In an unprecedented move, the citizens of Patna, India, have taken their grievances straight to the heavens, petitioning the "Gods of Change" for some much-needed intervention in the city’s never-ending saga of infrastructural despair. Armed with colorful banners, fervent chants, and a rather alarming number of empty tea cups, the residents gathered at Mahatma Gandhi Setu, sharing tales of woe that could make even the most stoic deity shed a tear. "We've tried everything," declared Raju, a local resident. "We've held protests, signed petitions, and even attempted to bribe municipal officials with sweets. Yet, every monsoon feels like a train wreck of floating garbage and washed-out roads. So, we thought, why not ask the divine? Worst case, we get some heavenly sympathy." The gathering, dubbed the "Mortal Manifestation," featured an array of heartfelt performances, including a melodramatic reenactment of last year’s monsoon flooding, complete with inflatable rafts and a very brave dog dressed as a fish. As the actors splashed about, one onlooker remarked, “If the Gods are watching, they probably think we’ve turned into a live B-grade movie. Maybe that's what it takes to get their attention!” Spectators were dazzled by dancers dressed as local politicians, twirling and leaping as they impersonated various bureaucratic inefficiencies, eliciting laughter and applause. “We're all tired of waiting for change,” said Anita, a mother of three, “so we decided a little ridicule might be more effective than sending angry letters to the editor. At least this way, we can entertain ourselves a bit while we keep our call for help going.” Among the cosmic petitions offered were humorous suggestions, such as sending down celestial pothole fillers and divine drainage systems, and a particularly ambitious request for a fountain of youth – just in case anyone needs to look younger while they wait. “I just want to look good when the Gods finally decide to come down and mingle,” said Rajesh, proudly clutching his DIY tinsel-covered prayer box. Despite their playful approach, the mood turned solemn when the discussion turned to the daily struggles faced in the city: traffic jams that last longer than a Bollywood love story, garbage piles rivaling Mount Everest, and water shortages that feel like nature’s own version of a reality show. “If the Gods of Change don’t intervene soon, I think I’ll personally charter a satellite and deliver my complaints straight to them,” mused Suman, who has apparently grown tired of merely addressing earthly authorities. In what some have dubbed a “spiritual intervention,” the crowd concluded with a group chant to the tune of popular Bollywood songs, blending catchy rhythms with demands for better roads and 24/7 electricity. As they sang for change, one brave soul shouted, “Even if we don’t get rain, at least let us rain down some good wishes on this city!” As the sun set over the hopelessly clogged river, Patna’s residents left their makeshift heavenly meeting with a mixture of hope and exasperation. Those wishing the gods would listen and act might return tomorrow— after all, if divine intervention works for our favorite cricketers and actors, why not for the people of Patna, too? And if nothing else, at least they were able to enjoy a good laugh amidst the chaos that is their daily life.