On the door of Heaven and Hell,

“Death is the only absolution?” asked the guards of Paradise, God’s own land. “In all our years here, we’ve never met a human who’s said this.”

The Executioner stared blankly at the grand doors of Paradise. Adorned by fresh azaleas, the golden doors shone with a mystifying elegance.

“I have only this answer to offer, sir,” he said, his eyes transfixed on the small butterfly on the lush grass. “Death was the only absolution to my life. I was an old man in the world, weak and frail; it was my time to go and so, I have no complaints.”

The guards nodded. “All the applicants who come to Paradise apply for admission to Heaven. We always thought it was unwise of God to put such a perfunctory application- who would choose the inferno of Hell? But, you- you seem quite content with either, why so? What do you want?”

“Presently, I seek to meet God because I do not know where I belong,” he said, calmly. “Is stealing life from a man a crime according to the laws of Paradise?”

The guards nodded fervently.

“Well, then where does that man belong who’s executed people all his life?”

God was summoned for the judgement in Paradise. This man- old, weak and dead- who’d disregarded the comforts of Heaven definitely deserved to be summoned by God.

“You, the mortal, will be addressed henceforth as The Executioner until the judgement is pronounced. I have heard what my guards have briefed me about. Do tell me what is it that makes you so hopeless about even a bliss land as Heaven?”

“My Lord, my name in your land makes my profession evident. I served as the chief executioner of Central Jail as a mortal. My job was to oversee the hangings that took place upon judgements issued by the smaller courts of justice we have instituted in the other world.

While ordinary people wake up in the morning to pray and rush to their workplaces, the first thing I did in the morning was to see people stuffed in black masks lose their life with every passing, hear the desperation as the instinct for survival kicked in and still behold their last breaths.

“My Lord, for years, I have done this. It requires a cold, unemotional heart to do this.”

“But it makes you unafraid of death, stoic to the living and the dead,” mused God. “I wonder how many people in our land who have been executed by you. Guards,”

The guards of Paradise rushed upon God’s command.

“I want you to give me a count along with the names of every mortal in our land who’s here, by the will of the Executioner.”

“Wait,” exclaimed the Executioner. “If you’re going for a count, could you please tell me if young Naina is here too?”

A look of hope and anticipation swept every inflection of his haggard face. For the first time in years, a look of raw emotion had touched his face.

“Why do you look so emotional? Didn’t you say that you’ve developed a cold heart by virtue of all the years you’ve worked sending people to my land?” God asked.

“Naina…” The Executioner began. “God, if I had the power to bring her back to life, I would die a hundred times and live through the hundred atrocities in hell for a hundred lifetimes. She was a young girl, very young when she died. Infact, why should I lie? She was murdered. She was the daughter of a very old friend. What a bubbly, cheerful girl she was. I was never graced by the nurturing presence of a daughter, God, but I do wonder that if I ever had a daughter, she would’ve been exactly like Naina.

It was the winter of 2012 when all hell broke loose. Gangadhar, Naina’s father, worked as a postman in the Delhi, where I had been stationed for years. Even though their family was on the verge of destitution, they were true and honest people who worked hard to make ends meet. Naina was a brilliant student- she was studying to become a doctor,” he said, and paused to take a breath.

God shifted in his seat. When the gardener arrived to ask for his choice of flowers for the week, he shunned him away and desired not to be disturbed until the inquisition concluded.

“In the spring of 2012, Gangadhar decided to wed his daughter to a humble man from their native village in Haryana. Their engagement had been decided since their infancy. The boy was a lovely match for her, I had personally met him a couple of times.

To make arrangements for the winter wedding, Gangadhar left with his family to Haryana for a couple of weeks. He was hard up, sir, and was in a desperate need to arrange money. Hence, he decided to borrow some from the rich money-lending farmers in the village. Little did he know it was the biggest trap he’d fall into. The money-lender’s oldest son had his eyes set on Naina. Whenever she was alone, he stalked her and made promises of love. When she complained of it to me, I even sent a few guards to ensure her safety. But I failed, my Lord, I failed hopelessly.”

The Executioner broke into tears and fell on his knees as he narrated. God was left stunned. He had been taunting the Executioner from the very time he had knocked the doors of Paradise. Assuming him to be indifferent and supercilious for trying to replicate the monopoly over birth and death that He exercised, He was taken aback by the emotions the Executioner was emanating.

“On the day of her wedding, the money-lender’s son barged into the house and shot the groom. They dragged my friend Gangadhar all the way to the village centre and asked for the money. When he requested for more time, they pelted stones and sticks on him and beat him to death.

But it was Naina that met a fateful end, my Lord. In one night, she’d lost her groom and her father. But she was a brave girl- she refused to marry the money-lender’s son and was ready to lay down her life for that.”

Just then, a guard came into the room.

“My Lord, there is a girl named Naina, in Heaven. She looks after the ill people in our land.”

The Executioner face shone with hope. Every inch of his weak body gleamed at the renewed hope that Naina could, at least, get to live the life she deserved by doing what she always wanted to do.

“Go on, Executioner,” commanded God.

“She was burnt alive, my Lord,” he said, blankly, his eyes smeared with dry tears and horror as he recollected the heinous events. “The house was set on fire and she was burnt alive. All those dreams and hopes died with her that night.

When all this was happening, I remember being present for the court hearing of a young politician who’d managed to clear himself off the assault charges on him because of the political power that had been mustered by his rich family.

When I brought over the case of Naina before the court, it was dismissed because of lack of the lack of evidence.

You see Lord, we mortals believe that we are the masters of the Universe. I felt so too, for I was an executioner. Even though the job is ghoulish and riddled with morbid elements, it gives you a sense of power- rather, an illusion of power which makes you believe that the life and death of an individual rests upon one movement of your finger. You command the last breaths they take; you witness the restlessness as their lungs beg and gasp for every last inch of air. This sense of false prestige makes you feel akin to God, however what sort of a God fails when misery befalls their own closed ones? The desperate times, the hopelessness as you try to fight for justice in a court that empowers justice is strong enough to shake any man’s heart and mine was no exception.

“I’ll say it again Lord, if only I could give her the life she deserved, the respect she deserved back!” the Executioner wailed.

“I grant you the power,” said God, in a voice that reflected the inner emotions of pain and grief. Tears rolled down His cheeks. “I grant you the power to bring her back from the dead. I also grant you to go back to your mortal self in the other world.”

The Executioner gazed at God with a look of disbelief. He feel on His feet and thanked him for allowing Naina to get back to her mortal self, to begin a new life. “I couldn’t have asked for more. I cannot thank you enough. As far as I am concerned, I have lived my share of life. The hopelessness that dwells in those closed jail cells, the injustice that lives in the courtrooms of my land aren’t something I’d like to live through again. Your court of justice, unlike ours is unbiased and honest. I trust it more. I have nothing more to say, you can send me wherever you want as long as Naina gets to live her life.”

God considered this thought. “I declare you worthy of living in Heaven, Executioner. You’re a kind man who let go off his own chances to give life to a young girl. Isn’t this what kindness is about? It’s a dish that savours the more you share. Inspite of living a life amidst death, you seek a new life for someone else- you indeed are akin to God.

“We often forget how important it is to preserve our virtues of love, empathy and concern. It isn’t something you practice only for the people you know, it applies to every individual, to all of mankind. Happiness is fostered by kindness; it is a flower that blooms even in the darkest of days if one believes in the power of giving.”