I enter the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Opening the cabinet to grab some sugar, I find a little bottle that has a label that states 'MSG'.

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I have an epiphany. MSG means messenger of God. It's me! I have been chosen as the messenger of God! I hurriedly call my mother and tell her the good news. She is so happy for me that she chokes and disconnects the phone.

That afternoon, as I am driving to the office with my MSG bottle nestled on the seat next to me, I sneeze and the sacred bottle rolls onto my lap.

A sign from God! He does not want me to continue on the same path!

I quickly make a U-turn , reach Infiniti Mall, park my car on the sidewalk, climb on the bonnet and start talking about my miracle.

An hour later, 50 people have gathered around me as I continue my discourse on how I have been chosen as the messenger of God.

A burly man calls out, "What message it is? If you know then madam please tell."

I suddenly realise that though I am the messenger of God, I am not quite sure what his message is, so I quickly improvise, "Put a bowl of fried rice in front of my picture and repeat 'MSG Mata' 26 times. God will whisper the message in your ear."

There is thunderous applause and then it hits me! This is how God wants his message spread. When I get home I will do the same and the message of God will be clear to me as well.

After a short while, I can see people packed together like bees in a bottle. I don't want to break the momentum, but I also need to go to the bathroom rather urgently so I find myself hopping from one leg to the other.In the next five minutes, 300 people start hopping on one leg too and a lady jumps up puts a garland around me and starts hopping on the bonnet as well.

Soon, I have 12 people surrounding me and they seem to be keeping everyone else at bay. I whisper to the lady next to me that I need to go to the bathroom and she makes an announcement, "God wants talking to MSG Mata alone, so we meeting here after 30 minutes."

I am walking into the mall, surrounded by my 12 apostles, when my phone rings and one devotee puts it on speaker mode and answers, "Hello, MSG Mata residence, who is calling?"

I hear the man of the house splutter, "What? Who is this? Where is my wife?"

The devotee replies, "MSG Mata busy. If you want appointment, pay donation Rs2,000 only, early member discount." And puts the phone down.

Finally, I conclude my sermon and after promising my 450 followers that I will be back tomorrow, I head home.

The man of the house is waiting for me and I inform him of this new development in my life; that God himself has chosen me as his messenger.

He looks at me incredulously and says, 'What the hell are you talking about?'

I show him the sacred bottle and explain the wonderful miracle to him. Just like people at sea send messages in bottles, in this teaming ocean filled with human beings, God has also sent me his message via a bottle.

He looks aghast and screeches, 'It is a bottle of Chinese food seasoning, how can it be a miracle?'

I retort, 'Why can't it be? I still remember when it was declared that all holy statues are drinking milk and it's a miracle. Then last week, I heard some baba has rose petals that can cure cancer and that is a miracle too. So, why can't my MSG bottle be a miracle?'

He shakes his head and stalks off. I am beginning to think he is just jealous that God didn't choose him instead of me. Well, finders, keepers...

I start designing a logo for my sect when a red scarf falls on my head and I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't...

7 am: I push the pillow off my face and rub my bleary eyes. What a horrible dream! Must be acid reflux from eating Chinese food last night. All that monosodium glutamate is difficult to digest...