The Forbidden Fruit

God skimmed through his inbox for the fourth time since morning. He had received no new prayer emails. His prayer box was full of reminders from various religious institutions and tons of forwards. The last one has sent him into a maddening frenzy. It had said:

“It’s time you performed a miracle, you know, it’s becoming hard to glorify your past work and expect people to believe it. They want to see a miracle now.”

God ignored the message and the reminders kept coming.

Another religious head had sent a rather shady message with the subject line “confessions of a hypocrite”

God didn’t open the mail. He couldn’t deal with the stress of it all. He drummed his fingers against his desk and began to brood.

What’s with this generation? Don’t they have needs? Is it time for me to send a swarm of locusts upon them?

He shifted uneasily in his chair and looked around hoping he hadn’t thought it out loud. He couldn’t let such destructive thoughts get the better of him. “Bad day?” Said a voice, startling him.

God looked up, Lucifer was sitting atop a shelf with the book, ‘How to get away with crucifixion’, plopped open in his lap.

“Good choice”, said God eying the book. “Also what are you doing here?”
“You had a bad idea. I can make it happen.”
“Oh stop. I’m just bored.”
“As am I,” said Lucifer.
“Why is that?” Asked God.

“Well everyone blames you these days for all bad things that happen, it’s taken away my thunder. You really must stop this.”
“Blame me? Why?”
“Prayers have been falling on deaf ears”, is the accusation doing the rounds.
“I have received no prayers in years. I get these templates— look” said God pointing at his prayer box.

Lucifer looked at the messages. Almost a million of them began the same way:

“Father thou art holy and thou...”

“Do you even understand archaic English?” Asked Lucifer.
“I skip the big words.”
“I see!”

“I have only been getting direct requests from religious heads who seem desperate that I perform some miracle. The others just send me these templates. It’s rather impersonal.”
“Those are prayers”, said the devil who was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“And all of them have the same request?”

“They are told since a very young age that they can’t ask you for things directly. They need a priest to intervene and place their request for them.”

“That’s the lamest thing I’ve heard since Peter pretending to not know me.”

“Well, that’s why you don’t get direct requests”, said Lucifer smugly.

“Who told them this nonsense?”

“I don’t have the time to go into details,” said Lucifer.
“Yeah because you’re so busy being cryptic, aren’t you?”

“I’m busy having a good time. I’ll just tell you this, if you really want them to talk to you, they must have the forbidden fruit.”

“You are always up to shady tricks, aren’t you? Did you really think I’d fall for that?” Said God turning to face Lucifer who had vanished just as he had appeared.

“Where the devil did he go?” Said God, a bit upset at being alone.

“You called ?” Said a voice appearing at the threshold of the room.

“I didn’t. But now that you’re here, you must know that Lucifer was here and he was mocking me” said God.

“He didn’t have an appointment,” said Gabriel.
“Obviously not Gabe. He just shows up, doesn’t he? Old habits die hard.”
“Indeed!”
“Gabe, what’s the forbidden fruit?”
“It was first mentioned in the Genesis, Sir.”
“The what?”
“Genesis,” said Gabriel pointing at a voluminous book occupying the very start of the shelf.
“Tell me more.”
Gabriel stifled a cough,” metaphorically the forbidden fruit can mean many things. But in a literal sense, it means an Apple.”

“Oh! The Apple. I remember. The one I told Adam not to eat because Lucifer loomed about that tree.”
“Well, you didn’t really tell him why he shouldn’t eat it. The miscommunication was exploited by Lucifer who convinced him that should he eat it, he’d become as wise as you.“

God laughed, “Did he really think eating an apple would make him wise?”
Gabriel’s lips curled, “Well, it enforced in his mind the false notion that seeking wisdom is a sin and hence he must blindly obey without question. A lot of religious institutions exploit this belief to meet their ends.”

“Adam ate the apple despite my warnings, didn’t he?”
“He did and you had to banish him because he disobeyed you.”

God drummed his fingers on the desk. “A bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“Well” began Gabriel awkwardly.
“Anyway, Lucifer said I should let the people have it. What do you think that means?”

Gabriel stifled a yawn. “I think what he means is that people must know that true wisdom is in seeking you themselves. Not through any institution. But of course, Lucifer enjoys riddles which is why he dramatized the whole thing.”

God sighed. “Thank you, Gabe. That will be all.”

God stared at his prayer box with despair.
“Peter,” he said out loud.

Peter appeared at the door. “You called.”
“I’m going back down there.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know what happened the last time.”

Peters prayer phone began to buzz. ‘Cuckadoodledoo’ the device wailed.
Peter shifted uncomfortably. “The others may have changed the tone. They never tire of the act.”
“It is funny though,” laughed God. Peter didn’t look very pleased.

“Peter, have you ever played Chinese Whispers?”
“Well, no but I know how it’s played. Mark, John and the others play it down at the Holy Barn.”
“The message gets diluted and changes meaning as it passes through different hands.”
“Yes,” said Peter uncertainly.
“The prayers reach me in a diluted form. Something gets added, something gets omitted in the process. Look at this prayer here. Its so cryptic I’ll have to call Robert to solve it.”

“Robert?”
“Langdon,” said God.

Peter peered into the prayer box. The message said:

“Please help if examination passing topping ninety physics math especially. Pilgrimage.”

“Baffling.” Said God with trifle concern.
“I think it means if he gets more than 90 percent in physics and math, he will go on a pilgrimage.” Said, Peter.
“Oh, a bribe. That’s worse.” Said God with alarm.
Peter looked away.

“Look at this one.” Said God pointing at another prayer. It said :
“Offering milk. Baby boy.”
“Umm,” said God.
“He’ll offer you milk if he gets a son”, said Peter helpfully.
“I am lactose intolerant, don’t they know?”
“Humans offer you things they like. Not things you like. For instance gold and money.”
“Yeah what am I to do with paper and shiny stones?”
“What seems valueless to you holds a lot of value down there. Religious institutions take the offerings in your name.”
“So people make offerings in exchange for their prayers being passed on to me?”
“That’s the procedure, yes.”
“It’s a scam.” Said, God.
“Yes.”
“Also why are people so stupid?”
“You should know. You created them.” Said, Peter.
God raised his eyebrows at Peter. To which Peter quickly added, “People do not seek you themselves. They think it’s forbidden. Hence the middlemen.”

“I’m going back down there. I can’t keep reading templates and bribes. Someone ought to tell them that they can talk to me directly and don’t need a priest or prophet to intercede for them.”

“I don’t advise it. Things are different down there since the last time you visited. Why not send a flood?”

“Peter!” Said, God.
Peter shrugged, “it's just easier.”
“But so wrong”
“But so much fun.”
God shook his head and looked over at the giant blue Globe. “No, banishment hasn’t worked.”

“Neither did giving them written instructions on stone.” Said Peter avoiding the glare from Moses’s portrait.
“True.”
“The last time you went there yourself, they nailed you to a cross.”

“Well this time to get my message across, I’m going to do something different.”
“What?” asked Peter.

“I’ll break the internet.”