A child's story

Raj didn’t have the courage to do it. Kim would be waiting at his brother’s house, clueless about why his aunt was there to pick him up after school that day. Raj could only hope that Kim was thinking more about being separated from the toy car that the kindergarten school had bought recently. Raj wondered if the toy car was the only thing that Kim liked about his kindergarten school. He remembered the kind of trouble that he and Helen had to go through when they dropped Kim at the school on his first day. He never knew a little child was capable of creating so much noise. It seemed insane to him that a child’s idea of spending five hours away from his parents was so horrendous. He remembered how he had jokingly said to Helen when they were back in the car that Kim was probably a retard. Even though he pretended to be joking, a small part of his heart did really believe that Kim was a retard. He had never seen a child cry as crazily as that before. Now that he thought of it, Raj felt like he had made the joke hoping that Helen’s shocking expression would convince him how wrong his heart was. But Helen had no reaction to the joke. She was depressed. Raj remembered thinking in his head that Helen too had no idea about how long five hours really was. He had suppressed the urge to say that both mother and son were retards and laugh about it. But he had kept the joke to himself and laughed only inside his head. It was not the time to make a joke in front of Helen. She really was depressed.

Every single day since then had turned out to be the same. Helen’s morning was spent getting a wet-eyed kid ready for school. Raj knew that Kim was more attached to Helen. He could hear Kim speaking softly to her in the kitchen, crying and asking her not to drop him off at school. Raj knew that Kim would never show the same kind of weakness in front of him. And he liked it that way. Through his experiences in life, Raj had supposedly figured out the secret behind successful parenting. He had learnt to adapt the ‘good cop, bad cop’ technique to the ‘good parent, bad parent’ approach towards parenting. He had even told Helen about it. It made perfect sense to him. The child always has one parent to go to for all kinds of things to share and to ask for good advice as a friend, whereas a bad parent would come in handy to help bring the child back on track if he or she deviates. Helen, eight months pregnant with Kim then, had nodded her head and promised Raj that he would be in deep trouble if he ‘ever laid one finger on her precious little jewel’. Raj had escaped by pretending to be joking, like he so often used to. But inside, he had decided to be the strict parent, with or without Helen’s consent.

And there sat Kim on his baby chair around the table every morning. With tears in eyes, trying his best to hide his sorrow about going to school from his father, Kim was a disaster. His dark oily skin and neatly set hair always played along with the look of being sad. The big black eyes just made it more difficult to hide the sorrow. Every now and then, a tear would try to race down his swollen cheeks. Before it could reach his chin, it always got cut off by his hand, too short for the sweater sleeve covering it. Helen had gotten used to her child throwing the same tantrum every morning. Raj, on the other hand, found this entire episode quite amusing. So much that he would actually look forward to Kim’s new ways of hiding his tears every day.

About a month had passed since Kim started attending kindergarten when the school had fortunately decided to buy a new toy car. For Kim, it became his best friend. The first thing, and the only thing, that he spent time with at kindergarten, was the toy car. It was a red coloured small version of a convertible with place for kids to sit in and pedal around. Kim absolutely enjoyed sitting in it. He rarely pedaled though. For him, it was just about sitting in the car and holding the wheel. When some other child borrowed the car, Kim would never take his eyes off it. The staff was more than happy to let Kim spend most of his time with the car, because it was nearly impossible to calm him down once he started crying. Kim was never scared to cry in front of the kindergarten staff. For him, they were nature’s chosen victims to face the wrath of his suppressed frustration at home every morning. The toy car was their method of keeping the little animal engaged. And it came as a boon to Helen too. The tears were no longer there, and a happy little Kim went to school every day. Helen was always full of joy to see her child come out of the school smiling, racing towards her every afternoon and hugging her tightly. She was glad that the car had only replaced her child’s depression, but not his affection towards her. They took the bus back every day. Raj was disappointed because he had nothing amusing to look at every morning. Even though he wanted to, he never found the time to accompany Helen and Kim back from school every afternoon because his office was quite far. Kim was sometimes asleep by the time Raj got back home from work, and it sometimes made Raj feel bad. But he never thought too much about it.

