For The Love of God

4 mins read

I woke up one morning to see a pudgy pink naked man sitting on my sofa.

Who are you? I shrieked, loud enough to dislodge a few roaches from the wall cracks.

“Worry not, puny human.” He smiled, a creepy smile.

I looked down at my bloated belly and thunder thighs. Puny? Me?

 I am Cupid.” He struck a pose with his legs placed apart. That stance did not look pretty, especially with love handles and stocky limbs.

“Cupid, the god of love.” He looked miffed I didn’t look excited enough.

I picked a vase and threw it at him. It passed right through.

“Huh?” I sat on the floor feeling woozy. The events of last evening came back to me. My dour shrink had prescribed another pill for my mood swings. “Report back if you have hallucinations.” He had said. He had also rambled on about mindful eating, but I was too exhausted by then to really listen.

The yellow pill. Of course, this must be the side-effect, he mentioned. I looked at the little man with a ridiculous crown on his head resting his jewels (you know which ones) on my velvet cushion. 

What a depraved hallucination I thought as I dialled my doctor’s office. I couldn’t get through.

What do I do now? I had an important meeting at noon and sick leave was out of question. So, I did what I excelled at, ignored the problem.


You know that dream people have, where they report to work without clothes? This was the closest it materialised for me. The naked bandit, aka Cupid followed me throughout the day. I cringed every time I noticed him parading before my staff in his birthday suit. Luckily, my boss mistook my panic for performance anxiety for the next financial quarter and heartily approved.

During the meeting, Cupid happily straddled over a bejewelled horse, the centre piece in the conference room, shooting lecherous glances at my boss. I threw up inside my mouth.

As the meeting concluded, I was famished. This was too stressful. The smell of freshly baked cake beckoned me as I entered the cafeteria.

“Ouch.” A silver arrow pierced deep in my wrist.

“Wasthemaffer?” My boss asked, his mouth full of chips.

“No-nothing. Mosquito.” I rubbed a spot on my wrist. Man, it hurt. I approached the Chinese food counter and heard him load another arrow.

What do you want? I mouthed desperately.

He pointed his bow towards the salad counter. My stomach rolled in protest. I cannot digest salads. Too much fibre. I get cramps.

Cupid aimed lower this time, Oh god no.

I sniffed and scurried to the soup counter. Brought some soup and bread. As my sweet tooth cried sour, I added some fruit.

At around four, I admitted the whole wheat bread had its advantages.  No sugar crashes. Still, I sneaked out for another cup of coffee because I was bored. HE was perched near the coffee machine, his junk touching the coffee cups. Wishing the hot coffee spilled all over his privates, I went back to my seat.

Cupid would not let me take a cab home. Kept poking his arrows at my sides, till I agreed to walk. God it was exhausting.

“No junk food.” He threatened me with his pudgy finger. The guy who delivered my pizza could not get in the building. After two tantrums, I gave in and cooked an oatmeal and gobbled it.

Cursing him galore, I went to sleep. I skipped the darn pill, I had enough Cupidism for the eternity. I even decided to launch a PIL against valentine day to teach him a lesson.


After a night of fitful sleep, I walked into the kitchen next morning humming to myself. No pill, no Cupid, right? Wrong. He was on the sofa smiling like an old foe.

Not knowing what to do, I got dressed and was about to leave the house. Smack. Another arrow, this time at my tummy.

Breakfast, he said.

“I am late. There is nothing here to cook.” I whined.

He sauntered towards me and I caved in like the coward I was.

“Okay, I will buy apples on the way.”


That happened all week. And the next. If I so much as inched towards grease, a well-aimed arrow struck random parts of my body. Every extra swig of coffee cost me a sting on my hind side. Sitting was an agony.

“Why are you torturing me? Aren’t you supposed to be kind and patient?” I asked him and he laughed.

“You got to figure the why’s yourself.” He said, eyeing my dark chocolate piece I sucked as I sulked.


It was time for my fortnightly appointment.

“You look fresh today.” My shrink smiled.

I looked at the mirror.  Apart from terrible headaches from caffeine withdrawal, I did feel good.

On the cue, Cupid appeared beside him. He looked a bit less obese today.

“Why do you look different?” I mouthed.

He rested his elbows on the Shrink’s lap and smiled.  “What do you think?”

“You walk daily, you say? I am happy. A little Self-love never hurt anybody.” My shrink quipped.

Self-love? Hmmm.

I did not tell him about the hallucinations. As I walked back home, things made sense to me, sort of.

So, you came to me to teach me love myself? He smiled. Love always starts from inside, before it conquers the world. He took out the last arrow from his quiver and aimed it at my chest. Somehow, I knew this one was not going to hurt. As the arrow whooshed, I had a sudden vision of a lithe Cupid, with pristine wings and killer looks.

I never saw him again. I turned over a new leaf though. I now try to make healthy choices. At times, my hands itch to open a candy, but then I feel a familiar sting in my wrists.

Its difficult, but it’s worth it. 


Photo Credits: Pixabay

This is an entry for the event #Supernatural #UniK-7 being held at Writers Room | Room8.

Read the event guidelines here: UniK-7 event guidelines

Pre-order ArtoonsInn Books releasing on 07th.
Hawk’s Flight:

Shop for Room9 books here: