RVFSG
October 31, 2025 on Earth.
It was a breezy, beautiful afternoon in Vaikuntha. The Satyug Recap playlist was playing in the background, nicely chilled panchaamrit by the side; Vishnu was enjoying a lazy, uneventful day. The mild waves of Ksheersagar were lulling him to sleep. Suddenly his phone rang. Annoyed, he grabbed it and answered without checking who was calling.
“It better be important…”
“Prabhu… we gotta hurry. This dude from Mrityulok is beating the crap out of Indra.”
“Do you hear yourself? I had told you no edibles in the court snacks. How can…”
“I’ll explain, sir, but we gotta rush. We can’t afford to lose this Indra or it’ll be a proper political clusterfuck.”
“Arrggh. Alright. Meet me in Indralok in five. And get me someone from Kailash? Thanks.”
Vishnu took a big yawn and stretched out, got up, wore his shoes, chugged the panchamrit, and poof!
At the entrance of Indralok, there was chaos. Everyone gave way to Vishnu, who was looking for Naarad. Suddenly he found Naarad talking to someone at a distance. Vishnu did a quick but sharp whistle. Naarad saw him and ran towards him. They walked in together.
“How did a guy from Mrityulok make it past all the security?”
“Vardaan. Remember the RVFSG Scheme? This is one of the last ones from that.”
“I thought we canceled all of those and erased their memories and stuff?”
“I guess we missed this one. Apparently some sort of insane rage made him unlock his powers.”
They reached the main courtyard where this average-built, bald man with a more salt-less-pepper beard had pinned Indra down. There was a circle of Gods around them, but no one dared to engage. It was unbelievable that he had more strength than anybody around. Clearly a result of some divine blessing.
“I SAID I AM SORRY… OKAY?! PLEASE… LET ME GO!!” begged Indra pinned against the floor as a bunch of Apsaras screamed and held each other in panic.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. You better give me more than that!”
“Hi!” screamed Vishnu. Seeing Vishnu, the man felt a sense of satisfaction that his little adventure had rattled the system enough for the big guns to come down and intervene.
“Good evening… Lord!”
“Good evening… vatsa! What seems to be the problem? You are holding up a lot of important tasks.”
“What? Like incessant rains in the last week of October?”
“What? Wait… is that what this was about?”
Naarad handed him a file. Vishnu gave it a quick read — “Himanshu Dubey, 38, Male, resident of Mumbai, hates rains but bears them through the monsoons because it is part of the world rules. He has not been able to go for photowalks for a while because of the non-stop raining. In a fit of rage, he unlocked his powers to enter any part of heaven once — something he was granted as part of the Random Vardaan For Shits and Giggles program run by the Trinity under the influence of edibles back in 1987. We ensured the program was recalled after everyone got sober by sending out OTA. But a system glitch due to releasing updates only to straight men and women, thanks to old algorithms from the 1980s, left this one out.”
Vishnu took a deep sigh, handed the paper back to Naarad, and slowly started walking towards the man.
“Okay. I get it. I’m sorry you had to come up here. But you can’t enter Indralok or any part of heaven while you’re alive on Earth. Vardaan or no Vardaan, okay? Now. Let’s solve this. What do you want us to do?”
“I want to know what this guy has even been doing while it rains non-stop off-season in Mumbai?”
Vishnu looked at Indra. Indra kept quiet but noticed the firmness in Vishnu’s eyes.
“I was making a reel. Officially. Through the Social Media Department, sir. Just that I wasn’t getting the transition right, so it took longer.”
“Which trend?”
“Saang saang saang Bolenaath! Paus padel kai?” Indra started singing but was immediately interrupted by the man.
“I’M SORRY? DID YOU JUST SAY YOU WERE SHOOTING REELS?? WHILE CITIES DROWN ON EARTH?” screamed the man, tightening his grip.
“EASY! EASY! We do it all the time. Just this time he went over by a minute! …A minute?” Vishnu asked Indra.
“Two minutes.”
“TWO MINUTES! You were late by TWO MINUTES in switching the weather?” screamed Vishnu.
“Two minutes? GUYS! IT HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR A MONTH NOW!” the man interrupted.
“Buddy! Remember Stardew Valley? Remember Time Slippage? Interstellar? Yeah… so one minute here is one lunar cycle on Earth. Okay, so, how about we fix it and move on? Time is money! Chop Chop! WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
“GIVE ME NICE, BEAUTIFUL, DRY, SUNNY DAYS UNTIL NEXT MONSOON! BRING OUT YOUR BEST OF THE CLOUDS. I WANT A MILLION FOLLOWERS PURELY BECAUSE OF MY STREET PHOTOS!”
“Tathastu! Granted! Done! Okay, anything else?” asked Vishnu while gesturing to the Gods slowly approaching the man from behind.
“No. I mean… yeah… can I—” As he was about to say something, he got knocked out by two super-built Gods from behind.
“Holy drops of Somras! WHAT WAS ALL THIS? Install his update right here before he goes down, wipe the memory, and for the love of Dhatūra get me someone from Kailash! I need a full report from the security department on this!”
Suddenly everyone rushed to bring order to the court. Indra got up and walked to Vishnu with his head hanging in shame.
“I want a new set of updates sent out right now to cancel any and every instance of RVFSG, irrespective of their gender, orientation, age, location… whatever! and fire you social media guy. I will get you a new one.”
“Yes, Prabhu! Right away! Do I do the sunny thing? It takes a bit longer rendering time for all the beautiful clouds and blue skies…”
“I mean… it’s already monsoon there now. The dumdum wasted all the sunny time playing WWE with you here. Guess who’s going to have a fun time back on Earth?”
Indra dropped his head in embarrassment and walked away. Everyone else dispersed. Naarad approached Vishnu as they started walking out.
“And the next time something like this happens, CALL KAILASH FIRST!”
Naarad stopped, nodded as Vishnu gave everyone a long, firm glance — then poof!
Himanshu wakes up to the sound of loud thunder. He checks his phone — 3rd June 2026, 09:25AM. He walks up to the window, and the world is dark grey with rains pouring like it is the end of the world. He takes a deep sigh, mentally preparing himself that this nonsense would now go on for the next three months.
He gets a text from Naman:
“Sir, baarish wali photowalk karni hai?”
Himanshu thinks for a second, looks at his Crocs, and replies,
“Chalo! I think I know where to go!”