Lost in these memories, Raj was interrupted by the doctor. She told him that Helen’s lower spine was badly hurt and they had to run a few more tests before they decided to operate. They had given her an anesthetic. Raj just stood there, still struggling to bring himself to the present from the past. After figuring out what the doctor had just said, he just nodded and sat back on his chair. Raj’s brother was on his way to the hospital, accompanied with all their family and friends who wanted to know what had happened.

Raj had always relied on his brother during times when he needed emotional support. When he had received the call from the hospital about Helen being hit by a car on her way to the bus station, the first person he called was his brother. Always a thoughtful and considerate person, Raj’s brother arranged for everything to get done, including having his wife pick up Kim from school. Sitting in the hospital, Raj knew that he needed some support from his family and couldn’t wait for them to arrive. But he dreaded seeing Kim. Raj had always been very objective about life and death. He sometimes used to contemplate losing a loved one, and he was pretty sure that he was strong enough to face it because his rationality would come to his rescue. Now that he was actually in the situation, he could have easily walked to the doctor and ask her the single most important question – would she live? But the more he thought about doing it, the weaker he felt because a horrible realization had just dawned on him. He was thinking about Kim. Helen was the only reason why Kim saw sense in opening his eyes every morning. She was his world. And he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to be what Helen was to Kim, even though he loved him just as much. Raj felt weak and powerless, and then he felt fear after so many years – fear for his son’s belief in happiness and hope. Raj found himself wishing that he could go back in time, and develop a stronger bond with Kim. He didn’t want Kim to be lost because of losing a mother, because he still had a father who loved him just as much. Kim perhaps didn’t even know the meaning of death, but he would never be the same ever if he didn’t see his mother every day. It was getting too much for Raj to handle. He was silently praying to God to take care of his child, when he saw his brother along with the rest of the family.

Kim sat on the chair his aunt pointed out for him, still dressed in his school uniform with the long-sleeved sweater. He had been to a hospital before and he remembered his mother had told him to maintain absolute silence at hospitals. He looked around and saw his father, surrounded with family. He looked different to him than usual. Somehow he felt like his father didn’t know that he was sitting there, because not once did he look at him. Kim was hoping to see his mother at the hospital. He wanted to ask his aunt where his mother was, but he remembered his aunt asking him to be seated in the chair no matter what. Raj had been gathering courage all this time and finally decided to talk to Kim. It was going to be his one shot to make Kim believe in him as one loving parent. This was the cliff. Beyond this point, they were both going to fall into depression, and he didn’t want Kim to feel lonely. He wanted to let his son know that his father was still there to love him as much as his mother did, before he told him about his mother’s accident. He walked up to Kim and sat on the chair beside him. He looked at Kim and even though he had looked into those eyes so many times, only now did he realize that Kim had Helen’s eyes. And that made him think about Helen, not just as Kim’s mother, but as his own soul-mate. And that’s when he realized how much he was missing Helen. If the worst happened, he didn’t know what life was without Helen, the person who had loved him since high school. She had supported him for his entire life, and Raj owed a lot of his happiness to her. Raj tried his best not to fall prey to memories again. His son was looking at him, expecting an answer. He couldn’t fail him. He couldn’t act weak right now. He finally told Kim that his mother was hurt and that she would be taking rest for a few weeks before Kim could see her again. That was the best Raj could come up with because he was fighting hard to hold back his tears now. Kim didn’t seem to understand and just continued staring at his father. Raj was losing control over his emotions. He looked at Kim again, and that did it. Tears collected in Raj’s eyes, just like they used to in Kim’s eyes every morning. They raced down as soon as Raj closed his eyes. But they didn’t make it to the end, for they were all cut off by a sweater sleeve, which was getting pretty good at wiping tears. Kim wiped his father’s tears, without caring that this was the first time he was seeing his father cry. Raj realized that it wasn’t just the eyes that Kim had inherited from Helen.

