Bhramaputra

In his pursuit of absolute freedom, Siddharth Mehta is lured by Krishnamurthy's ghost into seeking a mythical flower, with the promise of becoming God.
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'You're not one of those lazy atheists are you, who murder god only to make a fool of themselves?' Krishnamurthy asks.

'I murdered God to set myself free'.

'And are you? Free?'

'I do whatever the fuck I want, Krishnamurthy - which is far better than God can say, because what he does, is nothing'.

'God is a chemical, you see, and no chemical can do anything without human ingestion. You have a lot of them in your blood right now, but unfortunately, you don't have the right one'.

Laughter among the selves. 'What's the right one?'

'It's found in a flower called the Bhramasutra. It grows in the forest of the devs, in the autonomous region of the natives. If you but inhale its scent, you're granted entry into the land of the immortals, and with the right guidance, you become one of them. Guidance, which I can provide'.

'That's surely some first-class bullshit - even if such a flower exists, can God violate Newton's laws? We are forced to conclude, Krishnamurthy, that you - himself merely a fantasy - are peddling more fantasies'.

'Okay then tell me this: If I am your fantasy, how do I know things you do not? For instance, that my corpse lives underground, sealed in a glass-covered casket. You may go and have a look if you want. In fact, why not? Follow me.'