Archive | October, 2010

My Cruel Wife

22 Oct

My wife is cruel.

First comes the statement all that is left after that are the facts.

So ladies and gentlemen, hear me, as I state on a public platform, my wife is cruel, plain and simple, she is a cruel woman, heartless, coldblooded and pitiless .

And this sudden realization makes me a very nervous man.

Now let me tell you why?

In life people have various hobbies, some collect stamps, some are in love with coins, some fall in love with trivia, some even collect dead butterflies; all kinds of people have all kinds of hobbies.

But guess what my wife’s hobby is?

She collects fools.

Yes, you heard me right, she collects fools.

Nothing intrigues her more than a fool. Where normal people shun the company of fools, she goes out of her way to seek them. You should see her when is with one of that kind, her mouth is wide open, leaning forward so that she doesn’t miss a single word coming out of their mouth, eyes are darting absorbing their every minutest of movement and gesture, waiting for the moment when the magic would happen, like a cat playing with a mouse, watching before she can pounce and capture and imprint it all in her mind. And she is devoted to her pastime. A sane person would not even take their call, or if would see them coming from the other side would change his direction, she on the other hand, defying all logic, calls them, invites them and tries to spend as much time as possible with them. Where sane wallow, she revels.

And she is very democratic in her choice, she collects them all; people with funny voices, weird accents, warped way of looking at life, too serious about life, anyone and everyone who can amaze her and entertain her. There is only one condition, it cannot be normal behavior. Any and every kind of bizarreness; strange, eccentric, weird draws her to the person like moth to fire.

And why does she do it?

Because all these encounters enrich her and give her stories. Did I tell you she is a story-teller?

Yes sir, she is one and a very good one at that. She can relate these stories with lots of gusto and enthusiasm; she has everyone rolling on the floor when she narrates her joyful ludicrous interactions with her ‘friends’. People love her stories.

I used to love them too.

But then one day I was sitting I felt this peculiar sensation, my stomach churned; I rushed to the loo and vomited.

I for the first time knew fear.

All because I asked myself a question; why did she marry me?

And the answer that came back like a catapult jolted me, shocked me, enormity of my position couldn’t escape me.

What more would she want in life than to have a fool around her all the time?

Then I started noticing things, as they truly were, the mask was peeling from the charade.

When I am in the house, I have seen her looking at me, watching me, I used to think that was out of love and affection but now I noticed the strange glint in her eye. One day, I came back home from office, she was sitting with her friends, as soon as I entered, all went quiet and were looking at me with an odd expression, as soon as I stepped out of the room I could hear the peals of laughter resounding behind me, they were giving each other high-fives.

Then I noticed something else I have no idea how that could escape my eye earlier. She normally likes to sit with me and ask me things. But now I noticed, when she asks me something, she always has a pen and a notepad with her and switches on the camcorder. She scribbles furiously, doesn’t utter a word, except sometimes in between to ask me to look towards the camera.

All this very subtle behavior has made me very nervous.

Today when I see her I run away screaming.

Right now, I am hiding in the cupboard and writing all this. I can hear her calling my name, asking me to come out.

So if you are reading this, please save me.

P.S: I will wait here till you come. It’s the second cupboard on your left when you enter the house.


Child is the father of man

20 Oct

Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived in Khayalland two siblings Gambhir and Bala. The siblings were aware of their destiny and knew soon they would be plucked by invisible, unseen hands and they would go to another world.

The siblings though close to each other had different dreams and were very different from each other. Gambhir was beautiful, striking like a Greek God, striding like a Roman General and elegant like a French wine. Bala on the other hand, was weak, not as pretty to look at. When they walked on the streets of Khayalland, Gambhir was the cynosure of everyone’s eyes, while Bala was not even noticed. And all this attention made Gambhir arrogant and ambitious; while Bala regardless of being neglected was a happy child, contend within herself.

But even with his elegance and conceit Gambhir deep within was insecure. His ambition made him feeble and frail. He feared the new world. Gambhir was aware to survive in the new world he would require the patronage of strong and influential, for that world was controlled by the few, a coterie that defined fates and fortunes. Every time someone new, unknown came searching for him he hid in the darkest corners, veiled himself from the searching eyes. If someone even got a glimpse of his beauty, he shrouded himself in a cloak of artifice.

One day, siblings were talking to each other, Bala asked Gambhir that what he wanted to be when he is born. Gambhir said that he wanted to be something, he wanted to change the world, he wanted to be recognized, be known, be popular, someone people respected, people spoke about, people remembered, I want to move and be in the best of circles, have powerful friends.

