Skip to main content

The migrant revolution

Stories and News No. 1183
This is a fairy tale, nothing to do with everyday life, that is hard to many and easy only to a few. Nevertheless, you will see that sooner or later everything will happen for real.

Once upon a time our beloved and troubled planet.
Once upon a time we, then as today, and probably tomorrow too.
Once upon a time there were also employees at the gates of the afterlife, ushers, security officers, or simple hostesses and stewards responsible for transit.
That day they were in great turmoil and never, since the beginning of time, the threat of a strike had been more possible.
The situation had become unsustainable and paradoxical.
At that moment, the workers responsible for the last of the human boundaries, perhaps the only one that really makes sense, felt intolerance and disbelief towards us.
Perhaps because there had been a time when they had been alive, exactly like us, and once they had passed away they had realized how much weight our dullness had. Unable to solve the problem on their own, they asked the older of them for help. As far as he had seen strange things, he did not have the suitable answer able to unblock the regrettable stalemate in which the process of ferrying souls had jammed.
Thus, though weary and limping, he got up and promised to raise the issue with his immediate superiors. I refer to the God of Christians and Allah, his prophet Muhammad and obviously Jesus, as well as Yahweh, the complete Hindu trimurti, Brahmā, Vishnu and Shiva, but also Confucius, the various deities of Taoism, Daoism, Shintoism and any other religion.
The problem was that the gods, all gods pleaded and worshiped since the first human being had seen the light, didn't show up around since a lot. They had been locked up in the conclave to argue heatedly, and the reasons were unknown to their subordinates.
The truth was that an increasingly growing group within the divine parliament – often fueled by obvious fake news, made and shrewdly spread by the diabolical tenant of the floor below – was tired of humans and proposed a definitive mass extinction. Maybe taking advantage of the consequences of global warming.
After all, it was the thought of many, they wrote their end.
However, the old clerk had a job to do. He knocked on the sacred door and after at least an hour of bows, and various demonstrations of reverence, he managed to speak.
"Your Gods," exclaimed the old man. "I could try to explain in words what's going on out here, but I think the best thing is that you see it all with your almighty eyes."
The ever-aged official preceded the various gods to the outside, and once they arrived at the entrance to the beyond, they realized what had happened.
A huge row of people, of which none of them could see the beginning, despite the perfection of their respective looks, crowded the road that led to the gates of hell.
"What's happening?" Asked one of the gods. "Who are those?"
"They are immigrants," replied the old man.
"And what are their sins?" Another asked.
"They don’t have any," explained the oldest of the humans present. "But as long as they were alive, humanity did everything to make them think of being guilty of migration, and each one of them, once he died, went to hell, even if he didn't deserve it at all."
"You will not let them in, I hope..." another god asked him.
"Certainly not," the clerk declared. "But the problem of clogging remains, even if the situation is much more tangled. Taking advantage of that, there is no longer anyone who deserves the hell to go in. With the result that the worst people, those really bad, petty or chronically selfish, they do not die and remain on earth as living mummies to accumulate wealth of which they no longer even feel better."
"What about paradise?" Intervened another divinity. "Who are those smiling guys at the gates of heaven, with trolleys, flip-flops and sunglasses?"
"Well... because of your absence on earth, they have corrupted the final judgment for the benefit of a privileged minority."
"But they are always the good ones, right?"
"No, it's just the ones that feel good and you all know better than me that it's never the same thing."
The gods were confused and perplexed, while proponents of the early extinction of mankind became even more compact in their hopes. The most reluctant were finally about to give in and agree too with the extreme solution, when a little girl turned away from the crowd on the road to hell, she passed the safety cordon unseen and reached the solemn heavenly assembly without fear. Difficult to have it after seeing death in the face at such a young age.
"I have a proposal," said the child in a ringing voice.
"Speak", one of the gods invited her.
"Since my brothers and I quarreled every night for those who should have been sleeping next to mom, she solved it with great intelligence."
"What did she do?" The old man asked.
"She told us that there is only one way to make justice and please everyone in this world. The sun and the moon, the stars and even the earth, the mother of all, taught us that."
"What is that?" Asked another god.
"You should know it, I think: to twist the knobs of destiny, when the time has come, and turn the sense of things so that everyone enjoys their moment in which to appreciate the value of light, like darkness. I mean, we took turns. Many mortals need a whole existence to understand it. But for you it should be the consequence of a simple gesture."
At that precise moment every creature, perfect or not, had a clear idea of what had to be done to put things back in order.
There followed a snap of divine fingers, a beat of eternal hands or transcendent eyelashes, even a mere unearthly glance and the device on which the entire afterlife was held was activated. A moment later, the holiest and fairest of the rotations took place.
A few seconds later, there was a big party among the immigrants and screams of joy went around everywhere, from the last earth border to all the universe itself. Because they found themselves in front of the gates of paradise.
At the same time, the thin line of elegant tourists with self-praised conscience were instead expected to hell.
"It's not fair!" Someone dared to protest.
"You don't know who you're dealing with," someone else yelled.
"You will hear news from my lawyer," another one threatened.
While the gods observed the scene satisfied, and the girl child was overwhelmed of hugs and thanks from the crowd, the old man immediately went back to work and joined the employees in charge of managing the damned.
"Guys, let's do it," he announced, pulling up his sleeves. "I am convinced that the revolution is not over here. I think at these turnstiles we will see endless swarms of alleged smart people who have not the faintest idea what awaits them at the end of the story..."

Subscribe to Newsletter