Just do as I say. Use simple English to help the reader understand. The point is not to show off your vocabulary. But for the message to reach the masses. Do you understand?

Do you really think you understand the masses? Just in case you haven't noticed, they live an extremely different life than yours.

Doesn't matter what our lives are like. At the end of the day we will all be affected the same. If we want to change that, we need to be smart about it. So as I mentioned earlier, "Just do as I say!"

*

The constant sound of metal rubbing against stone, echoed incoherently, leaving no space for chatter or casual humming which would otherwise fill the kitchen, till it was again playtime for Nallah and his temporary squinty-eyed friends of Dzükou Valley.

During the weekdays, there were hardly any guests, as compared to the jam-packed weekends.

The caretakers at the guest house would desperately wait for Monday, to take a well deserved break from all the wood cutting, tent pitching, meat cooking, and the most dreaded, dish washing.

The only things they cleaned apart from their dishes were themselves. Life there was as primitive as it could get, ever since the discovery of fire and the invention of tools by early men.

It was Thursday. The porters had arrived early afternoon, carrying the rations that would get consumed over the next few days. After eating a bellyful meal followed by a cup of red tea, they all got ready to get some snacks for the evening, as accompaniments for a few bottles of dark rum.

There were no shops in the valley. Unlike alcohol, which the porters generously added to their baskets before starting the trek, snacks had to be hunted after reaching the valley.

All the caretakers and the porters had assembled in the kitchen with different metal tools, and a bag of pebble-sized stones of different shapes. The objective was to turn all the stones into a well-rounded shape that would prevent them from swaying in the air after they are launched from a catapult, towards a target. Uneven stones would do just that and eventually lead to lesser number of snacks on the plate by evening. Within minutes, they were all sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, using machetes, filers, ladles, and any metal object they could get their hands on, to rub off the stone edges, one ammunition at a time.

"Is there anything for breakfast?" Nallah asked, rubbing his eyes, as he entered the kitchen for the first time during the day. The hair on the left side of his head were standing straight up, as if they were searching for a signal to get connected to the world he was now in.

"Cook it yourself" A clear voice emerged from the epicentre of the metallic stone noise.

Each day had brought something new for Nallah in the past few weeks that he had spent ir

Dzükou. This day was just the same, ready to deliver more than he expected.

Nallah pulled a piece of log and settled his stout ass down, right in front of the pack of short, lean men who were focussed completely on the task at hand. Soon, the floor around them was covered with almost perfectly round stones. Unaware of what they were actually for, Nallah, pertinent to his character, went on an imaginative spree, empty stomach.

He thought of the round stone as a planet, that the children of Gods were preparing to throw across the universe, just to score a point for each one that sticks around a star in an orbit.

*

The constant sound of metal rubbing against stone, echoed incoherently, leaving no space for chatter or casual humming which would otherwise fill the kitchen, till it was again playtime for Nallah and his temporary squinty-eyed friends of Dzükou Valley.

During the weekdays, there were hardly any guests, as compared to the jam-packed weekends.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The caretakers at the guest house would desperately wait for Monday, to take a well deserved break from all the wood cutting, tent pitching, meat cooking, and the most dreaded, dish washing.

The only things they cleaned apart from their dishes were themselves. Life there was as primitive as it could get, ever since the discovery of fire and the invention of tools by early men.

It was Thursday. The porters had arrived early afternoon, carrying the rations that would get consumed over the next few days. After eating a bellyful meal followed by a cup of red tea, they all got ready to get some snacks for the evening, as accompaniments for a few bottles of dark rum.

There were no shops in the valley. Unlike alcohol, which the porters generously added to their baskets before starting the trek, snacks had to be hunted after reaching the valley.

All the caretakers and the porters had assembled in the kitchen with different metal tools, and a bag of pebble-sized stones of different shapes. The objective was to turn all the stones into a well-rounded shape that would prevent them from swaying in the air after they are launched from a catapult, towards a target. Uneven stones would do just that and eventually lead to lesser number of snacks on the plate by evening. Within minutes, they were all sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, using machetes, filers, ladles, and any metal object they could get their hands on, to rub off the stone edges, one ammunition at a time.

"Is there anything for breakfast?" Nallah asked, rubbing his eyes, as he entered the kitchen for the first time during the day. The hair on the left side of his head were standing straight up, as if they were searching for a signal to get connected to the world he was now in.

"Cook it yourself" A clear voice emerged from the epicentre of the metallic stone noise.

Each day had brought something new for Nallah in the past few weeks that he had spent ir

Dzükou. This day was just the same, ready to deliver more than he expected.

Nallah pulled a piece of log and settled his stout ass down, right in front of the pack of short, lean men who were focussed completely on the task at hand. Soon, the floor around them was covered with almost perfectly round stones. Unaware of what they were actually for, Nallah, pertinent to his character, went on an imaginative spree, empty stomach.

He thought of the round stone as a planet, that the children of Gods were preparing to throw across the universe, just to score a point for each one that sticks around a star in an orbit.

*

Whenever the Children of Gods are lost, someone from the divine world appears in the human form, to show them the way back home. They first appeared in the body of a dacoit named Valmiki, and helped him write the oldest epic called 'Ramayana'. It defined the rights and wrongs for the civilisation at that time and helped them grow a moral consciousness. Then many years later, when the people were fighting amongst themselves over how they defined rights and wrongs, the divine being found a way into the minds of Ved Vyas, the top-most position of ancient scholars, and through them they wrote 'Mahabharata'. During that period, their purpose was to dissolve the boundaries of rights and wrongs, so that the Children of Gods could be more tolerant towards each other. Many years later, to reintroduce the paths of right and wrong, along with a calendar structure that inspired everyone to be more productive, they descended again to the pale blue dot and narrated 'Bible' to multiple scholars. Finally, when the Children of God were divided into classes based on their productivity, they reappeared to dictate 'Quran' to Muhammad and brought them all together. There were many more instances when they showed light to the lost ones, but these four were the major ones in that spark's moment of the firework which Shakti had pointed to.

This time, they had appeared to make the Children of God less angry and more peaceful, irrespective of their morals, tolerance, productivity and class. To do this, they chose a person, who they felt had practiced the utmost form of discipline for many years, and had developed control over his thoughts like no other being that had ever lived, or ever would.

He was born to parents with polarising classes, productivity, tolerances and morals, so he had had the opportunity of exploring a broad spectrum of thoughts ever since his childhood. His constant movement across different parts of the world, due to the travelling nature of his parents' lifestyle, only added to his observations. Every year he would find himself in a new school, making friends who spoke a new language, belonging to a new culture. By the time he became a teenager, his mind had been trained to be open to all ways of thinking, living and being. It was no surprise to his parents when he left his home as soon as he turned into an adult, and began his travel adventures, on his own, to continue the mindset he was brought up with. He could no more stay at one place with a constant thought process for a long time. Seeking new people and perspectives, on one of his expeditions, he ended up in Nagalim. That's what the tribes of that region wanted it's name to be. So he accepted the name instead of the legal name given to it, according to the country's constitution. Near the capital of Nagalim, was an untouched valley called Dzükou, where he was told that electricity and network tower signals could not reach. The very next morning, he found himself on a long trek, at the end of which he was cut out from the rest of the world, and he gladly made a guest house managed by a tribal organisation, his temporary home.