Then he asked Bala that what she wanted to be. She said that she just wants to be loved. She didn’t want to be with people who had everything; I want to be with those, who still had nothing. Ones who were yet to be find their voice, I want to be with the uneducated and the fresh. I want to be with those who are curious, full of life, those who see the world with fresh eyes, have a spirit of adventure.

As it was to be both of them were plucked by different hands from the Khayalland and they came into being in the Kitaabworld and were separated from each other soon after that . Ghambhir was an immediate sensation, he achieved his desire, the world noticed this precocious child, and he achieved fame, money and everything he aspired for in this world.

Bala on the other hand was relegated to one corner, but she was also happy, she also lived a life of her dreams. She would now and then hear stories about Gambhir, he was winning awards, getting felicitated, his recognition made her proud of him. While Gambhir never ever thought of her, he was immersed in his glory and everything was hidden in the shadows of his towering personality.

Both lived their circle of life.

After years and years, when Gambhir was old and still spoken about but rarely met by the old acquaintances, without any new friends found himself next to Bala. Bala was delighted to see her brother, and greeted him with affection and love. Suddenly both of them heard a commotion around themselves, Einstein, the world’s greatest physicist had come to Kitaabghar. The world was around him, trying to get a glimpse of the great man. Einstein walked the world of Kitaabs, when he came where the brother and sister sat, and he noticed them, sitting there quietly away from the prying eyes, unknown, forgotten by the world. He stopped and turned to everyone and said that is the idea that changed everything for me, made me what I am, opened my mind to the world of knowledge, gave me happiness, opened up the window of curiosity through which I saw the world, differently, with new eyes. Whatever I am today is because of the one who sits there.

Gambhir, looked at Bala, smiled at her with the same old condescension.

Einstein walked towards them, smiled at Bala picked up his childhood friend and hugged her.

What if? So what.

15 Oct

There has been a thought that has been running in mind for some time now and every time I pushed the thought aside because I was not sure how to address it. I used to have certain beliefs about it at some point but with time I started doubting my own opinions, was plagued with contradictions that possibly led to a conflict in my own mind. Reason I was scared even to answer my own question. But then it didn’t help anyone, definitely not me, if I ran away from my own doubts. My answer ultimately was with me and no one better ask a way out of the conundrum than I. So that’s what I did, and these are my thoughts on it.

On the face of it, it’s a simple question, is life to be celebrated or to be feared? If I ask anyone this question, they will think I have probably gone senile in my old age. Of-course it is to be celebrated. Right? Right. No doubt there. But then why is it not? Everywhere I see I find people being scared of life, afraid to live, frightened, indecisive about making choices.

And what are they scared of?

They are scared of something that doesn’t even exist. They fear tomorrow. Why should they be scared of tomorrow? Isn’t life in the moment, moment you are living, moment which is here right now. What can be more meaningful than this moment? Nothing exists beyond this moment, except your conjecture, your assumption.
But fear of life itself is a little more complex than it seems. There is first a physical fear; food, shelter, job, money, career, comforts, luxuries; and insecurity of losing any of these, scale is an individual desire, can make the strongest of the souls jittery. And then there is emotional fear, what if things go wrong? What if I get hurt? What if I hurt others? What if the whole thing becomes a nightmare?
The first fear to an extent is real, and all humanity lives under its shadow. Not something I need to talk or dwell more on, its tragedy is well articulated and understood by all; to lose the chance to be more than what you are.

It’s the other one that interests me, the fear of emotions. Misfortune, which people don’t understand is that not everyone can even afford to have this luxury. Majority of life struggles for the basic physical security, it’s a very minuscule population that can actually indulge to spend time with their emotions, live a life beyond food.

But what do they do? They just let it go.

I just don’t understand why the hell do they let it go?
To look for an analogy with physical security, I work hard, let go of many pleasures today because what I gain is tangible. Tangible that guarantees or assures to an extent for a securer tomorrow. But there is no such guarantee if one tries seeking an emotional security for the future. Is there anything like emotional security, in the first place?
That’s when I had my moment of epiphany, there is nothing called emotional future, there is only an emotional present.
It makes no sense to lose something beautiful today for nothing.

Yet people do.

Let’s assume people are right. It is wiser to seek emotional security and if the possibility of being wrecked exists it should wiser to let go. And they are right because they have already fucked up their today. Forget tomorrow, they don’t even have a today. The assumed misery of tomorrow has made your today even worse than that; ugly, reeking stink.

My beliefs today are to stay with today. I would never lose the moment.

My response now to the question, what if is simple, I say so what.
Because I have a question of my own-

What if not? Then what?

For, you soothsayers of doom, there is also a possibility of a beautiful tomorrow.

You may be willing not to dream that dream, I still would.