Of all the things that Kim could ask his father about, he asked him if he had seen the toy car in his school. Raj hadn’t actually seen the car, but just heard of it from Helen. He asked Kim to tell him about it. And for the first time in his life, he saw Kim’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he was about to describe to his father the greatest thing he knew of in this world. Listening to Kim, Raj realized that it wasn’t Kim who needed to be protected. Kim would probably be the one to protect both of them from losing hope in life. The little red toy car, a simple thing made by someone looking to make money, had become the most important thing in Kim’s life. Raj was happy to know that Kim knew and cared about the fact that his father loved him too. He wondered if children were closer to living life the way it should be lived than all adults. All his life, Raj was taught how not to be himself. And now looking at his own child, he began to wonder if he had wasted time learning things in life which wouldn’t even come to his rescue when they should. His child, who was in kindergarten, knew better about dealing with it. If he was discussing this with Helen, he would probably make another joke and say that it was perhaps not that bad to be a retard. After all, when has intelligence ever stopped men from doing stupid things.

Over the years, the bond between Raj and Kim grew stronger. They both now shared Raj’s secret. They knew how he had lost to life’s game and given up when Kim had dragged him back into the field, using his sweater sleeve. Sitting at the breakfast table, two years after the incident, Raj makes it a point to kiss Helen and Kim before leaving every day. He wants Helen to think that he does that to express his love. But Kim secretly knows that he does it, because he needs it.

Love and the Gorilla

I couldn’t stand it anymore. The emptiness of my existence was becoming clearer to me every day. Yes I was earning a decent living with my old job but I wanted more, especially in the so called ‘job satisfaction’ department. To make things clear right away, let me introduce myself. It doesn’t matter what my real name is. I am mostly referred to as the ‘cartoon’ by kids at the mall, where I dress as a “cartoon” by wearing a fluffy suit and jumping around entertaining people. One of the reasons why my life had become pathetic was because I had a professional identity crisis. They could have made the suit of any well-known cartoon and given it to me. At least kids would then refer to me by that cartoon name. But the mall management didn’t want to take any risks with the trademark issues and so, I was not made to look like any normal cartoon. I was just “the cartoon”. I would sometimes stand in front of the mirror for half an hour trying to figure out what exactly I was, and my closest guess was that I looked somewhat like a gorilla – a pink one!

Initially, around ten years ago, I found it to be an interesting job. I got to study people and their behaviours around a pink cartoon gorilla, tall and hefty and fluffy. There were two feelings that people got when they saw a giant cartoon like me – fear OR cheer. And then it all got saturated, in the sense that there was nothing much to it. That’s all the insight that I got in my ten years of career as a giant gorilla. There was no talent training and career growth and human resources and other similar myths that people count on. There was nothing - just plain old work and money. No drama, no action, nothing. I didn’t even have a life. I thought I did. But then I went through a divorce. She thought that I lacked the patience to hear her out and that I was no longer the sweet gorilla that she had fallen in love with at the mall. We had a painful time fighting and finally, when I made a comment which ironically compared her and her family to gorillas, she left. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Ever since the divorce, she made it a point to come to the mall once every weekend with her friends to have a good time right in front of me. I also found from a mutual friend that she was seen with a man on a date. She dismissed it saying that he was just an “old friend” of hers.

I went through trauma after the divorce. I thought of the life of a joker, who would have to keep smiling to perform even after going through a tragedy. I didn’t have to be that way though. I could simply cry inside the suit, and the gorilla would still smile and spread cheer and, in some cases, fear. I cried and cried inside my cave and it seemed to be like an eternity there. I slowly grew into the suit, never wanting to come out of it, never wanting to see the real world, never wanting the world to see me. My mother would visit me sometimes and I would be sleeping, inside the suit. Only she, who had seen me in my purest form since I was born, had the right to see me without the suit again. This continued, for a very long time. I had lost purpose, and my job wasn’t helping. The emptiness of existence took over me and I didn’t find a single argument from my mind strong enough as a reason to live anymore. And then I decided to let go. I hoped that the next life that I would get, if any, be a better one. If not better, I wished to at least be reincarnated as a real giant gorilla of the jungles which enters a city, tearing everything apart in its way – houses, gardens, roads, “old friends”…….

