The Male in Minority

I haven’t felt more threatened ever before. The gay man with the whip and all his maidens surrounding me. I think i have reached a tea party where everyone is dressed up in pink, drinking tea and asking each other if they would like one cube of sugar or two. There is this desire to run, to chase, to be in the company of the silence venturing into the oblivion. Maybe I am a social animal, one who can’t be with everyone. The feminism present in this room can be cut with a knife. I think I’m suffocating in it. They seem to be standing in a military position, ready to strike on the first instruction. This nightmare will end, later than sooner though. Giggles all around, compliments, whispers in the air, flowing locks, gold earrings flashing in my eyes. My hands are cold even though I sit in this room. I think its the effect of the stares, the slow fall of the smile after the crane of the neck, there is no friend here, there is no comrade, only the end will be me running my fingernails down my keyboard. There were a few sane ones at first, while the others had all gone stark raving mad, but now they all seem to have gone on to the dark side. There are some like me who feel the same, but they lie quiet, zombified, mute to what was happening around them. It is only a matter of time before their balls drop and I see them wearing lipstick and putting on their maskara. I can see the horns coming out from the back of their heads. I don’t think I will be able to see the sun today. The darkness would have settled over by then. All I can do is run, far and straight, away from this madness, away from this madness.

Sheepa

I looked out at her among the millions of faces I had seen in the crowds.

This is how each story began. I saw her smile from a distance and wondered how such a person could have been created who could capture your heart with one smile flex in her muscles. There was an air about her, she had looked into my eyes the first time I saw her and I knew that such a life did not exist on this planet that could reciprocate the attention that I had just received from her. It felt like that it was my birthday and I was being asked to stand in front of a candle and blow out the last one. You are always asked to wish over the last one but you never know what you are going to wish for. You wish for a house, a rich life, a kind and loving wife but all this you tend to get or well at least 'assume' to get. However, when I stared into her eyes, I did not wish to change anything that had happened in the past not predict anything for the future. There was just now and all I wanted was to be with her, now and forever. I was never a confident talker and I still am not. Girls would rather choose the bad and more notorious guys rather than the good ones who always look out for you. That's the the way the world goes. You might be the most kindest of persons and be called the nicest guy in the world but under the dark lights and the influence of the one odd drink, you will be pushed and shoved to the corner where parasites will come and cover your body to suck out all the love that you possess within your heart. Beware of this syndrome I tell you now for you can't be the one standing next to a pillar staring at the life that you could have had instead of realizing that the best thing to do at this point in time was to move on. Sometimes it hurts, there is a drop in the atmospheric pressure when you think of the consequences as if you are sitting on a swing and each oscillation makes your stomach take a turn. Don't worry about them, they will soon subside and you will realize that true happiness lies within yourself. But before I am to make conclusions based upon my opinions, I come back to her. She was not a face in the crowd anymore, her eyes had come across mine several times and we had conversed several times through our thoughts.

I was not a person who would begin a conversation as I stood in the dark, waiting for the right song to come and move my hips to it. I would want a calm and serene surrounding where I could let my mind be my controller and initiate a conversation that made more sense than senseless drunken talk. There seemed to be a lot more that we shared apart from the contact that we had made among out eyes. That night, there was nothing much that I could have done as I was just another face who had sprung up from the sea of unknowns but for some reason, there was something about me that had stuck to be on her mind. I was not to know what it was as I had never wished to know about it but soon after, I was in her presence yet again. I look at her hair as the wind blew it slightly across her shoulder and settled it behind. I looked into her eyes again and I saw the same look that had attracted my attention in the first place. I was struck, there was no feeling that could have described this in a better way for it was moment that had lasted for less than a moment but could have been described in umpteenth number of ways. The feeling had lasted as short as the time it takes for a moth to drive into a driving fan and be knocked out of wits, it was pure magic. I had asked her what was it that had made her eyes widen and her smile broaden but she would not tell me. She would rather blush and keep her secret to herself. I would never know the answer but I would hope that I had something to do with it.

