Prologue:

In Hindu mythology, the journey of the afterlife begins with a crucial judgment. Yama, the god of death and justice, is tasked with deciding whether a soul is destined for heaven or hell, and whether it is eligible for rebirth. However, this divine duty isn’t one Yama handles alone. His loyal aide, Chitragupta, meticulously records every person’s deeds, good and bad, acting as the ultimate cosmic accountant. This light-hearted story offers a playful glimpse into an ordinary day in the heavenly office.

The Story:

“It’s a long day,” sighs Chitragupta, slamming his book onto the table with a thud. He drops his quill and stretches his arms wide, letting out a groan of relief. Leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, he lets the dazzling courtroom fade away, surrendering to the calming embrace of darkness. In that moment, he silently wishes that when he opens his eyes, the courtroom would disappear entirely, whisking him away from the endless accounts and celestial bureaucracy that weigh so heavily on his shoulders

“Only half the day has passed; we still have another half to go!” Yama exclaims, looking down at Chitragupta from his elevated throne.

Scrunching his eyebrows, Chitragupta opens his eyes and mutters, “Easier said when you are perched on your high and mighty throne!”

“Huh?” Yama replies, narrowing his eyes. He was not particularly fond of Chitragupta’s cheeky tone. Divine Kings weren’t meant to deal with audacious accountants—it was one of those unwritten rules, he was certain.

Chitragupta’s expression shifts to one of playful innocence. “I said things are not the same for the Almighty King and a mere Accountant.” he replies sarcastically.

Yama leans forward, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You think I’m lounging in luxury up here? I handle souls every day! It’s not all celestial feasts and cloud napping, you know.” He scoffs and leans back in his ornate seat. “Maybe if you spent less time taking breaks and more time at work, I would not have to deal with souls whose paperwork is incorrect.”

Chitragupta, sensing Yama’s rising frustration, quickly retorts, “It was a work discussion! The lunch was with the accountants from the other worlds. I might have a new system to manage Earth’s population growth.” He pitches the idea with a hopeful glint in his eyes, desperate to distract Yama from the brewing storm.

Yama arches an eyebrow, momentarily intrigued. But just as quickly, his stern expression returns. “A new system, you say?” He raises a hand, cutting off Chitragupta’s attempt to dive deeper. “Save that for later, after judgment time. Souls are waiting, and paperwork—correct or not—will not sort itself.”

Chitragupta, clearly annoyed by Yama’s callous reply, nods and opens his notebook. To his surprise, he finds an unexpected note: “You will stumble upon an obstacle that changes your course.” His eyes widen in astonishment as he stares at the message. There is only one reason for this cryptic statement—divine notebooks can only be read by their owners. For everyone else, they serve as a book of fortunes.

Yama, seated majestically upon his throne, readies himself for the courtroom proceedings. “Let the session start. Call in the first soul of the day!” he announces, his voice resonating through the grand chamber. When silence follows, he glances at Chitragupta, whose face—an awkward mix of guilt and a hesitant smile—grates on Yama’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“Now what?” Yama demands. His voice is booming across the courtroom, causing the earlier bustling audience to freeze in anticipation. Their eyes are fixed on him as they await the unfolding drama.

Chitragupta slowly rises from his chair and approaches the throne. Leaning in closer, he lowers his voice and whispers into Yama’s ear, “Ummm… Can I make an urgent inter-galactic hell call? And… and…” He stutters, his nerves palpable.

“And?”

“We also need to push the judgment back by at least an hour.”

“What? Why?” Yama replies, his furious whisper barely contained.

“Well, you see, I came to the court directly from the lunch meeting… It seems my bag got mixed up. I accidentally took another accountant’s book, and I think he should have mine!”

Yama’s eyes widen in fear and astonishment. “Let’s discuss this in MY OFFICE,” he whispers angrily. He turns to the court and announces, “Court adjourned until further notice. Everyone, be on standby.” A palpable tension fills the air as the members in attendance exchange anxious glances. Too intimidated to question him, they nod in unison. Their silence is heavy with the weight of unspoken concern.

Rising from his throne, he strides toward his office, expecting Chitragupta to follow. Instead, he hears a loud thud. Turning back, he sees Chitragupta sprawled face-first on the floor, having tripped over Yama’s whip. Yama rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. It’s going to be a long day, he thinks to himself.

“I didn’t expect the prediction to be so literal!” Chitragupta thinks to himself, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He can feel Yama’s piercing stare burning into him. Quickly scrambling to his feet before Yama can make a comment, he hurries toward Yama, gesturing that he is alright.

Yama’s Office:

Chitragupta scans Yama’s office, taking in the lavish surroundings. It is a soundproof room, almost like a palace in itself, adorned with opulent decor. At the centre sits another throne-like golden chair that gleams under the celestial light. It is accompanied by a large golden table that is chaotic with a mountain of paperwork. He can’t help but groan internally, knowing that this mountain of paperwork will inevitably land on his own desk, since he is Yama’s proxy.

