Gelio!

The crisp covers smelled of flowers and vineyards, summery cool, or wintry hot; I wasn’t sure. Last night had been heaven! Rhetorically and literally! What could heaven be, if not heavenly? I look at myself; the glint of light diffusing into a riot of colours, hitting the diamond on my navel ring. My breasts look so round and white; inviting...

I look at myself again. My body looks like it has been made instagram-worthy through the choicest filters, just like the Victoria’s Secret angels. No... they are too bronzed up; I think I look more like Marylin Monroe in her classic portfolio, or like Dita Von Teese, looking impeccable in her MAC cerise lip colour.

Did I do it with a God? A GOD? Did Gods make you pregnant? Well, Greek Gods did. I remember! Who knows? Even others might. But this wasn’t the problem at hand. The thing that bugs me is that I was supposed to make the God laugh. It was a wild proposal, but I’d accepted it. Strangely, the last drink I’d had in the mortal world was inside this fancy Night Club called ‘Rag-na-Rok’, a homophone for Ragnarök, I guessed. What a wild combination of Nordic catastophe and Greek tragedy!

Yeah, I’m well-read. Comparative Literature, that is! But why in three worlds would He want me to make him laugh?

“So, you didn’t keep your deal yesterday. It’s about time.”

I was shaken by the low and grumbling voice that spoke from somewhere very near me. Swiftly turning around, I tried to pull the covers around myself, as I couldn’t see my clothes.

“Oh... don’t even bother.” He said, his cerise robes billowing around him, making him appear bigger and mightier than I could remember him from last night.

“I... I thought we had quite a few laughs, genuine ones yesterday night.”

I’m stammering, I realize.

“No cheating! I see you’re a wily little woman, who tries to fleece even a God, of his fair share of pleasures.”

I noticed a lurching ombre note in his eyes; I hadn’t noticed that his grey-blue eyes had specks of red fire dancing in the irises. I realized this wasn’t a game anymore. Maybe the meth and the vodka had really worn off, and I wasn’t dreaming any longer. This had by far been the best of dreams, thus far.

“Oh... I see. You’re thinking this is another of your drug-inspired dreams, right? No, my dear. It isn’t.”

“But why should you ask a mortal like me to make you laugh? I don’t understand. If an perpetuity of inebriation hasn’t been able to do it, how could I, a mere woman do that?”

“Comparative literature? yeah? Ever heard the word ‘microcosm’? I know... I know... Robe-donning tousled haired Greek Gods aren’t so ignorant either. An eternity is a long time to make wise men out of even the king of fools. ‘The Hunchback of Notredame, Victor Hugo’. The term wasn’t used for denoting a fool, really, but mine was rhetorical. So, I was reiterating on the concept of microcosm. We all live in our own microcosm. We know the room, the home, the street, the planet and even the universe, to the best of our own knowledge and comprehension. So, why should it bother you if I wasn’t able to laugh with all the grape-juice down my throat? You should concentrate on winning the bet with the version of me, you find standing in front of you, right here, and now.”

“Interesting, but why should I even try doing that?” I ask haughtily.

“Because you know the challenge. You die if you lose.”

“And you die if I win?” I asked.

“Gods don’t die. I will come to inebriate you again. Maybe as someone different, not as the cool looking dude with rippling muscles and a ‘Godesque’ physique.” Dionysus was confident.

I summoned my thoughts with every ounce of strength left in me. The last night must have been real rough, because I was feeling drowned and unable to breathe. An all-consuming pain was wracking through my body, but I couldn’t look elsewhere. Those eyes, those vampiric eyes were sapping me of my vitality. I had to act fast, or I’d wind up dead.

Dio...ny...sian laughter....was the pre...cur...sor of Greek tragedies... The all-con...suming and... all-devour...ing laugh...ter. But pi..tted against the Apollonean laughter....what... did... Nietzsche say? Pitted against A...po...llo...ne...an laugh....ter, it lost its...... sheen. Because Apollonean laughter was the....harbinger of all things bright, like...Homeric epics, the blooming flowers....

“You’re trying to dupe me? After all the love I showed towards you?” The flash of anger in his voice was evident. “I’m going to come after you, I’ll destroy you....destroy you....You’re dead....cold and dead... finished.” And then Dionysus began laughing. It was unbearable... the grumbling, growling, chilling rapacious laughter froze my blood in my veins. A cold wave ran down my spine.

And then, I laugh along... Something strange is happening...

“I win. Some other day, dear God! Goodbye!”

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As I come back to my senses, I see the doctor who’s been giving me CPR.

“Wh...what happened?” I ask, trying to get up, but am eased down.

“Your fatal cocktail... or... near-fatal cocktail almost did it. We lost you. Almost, but that was until you began laughing.”

I remembered Dionysus. He’d come looking for me, he said. I wouldn’t let him win his bet. Thanos was better, but before that, Gelos needed some dedicated time from me.

Broken life could be bridged, after all. I’d shunned happiness that had come my way. But when life gave you lemons, you made lemonade.

Theoretically, literally, philosophically and rhetorically...

I whispered to myself.