Critical Reading of Beyond Heaven Beyond Hell By Jernail Singh Anand

 

(Critical Reading by Mauro Montacchiesi)

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Beyond Heaven Beyond Hell is not JUST an epic poem: beyond that, it's a philosophical inquisition staged as verse play, where divinity and humanity alike are compelled to give testimony, along with technology and conscience. Anand builds a cheeky metaphysical architecture where Heaven and Hell are no longer places you go, but states of being, and Earth is the fiercely contested reach between them. The epic posits an extreme thesis: Modern man’s moral crisis surpassed the traditional eschatology, requiring other ethical tools — judiciousness with AI, say — to read the ledger of handiwork.

At the heart of the work lies a brutal dichotomy: good is punished, evil prospers and divine justice seems slow, opaque, even corrupt. Such tension constitutes the dramatic engine of the poem.

Figures such as God, Dharmaraja, Chitragupta, Narad, Craza (the techno-king), and Robertica (the sentient machine) are not ornamental allegorical figures; they are dialectical catalysts through which Anand examines power, obligation and crimes against clear conscience. “ICU of AI” is most striking: a chillingly modern purgatory where conscience is scanned, intention weighed and punishment optimized. Here, speed replaces mercy, efficiency takes the place of mystery — and even the gods get nervous. So be it, kind of: progress goes both ways.

The epic is an artificial form that combines scriptural cadences, dramatic dialogue, chorus and philosophical treatise. The prose is deliberately plain-spoken — sometimes plain-old spoken to the point of bluntness — forgoing florid beauty in service of moral clarity. Such refrains as “Language has been used on an enormous humanity scale to delude the masses” are not poetic metaphors but moral axioms. The power of the epic lies in repetition, accumulation, relentless questioning: Why do people pray yet not act? How is it that the leaders are well and the good are ill? 

How fear triumphs when wisdom loses. Anand refuses such easy comforts; he insists on responsibility.

But a corner is turned when the poet finds himself brought before God, while still alive.

The epic’s social critique is just as unsparing. Religious heads, power brokers and the socalled “Club of the Wise” are revealed as empty holders of delegated authority. Shrines are turned into stages, rituals become form without meaning and wisdom the mask for greed.

When catastrophe at last rouses humanity’s fear, the poem compels its bitterest irony: terror restores faith where conscience had failed. What teaching failed to accomplish, thunder does. That is the verdict, as chilling as it is unforgettable.

Ultimately, Beyond Heaven Beyond Hell claims that there is nothing to look for in Heaven or Hell— both places are already instantiated in human behavior. The epic is a moral seismograph of our times: technologically advanced, ethically beggared — theatrically devout, spiritually adrift. Anand writes with prophetic urgency, not to entertain or please, but to warn. You do not close this book comforted; you close it implicated.