The sheer extravagance of it all makes Chitragupta’s own office feel like a humble storage closet in comparison. His workspace is half the size, cramped and cluttered. It lacks even a hint of gold—unless you count the faded yellow post-it notes scattered around like desperate little flags. How is it fair that the Almighty King has a throne room while I’m stuck in a glorified cubicle? He muses, a twinge of jealousy creeping into his thoughts as he tries to stifle a sigh.

Yama occupies the centre of the large table, the only spot that is clear of the towering piles of paperwork. His massive figure is elevated, giving him an imposing presence. Chitragupta pulls up a chair and sinks into it, feeling the weight of the moment. Once he settles, Yama asks in a dangerously calm tone, “Can you explain in detail?”

“Well, like I mentioned before, the five of us met at the Volcano Restaurant for lunch,” Chitragupta stammers, losing his usual eloquence as he scrambles for the right words. “I think our items got swapped. I now have someone else’s book, but I have no idea whose it is, since the book does not reveal anything if you are not the owner.”

“And?” Yama prompts, suspicion lacing his voice as he scrutinizes Chitragupta.

“Nothing more! If I can make a couple of inter-galactic calls, we can find out right away!” Chitragupta announces, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the situation.

“I know there’s more to this story than you’re telling me, so I’ll ask again: And?” Yama insists, noticing Chitragupta fidgeting with his pen and pointing at it. “It’s not like you to make such mistakes. I’m just worried this could be a scheme by someone from Planet Zircon.”

“No, Laila was not part of this lunch,” Chitragupta replies assertively. “We were just discussing our work problems at the restaurant. I had to pull out my notebook to refer to a couple of things, and so did some of the others.”

“Let me summarize: You took the book with the divine secrets out of the office without any security, you opened it in front of divine beings from other galaxies, and then you lost it? If word gets out, every soul in hell will flood us with secondary appeals citing accounting negligence. It’ll be like the Karna fiasco, but a million times worse!” Yama exclaims, trying to stay rational while teetering on the edge of losing his mind.

“It must be Sugayan or Tanisa; the three of us were the only ones who took our notebooks out,” Chitragupta says with a hint of worry in his voice.

Yama sighs, rubbing his temples. “Alright, let’s make those calls. We need that book back in our hands within the next hour. Otherwise, I’ll have to report this to Brahma. As the creator and the one who oversees our duties, he does not take these things lightly. Do you remember the last time we lost The Book?”

“Oh yeah, I dropped it by accident while we were flying to his heavenly realm for the monthly audit. It plummeted right into the human world!” Chitragupta recaps, his voice rising in alarm. “Brahma ordered us to go in disguise as mortals to search for the book amongst them.” he shudders, his face twisting in discomfort. “Ohhh… I don’t ever want to recall that memory again! The mortals had no idea they were being watched by divine beings, and let me tell you, their lives are not as glamorous as ours!”

Just then, they hear a knock on the door. With a flick of his wrist, Yama makes the door magically transparent to see who’s on the other side. It’s his assistant, Charula, holding an inter-galactic phone, pointing to it with an urgent finger. Yama gives a slight nod and beckons him in with a wave of his hand.

Charula steps in respectfully, bowing slightly as he hands the phone to Yama. “My Lord, this is an urgent call from the Ruler of Hell on the planet Saxum,” he says, his tone full of deference. Yama takes the phone and, with a calm nod, gestures for Charula to leave. He waits patiently for the door to close behind him before beginning the conversation.

“Greetings, Ruler of Saxum Hell. It’s not often that we receive calls from your realm. What pressing matter requires my attention?” Yama asks, carefully avoiding the mention of his own chaotic circumstance first.

“Yama, Lord of Justice, I appreciate your time. I wish this call was under a more favourable circumstance. It seems we have a rather… peculiar situation. Your court accountant and mine have somehow switched their Celestial Record Books. I trust you understand the gravity of such a mix-up in our realms.”

“Indeed, we must act quickly,” Yama states, his expression serious. He glances at Chitragupta, who is nervously fidgeting with a pen as if it’s about to explode. “This mix-up has caused more trouble than either of us can afford. I suggest we waste no time. Chitragupta can utilise the inter-galactic teleportation device to reach your realm without delay, to exchange the books and restore order to our respective domains. The sooner we resolve this, the better for both of our operations.”

“Thank you, Yama. I will send the invitation immediately. I look forward to resolving this matter swiftly.” With that, he ends the call.

“I guess I should get going,” Chitragupta interjects as soon as the call ends, eager to set things right.

“Yes, you should,” Yama replies, his tone brisk but still concerned. “The invitation should be waiting for you by the time you arrive at the portal. In the meantime, I’ll make an announcement to start the Court of Judgment in half an hour.”

“Okay, I will be back by then.” Chitragupta grabs the golden notebook in front of him, with determination etched on his face as he prepares to leave.

Just before Chitragupta reaches the door, Yama calls out, “You have to record everyone’s sins and mishaps, even the Gods are not spared. Do you keep track of your own blunders as well?”

Chitragupta turns back with a smug smile, “Of course! It’s my divine duty to record my sins in the Sacred Ledger, but…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “the ledger reveals itself only to the owner. No one else can read it—not even the Gods!” He gives Yama a cheeky nod before striding out of the room.

Yama sighs, muttering to himself, “Some things are best left unasked.“

— The End —