drew their final breaths. Greed and hatred painted the world in blood.

Through the chaos, he noticed an ambulance. Inside, a frail figure lay still. His heart clenched as he realized it was Anandi, the love of his life. Her fragile form was battered, yet her eyes—though closed—seemed to ache for him.

"Anandi!" he screamed, his voice raw with despair.

A single tear slid down her cheek as if she could feel his pain.

The noise around him grew unbearable—screams, sirens, explosions—all merging into a deafening cacophony.

And then, as if to silence it all, the piercing sound of an alarm clock shattered the chaos.

Fulkit's eyes flew open. He was back in his bed, drenched in sweat. The alarm blared at 4:00 a.m., the so-called Brahma Muhurta.

"Turn that off," a groggy voice murmured.

He glanced to his side. Half-asleep and bare-backed, Anandi lay beside him, her face serene despite the annoyance in her tone. Her vulnerability struck him more than her beauty, and he gently turned off the alarm.

"Sorry, baby," he whispered. "It's just a habit. Dadi used to say it's a divine hour, you know? The time when humans are closest to God."

"Mmm... divine hour or not, come back to bed," she muttered, pulling the blanket over herself.

Fulkit smiled faintly but couldn't shake the lingering weight of the dream. It felt too real, too vivid, to dismiss as mere imagination. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead—a gesture of love that anchored him.

As he lay back down, his mind raced. The dream had been a warning, a glimpse into something far greater than himself. He closed his eyes, but sleep evaded him.

The dream ends.


And so, his story began.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Whoa! That was something. Wasn't it?

Welcome to my latest story, When God Gets Bored. If you felt chills or goosebumps while reading, thank you for experiencing this journey with me.

This is my first work in 4–5 years, so I hope it meets your expectations. There's much more to come, and I can't wait to share it with you all.

Thank you for reading!

[Original content. Please don't copy or remake without permission.]™

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