Bovine Comedy
A witty celestial comedy where Devarshi, CEO of Lok Sanchari Media, reports the bizarre world of mortal internet culture to Indra’s court. As the Gods witness the rise of toxic influencers on “Mucktube,” they debate the impact of arrogance, the absence of wisdom, and the inevitable workings of karma.
“Comedy is so subjective. You could be in a room with 400 people laughing at a joke and you could just not think it’s funny. You’re just sitting there like, ‘Am I in the twilight zone? Why is everyone laughing?’ It’s such a personal thing. People have such a personal visceral response to comedy.”
Devarshi, the CEO of Lok Sanchari media chuckled to read this quote as it flashed on the screen of his Skyphone. He mounted his aerial rice pounder and fastened his seat belt, all set to return from Bhulok to Swarglok. He prided himself on the invention of this transportation marvel which was both traditional and fuel efficient. The celestial breeze played with the tresses that popped out of top knot. He gleefully he hummed a tune on his veena, eager to report his latest findings to the court of Indra. His mission to Bhulok had been surprisingly enlightening, to say the least.
With a shrill metallic clank of his cymbals, he crash-landed inside Amravati’s golden halls, startling the holy ghosts out of a couple of wannabe apsaras who dashed for cover. He dusted himself off, adjusted his dhoti, and marched straight into Indra’s courtroom, where the Gods were already in the middle of their daily dose of celestial gossip.
The court of Lord Indra was bustling with voices. The golden pillars of Amravati trembled with celestial laughter, confused gasps, and the occasional explosion from Agni, who had accidentally sneezed on a chariot. The Gods, resplendent in their divine glory, were glued to a massive, floating celestial screen. Even Lord Vishnu had paused his nap on Adishesha to witness the travesty before them.
“Behold, O Celestial Ones!” Narada declared dramatically, striking a heroic pose. “I present to you Mucktube, a realm of mortals who seek attention through great acts of wisdom, skill, and…well, utter buffoonery.”
He strummed his veena and the screen flickered to life. A mortal youth appeared, wearing oversized sunglasses and a hoodie that covered half his face. The title of his video flashed in giant red letters: Decorum’s Got Flattened: How to Roast the Challengers.
“Ooh, a battle? A duel of intellect?” Saraswati leaned forward, intrigued.
But as soon as the mortal opened his mouth, a torrent of profanities erupted. Every second word was an insult, every joke was an attack on someone’s dignity, and every sentence was peppered with arrogance. His followers, an army of adoring mortals, flooded the comments with praises: “Epic roast, bro!” “Savage king!” “Mortal enlightenment level 100!”
The Gods were stunned into silence.
Finally, Yama, the Lord of Death, cleared his throat. “So… when does the intellectual duel begin?”
Narada sighed. “There is no duel, my Lord. This is the entertainment of the modern age.”
At that moment, Kartikeya entered, twirling his spear with youthful swagger. “What nonsense are the mortals up to now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Narada gestured to the screen. “Observe, O Youth Icon. This is how the young ones seek fame.”
Kartikeya watched for a moment, then grimaced. “By Skanda, this is worse than an Asura training camp. At least they have discipline. This mortal has the grace of a drunk yaksha.”
From the side, Ganesha, munching on a celestial modak, chuckled. “Brother, I think the yaksha would take offense to that comparison.”
Nandi, who had been chewing cud and watching absentmindedly, spoke up. “So, wait… This human just insults people for fun?”
Vringi, ever the blunt one, snorted. “And people watch this willingly? I thought only Asuras were into self-destruction.”
Indra, ever the king of spectacle, clapped his hands. “Marvelous! What a splendid battle of wits!”
“Battle of wits?” Parvati scoffed. “That mortal’s brain is emptier than a Rakshasa’s diet plan!”
Lakshmi shook her head in horror. “And yet, millions worship him?”
Narada nodded. “Indeed. The more he abuses others, the more adoration he receives. His subscribers multiply faster than demons in a poorly maintained ashram.”
Vishnu, who had been quiet all this while, finally spoke. “And what does he gain from this?”
Narada plucked a string. “Wealth, influence, and the ability to manipulate young minds into believing that respect is weakness and arrogance is power.”
Shiva, who had been staring at the screen with growing irritation, exhaled sharply. “And yet, not a single philosophical discourse, no dharma, no wisdom?”
Narada shrugged. “Dharma does not trend, Mahadev. Drama does.”
Indra, excited, turned to the celestial scribe Chitragupta. “Can we start our own Mucktube channel? Maybe a Heavenly Hot Takes series?”
Chitragupta, who had been taking notes on all the karma points the young mortals were rapidly losing, sighed. “Lord, even the demons of Patala have better taste than this.”
Meanwhile, Brahma, the creator, had been watching in silent horror. “I crafted these humans with such care, instilled them with logic, reason, and empathy. And this… this is what they choose to elevate?”
Kali, ever the blunt one, smirked. “Perhaps next time, design them with an ‘unsubscribe’ button?”
Suddenly, another video popped up. This time, it was a collaboration of the same MuckTuber with another loud-mouthed mortal. The title screamed: “DESTROYING A RANDOM GUY’S LIFE FOR CONTENT! EPIC TROLL!!”
A mortal stood in the video’s center, bewildered, as the MuckTuber hurled insults at him. The audience laughed. They cheered. They donated money.
Durga, who had been sharpening her sword, cracked her knuckles. “Ah. This mortal wishes to humiliate others for entertainment?”
Ganesha popped another modak in his mouth. “Seems like he enjoys chewing people up for content. Maybe he should try actual food instead?”
Shani, the ever-patient Lord of Karma, leaned back with a grin. “Wonderful. I shall pay him a visit in due time.”
Indra, intrigued, tapped the screen. “How do we punish such a mortal? A curse? A divine intervention?”
Shani chuckled. “No need. Let him bask in his hollow fame. Let him thrive in the poison he spews. One day, he will say the wrong thing, cross the wrong mortal, and the very audience that elevated him will destroy him. No curse needed. Karma is self-operating.”
Lakshmi sighed. “But by then, an entire generation will have been influenced. These mortals think cruelty is humour, insults are debate, and intelligence is overrated.”
Kartikeya leaned on his spear. “Then we fight back with dharma. If nonsense spreads fast, wisdom must spread faster.”
Just then, a notification popped up on the celestial screen. The MuckTuber in question had just uploaded another video: “APOLOGY VIDEO (Not Clickbait) – CRYING ON CAMERA!”
The Gods watched as the same mortal, now red-eyed and sniffling, dramatically apologized for his past behavior. But in the next breath, he plugged his merchandise. “Get the ‘Savage King’ hoodie, link in bio!”
Shiva stood up. “I am done.” He picked up his trident. “This has gone far enough.”
Narada stopped him. “Mahadev, patience. His own fans will turn against him soon.”
As if on cue, another video popped up: “EXPOSING THE FAKE APOLOGY – HE LIED!”
The cycle had begun. The same fans who worshipped him were now attacking him, calling for his cancellation. The Gods watched as the mortal, once the king of insults, now found himself drowning in the very mockery he had unleashed.
Shani smirked. “Like I said, Karma is efficient.”
Parvati exhaled. “But what of the young ones who still think this is the way to fame?”
Vishnu winked at Devarshi and whispered, “The cycle will continue. Some will learn, some will not. The Dumbhir Blahblahdias, Digital Hyenas and Rabble Kids would be replaced by similar bunch of idiots…. narakgami yuge yuge.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, divine or actual events is purely coincidental and unintentional.
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