Months had passed and we had exchanged our glances far too often. There had been crazy encounters and incidents that could be put down in books to be the least most exciting but there was nothing more that could have been brought of this. As she peeked through the leaves of the plant that grew at her balcony, she had a question in her eyes. There stood a dilemma that had not existed initially but now had sprung up owing to our association. I did not care much about the what and the where as I was always about the here and the now but owing to the world, there needed to be an answer. Somewhere far away, a volcano was on teh brink of erupting but had chosen to take its vow of silence owing to the state that I was in. I chose to stay quiet, I did not know an answer and I had hoped that she would one day come up to me and say that "It was ok" but that was what fairy tales were made of. Fairies did not exist and nor did their tales.

Her eyes had done the trick once again, taken me into a world that I had imagined and admired but at the same time, disconnected from the reality that I swam through. I was only a novice who had just realized the importance of being a schmuck but I was too naive to take up the responsibility. I wanted to stay in the depth of her eyes, swim in them, touch each point and dive deep into the trenches to know what lay beyond my understanding. But before I knew it, I was back in the shallow waters, for it was where I belonged, owing to my ideologies and inhibitions.

She moved on, she buried the hatched and along with it, me. I was nothing more than a mark on the dirt next to the road. I was the stick that one would see on the way as they sped on the highway and come back to the reality of the speedometer. I was a roll down the window and soon a breath of fresh air. I could have swum in those eyes forever, I could have stared at them till the meteor struck our planet but I was six feet under. This is where I belonged, I was an element, a piece of dirt and all that kept me from becoming one with earth was you.

Forgive me for my ignorance.

Ass-u-me

8pm, flight from Mumbai to Kolkata. The take off has just taken place and we are hovering in the sky like a feeble bird trying to stay stable in a gale. Things seem to be shaking from time to time and as for the fear of death, it's not there anymore. If
It must happen it must, there is no stopping it unless put onto the spot. All of a sudden, a crackle comes across the speakers as the captain says "we have a guest on board" and then pauses. I thought there is some celebrity who would like to entertain us on the momentous occasion of Eid, I could only imagine a film star popping out of his seat, dancing on a number or two, kissing babies on their forehead and giving autographs on ladies' breasts. But before I could carry my imagination any further, the captain let's out the rest of his dialogue "who is in need of medical assistance, is there anyone on board with medical background ?".

My pupils dilated as if somebody had used them as a trampoline, from being wide and full, they shrunk to the size of a full stop. I heard the rest of the passengers on the plane crane their neck over their seats to see what the drama was all about. They were probably missing their favorite serial on the flight so this story might be one for the kitty parties and the poker nights. At the back of the plane was an air hostess who seemed to have lost consciousness and was being carried by her colleagues. She had been made to lie down while they looked at us with desperation, but not a soul moved, all could been seen were their eyes looking back at them, anticipating, expecting but not delivering. But then I saw a man with grey hair get up from his seat with an air of confidence, I could notice the outline of his stethoscope in the pocket of his jacket and this was his moment to shine.

He had been sitting in his dilapidated clinic in the gutters of the city, tending to pregnant teenagers and children faking their sickness to skip school. The money was measly, the hours were boring and life seemed to be just treading downhill with each passing day. But now, was not the time for making ends meet, he had been called for and he would serve. He started walking towards the air hostess and noticing him she went up to him with an air of anticipation in her eyes as she asked "are you the doctor ?", the man nodded his head and said something that sounded like "Can I see the patient ?" The look on her eyes changed drastically to that of disappointment as she asked him to sit down on his seat. What had happened ? Was he a veterinarian ? Was his breath too stinky ? Apparently it was neither, the question that he had asked was "can I use the toilet ?" So much for his moment to shine and serve. The old fart wanted to go for a tinkle while somebody was probably boarding the stairway to heaven.

It was one thing embracing death in times of peril but would I let somebody else die while I continue living ? I was no doctor nor a medical practitioner, hell my mother told me I was not man enough to study biology. But there seemed to be nobody to help and the only thing I was good at was being a hero. But what was I going to do ? Hold their hand and tell them it was ok ? I had no answer but the situation at hand seemed to have improved. Someone had shown up and tended to the lady, things were under control. This plane was not going to be hearse after all. I heaved a sigh of relief as I got up from my seat, went towards the seat where the hostess was lying, passed her by and opened to door to the toilet. Order had now been restored.

