The Butterfly - A Science Fiction Rendition

Brahma was furious. He had fired his fierce crystallizer towards the rotten creature, and yet his anger towards the thing that dared to enter his garden and make it look ugly. And yet, even after he had crystallized it, he was angry. It was a strange set of events that had led him to be so furious as to throw weapons in his very own garden.

Brahma was fond of gardening. He took pride in the beauty of the various flowers that he, the Creator, had created from the elements of nature; those very elements that he had created by moulding the various molecules and atoms that were moving about without any purpose in this universe. Now, what is Brahma, or who is Brahma, you may ask. Brahma was the force, the matter behind everything, the Higgs Boson itself. It was powerful enough to create everything out of itself, by stripping itself to create molecules so that he could re-engineer them to create new entities. And it was thus that he had created the earth, the water flowing on it, the soil that nourished the flowers that he had created by re-engineering of the various pieces of his own self.  Even the animals that roamed around everywhere were his creations. And yet, in spite of being the Creator, the originator of everything, he was particularly fond of gardening, and was extremely partial to the various flowering plants and trees like jacaranda, begonias, mulberries, orchids and the many many varieties that adorned his garden. It was a biome that Brahma had created – a biome that was meant exclusively for Brahma to frolic around in, to dream, to conceive new lives, to create. For what else was the role of the Creator, but to create this universe of ours and everything that we perceive to be in it?

Nothing was permitted in his garden. Brahma had ensured that none could enter it. No man, no animal, no bird – nothing that lives was permitted in this pristine atmosphere could dare to even by error stray into the garden. Doing so would invite the wrath of the Creator, who could within the blink of an eye summon weapons that could vaporize you or crystallize you to eternity, making glowing amber lights that stood like night lamps, lighting up the garden, which then seemed straight out of a dream sequence (depends on what you imagine your dream sequence to be). And yet…..

But it happened. There was a small squiggle of a creature, an ugly crawling creature who knew not what was around it to move in. The caterpillar had mistakenly moved into the Creator’s garden and started doing all that it could. It started to chew onto leaves, its staple diet. Now Brahma had created the insect and had not said anything about it. But this poor ugly creature was ignorant about everything around it. All it meant to do was what it could do – crawl around, explore its world and just eat non-stop.

Brahma had come out for his afternoon stroll. He had had a decent sleep, and wanted to refresh himself, and had thus decided that what would re-energize him and inspire him to perform his duties, to help him truly create. And the moment he stepped into the garden, he was horrified. The whole garden was in a mess. Leaves had been bitten, torn and strewn all over the garden. Brahma was outraged. Who had dared to create a mess of this order in the garden of Brahma, the Creator, where even the winds could not dare to walk across? As he traced the trail of chewed up leaves, he was led to the ugly creature, that small caterpillar. “How dare you ruin my garden? Do you even know who I am? I am Brahma, the Creator, and you dared to ruin my garden!” he screamed, enraged by the disaster that had been created. He pulled out his crystallizer. Within a jiffy he fired it, and the poor caterpillar had started to freeze into a solid mass. It had started to tie itself up into knots, and it became more and more difficult to move as it struggled to open itself out.

“Please free me,” pleaded the poor insect, as it struggled in vain, and the crystal formation started covering it up, engulfing every bit of its body. But Brahma was in no mood to listen to the painful cries, even if it had been his favorite thing, his garden (were it a human) to cry out for help from Brahma.

“What did I do? Am I not your creation o Brahma? If you so hated me then why did you create me o Brahma?” asked the caterpillar, its voice choked with sadness, as its entire body got covered at that very moment.

Brahma was dumbstruck. Nothing had ever asked him this question. And yet, the question hit him like lightning. The caterpillar was not wrong. It was created by him, was a part of him in every meaningful sense. How could he, the Creator, discriminate on the basis of its look? Even Brahma had the right to make mistakes, and this was but an insect. But what could he do now? There was no way to undo what he had done. And yet what he had done was unfair. Brahma was despaired. What was he to do now? Brahma was thinking hard, and yet the answer eluded him, as he looked at the mass of crystal that lay in front of him. All of a sudden, Brahma moved towards the crystal. He picked up the crystal in his hands, and looked at it glowing away. Suddenly, he yanked his hair out and wrapped it around the crystal and channeled energy through his hands. There was suddenly a lot of energy glowing around the crystal, and the crystal started to become fluid. There was a lot of agitation in the crystal. Its solid mass started to melt away, as the crystal even began to become light and transparent.

The crystal tore open, and out came a butterfly. It was the most beautiful creation Brahma had made. It moved him so much that he was moved. Tears of joy flowed from his eyes as the butterfly flitted around, flying around, soaking the afternoon sun. Brahma was happy.

“I could not reverse what I had done. But I have decided to give you this extraordinary power. For the last day of your life, you shall become the most beautiful creature anyone will ever get to see. You shall be able to do all that you hoped for, and in turn you shall give back for all that you ate. You shall be responsible for the progeny of these flowers. I bless you thus, o caterpillar, so that you should henceforth be remembered by your beautiful name, butterfly.”

Thus came into existence in this universe the butterfly.