Risk

It's about not looking back twice.

Bringing the best of options to your head won't make any difference because every time you think it out, there will always be a different way out, a safer way out.

But that's not how things are meant to be.
A time comes in one's life (don't say it doesn't for you, because then you're just a wuss) when a choice has to be made:
1. Get busy living and then get busy dying.
2. Stop worrying about living and dying.
3. Live today, when dying comes, we will think about it.

Option 1
It's the fear of winding up on the streets, living in old beaten up houses and driving a two wheeler to office is the fear that envelopes us in this invisible straight-jacket of security and peace that denies us the possibility of exploring. Well, yes your wife and children will be able to buy their favorite clothes during the holiday season and you will retire as a grandfather with 2 properties to your name and be able to watch the latest soap operas on your new 42 inch television.

Option 2
You see, this whole business of life and death is bullshit, its all about karma and how your actions make up for your consequences. You sit in rooms smelling of smoke and mould and worry about the corruption of man and how he has created an infinite black hole of evil deeds from which there is no escaping. People worry about God instead and where he keeps his sack of gold to shower on his subjects. Money is no object, we are free souls brought to this Earth for one sole purpose, to spread love and happiness. We are living in a mechanical society where we are controlled by individuals and it is our job to break free from these shackles. One would love to live this theory, just because its well, simple.

Option 3
Risk. Its all about taking that leap of faith between your reality and your conviction. Not all who take the leap make it, you may lose your job, you may end up being divorced, fat, living off your parents, writing stories that no one wants to listen. But you may not. Its as simple as asking out a girl. You know you want her, you don't know what she wants but you will never know till you ask her. You may do your stupid little research and survey about what others think about the proposition, you may even give her hints and what not but until and unless you make that move, you will never ever know. And before you know it, she's gone. And then you have a drunken tale to tell about 'The one that got away'. Grow up. Take that chance and you just might have the best story to tell in your life (I'd suggest not to go for long distance).
Just ask yourself : "Whats the worst that could happen ?"

So at the end of the day, the only piece of advice is - GO FOR A RUN

Run today while you have the legs because tomorrow, you will run out of them.

A Stroll

One needs to take an exodus from the four walls of livelihood and head out towards the far reaches of the earth. Discover what fruits she has to offer, the souls one might not have touched, the sights one is left to see so that one day, on your deathbed, you don't have to lie without a story to tell your kith and kin about how you have lived life to the fullest and need to move on.

And so I head out into the vast outside with puffed up lungs and a stride in my step.
For a noble cause I head into the unknown, for a mission I take this path alone.

Six eggs and a loaf of bread and not to forget a half a dozen bananas from the local market.

The evening has set and the games at twilight have begun, the stars have taken the stances and are taking a power nap before their shining begins for the long and tedious night. The moons seems to be hidden today, probably touching up its face.

I may not have walked more than a yard when under my feet comes the rubble on the road, there's rubble everywhere. I stare up at the towering houses and wonder why man always looks to rise up high but forgets the land from where he comes. I shake my sandals to get rid off the dirt invading my space with a word or two under my breath. Staring into these houses I look at the cheap halogen lamps giving off their dull glare outside. No matter how grand their houses may be from the outside, inside they will always live as beggars, ensuring that their electricity bills never go beyond the danger mark.

Hunger taps me on the shoulder as the prospect of food from the market that may satisfy my pangs for delicacies from the netherworld. However, owing to the elastic waistline of my pyjamas, I choose to not let it defeat me and take a vow to have nothing doing with the processed food industry. I have dreamt of days when I will be able to tell tales of how I defeated the sin of guilty pleasure and maybe then I shall quote this moment of my triumph. When I went to the market to buy eggs and bread (not to forget the bananas) and said NO to the prospects of a chips packet or a chicken patty or one of those round crunchy twirls that... mmmmm.

A growl interrupted my train of thought and for a moment I thought a stray dog was after my crotch again. To my relief it was only my stomach that growled in disappointment of being faced with such abuse. On reaching the market I decided to reward myself with a chewing gum (sugar free) just so that my teeth get something to chew on. You never know, chewing just might help me with my jaw line and make it dashing enough for the ladies.

As I asked the shopkeeper to hand me the eggs, bread and bananas, the whiff of the guava reached my nose and I stared at the stack that stood before me, seated like pompous Romans, full of pride and peacock meat,like an audience waiting for the Tiger to be released at the colosseum. The shopkeeper caught me staring and with the proposition of making an extra buck, told me there was no spare cash and asked if there was anything else I wanted. The Romans looked at me for approval but I held out my thumb to give the final verdict, ye or nay. And much to the horror of the Romans (and the bewilderment of the lady buying her coconuts for her deceased rich husband's exit), I plunged my thumb downwards and said "nay".

On leaving the market, I chewed the gum with a much harder intent to make sure I didn't change my mind.
Nearing the house which looked the same as I had left it, I was approached by a dog.

I covered myself with the eggs (nothing harder than 6 eggs to save you from the worst of attacks) but the poor mutt was only hungry. Its wagging tail soon descended into an immobile vine as it understood the possibilities of its evening supper.
And back I was home again with yet another adventure under my non-existent belt.

Till the winds call me again
Or we run out of any grain
I will rest beside the fireplace
Or the gas stove near my face
But when adventure calls hark
I will venture in the dark
For a skirmish with a beast
Or to buy some white meat
But I will return to tell the tale
Of how much I saved, in the sale.

Lost gold

Under the stars, on the grass
Lies sprawled a story untold
Whose ghosts are now but free
to haunt the skies and the seas
It began with many
But ended with only one.
Who went in search for gold
In exchange, for their souls.
In the combed fields of savannah
These friends had sworn
That in the light of dawn,
They would abandon all
Carry their keys of freedom
To the netherworld of darkness
Where the key shall be lost
But all for a mere cost
To walk on clouds of dreams
As they tied up the loose seams.
It was a legend to some others
And a curse to some.
That none ever cared for
For they sowed the seeds
And ploughed their fields
Till their bones returned
To the soil and to the earth.
But ours was not a fate
left to chance, they said.
As they stepped through caves
And jumped over bridges
To leave behind their dust
Back in their cradles
The lure for that heaven
That holy grail.
Brought them to meet
The man with the hood
And the sickle estranged
Who followed them closely
To redeem the debt
That all men paid
As events unforeseen
Unfolded in front of their eyes
Witness to them were the horrors
Of man and animal alike
As friends broke ties
And swore blood on their sleeves
None could win over the other
Hence all succumbed
To each other’s wounds.
And as the last one
Lay on the grass
With seconds of life
In his grasp
He recalled his mother
As she held him with tears
While he looked up at her
And took her hand, one last time
And then he saw a glimmer
In his palm, lay the gold
That none ever had found.

A minute in darkness

I opened my eyes to the world around me. A world that had colours, shapes, sizes, feelings, loss, passion and so many elements that drove our minds and raced our hearts. But the world that stood before my eyes was of a much lesser composition. It felt simple, it felt neat, it felt new.

All that I could identify was one colour. Black. I was seated in darkness and completely unaware and hidden in the oblivion of space. As I felt the wind from the fan brush my face, I let my eyes try to identify the slightest bits of light that my eyes could fathom to. At a distance, I saw the light from the sodium lamp creep in through my window and illuminate my old and broken record player. An antique that had once played classics and given many a reason to bring in a wave of volatility and an eruption of emotions. But it stood silent today and maybe it will tomorrow as well.

I embraced the silence as I made shapes in the air with my hands and performed actions like a mime would. I could swim in this sea of nothing where all was back to square one, a blank sheet that should have been left blank. I carefully listened to the sound of air entering and leaving me. Not many of those breaths have been noticed, I might as well hear them now before I give out my last.

An ascending tune catches my attention as I listen with intent, knowing well in my world what that sound stood for. It was the call for an attack, a battle cry and I was ready to face my assailant. With a swift move with my fist, I grasped the air and immediately dragged my fingers across my palm. Hoping to feel the carcass of the vector but alas I had missed. But there was no shame in leaving a battle unfinished, maybe there was pride in letting your life finish last.

The darkness seemed to have befriended me and wanted me to stay but my time was up, it was the hour for me to go.
My minute was over. Not the best of minutes, I confess.
But who leaves the last as not the least.