And then, “the incident” happened.

Being the self-centered person that I am, I wanted a lot of attention to be paid to my suicide. “The end of the age of the pink gorilla”, I imagined the next day’s headlines to read. I would attract the most attention by doing it right in front of everyone, especially in front of my ex. I decided to find the most appropriate route to put my master plan of my demise into action. I needed a solution in which I could make a final statement to my ex and then announce my death before killing myself. I thus needed a way where nobody could stop me if they suspected something. And then it struck me. I came up with the most dramatic demise. I would go to the top floor of the mall, which is mostly abandoned. The mall has a hollow rectangular shape. The shops on three floors are aligned with the four edge walls, with corridors running along the perimeter, while the central part of the mall is open to direct sunlight, with a glass roof on the very top of the building. So I decided that I should stand on the railings of one of the four corridors of the top floor and right when my ex enters the mall, I would make my statements while she is looking up at me and then I would jump off, to fall right in front of her, dead. I precisely estimated that the mall wasn’t very tall for my sound to not reach her on the ground floor. But it was tall enough to kill a person.

And finally the weekend arrived. I met all my loved ones and without their knowledge, hid some letters in their houses, which they would find later. It would hurt them terribly, but indifference toward them would be even more painful for them. All the calculations were made. I went to the mall. I looked at my suit - my shelter, my life. I had grown so attached to it that the fear of death did nothing to scare me but a separation from my suit gave me a chill. The suit defined me. It had seen the real me, my suffering, my happiness, my life. And I decided to put it on. The dramatic person that I have always been, I walked to the mirror, touched the suit with my hand, which was also inside the suit and I said, “It’s been an honour”. Little did I know that a janitor had seen this and would later report it to the police.

I pushed myself upstairs and waited there. And she finally turned up. The moment I saw her I sprang into action. I climbed on the railing. A huge pink coloured gorilla standing on the railing so dangerously was not easy to miss. People suddenly began to turn their heads upwards and the gasps started echoing, until finally it reached her, and she looked up. Half of my efforts paid off when I saw her expression. Everything was mixed – fear, care, love, awe and to my satisfaction, a little bit of guilt. And I looked back at her. It was as if the suit didn’t even exist. We shared our last moment on this good Earth, with a look at each other. That look said much more than what we had said to each other in our years together. A tear trickled down my eye. It was time. I shouted, “FOR YOU, MY LOVE”, and I knew everyone had heard it. It was terrible that the suit maintained its smiling face through this emotional exchange.

And then I let go, and jumped off. Gravity was stronger than what I thought it was. I closed my eyes to see the white light, lying there in my suit, waiting for the agony to start. I hit the floor, before I expected. I braced myself for the pain of death. But it didn’t come, yet. The suit compressed, and the next moment, I was launched back like a kid on a bungee! I opened my eyes again to see what happened, and to my shock, I saw that I was moving up. I came till the second floor and was clearly able to see the people looking at me, more shocked than ever. And I fell down back again. And was launched up again, this time to a lower height! The disbelief and gravity were working their way into my head, and finally I passed out.
I woke up in a hospital, not a single scratch on my body. The fluffy gorilla suit had been too fluffy and had acted like it was supposed to, bouncing me back into the air every time I hit the ground. They told me I bounced twelve times until I finally came to a halt, and that I covered the entire floor area of the mall. My ex was in the same hospital, for she was going through trauma. I couldn’t believe it initially. But I accepted it. The cartoon had saved me, by taking me on a bumpy ride.

Life changed after that, forever. Nothing looked same anymore. I was put under home arrest for two weeks, with a psychologist visiting me every day. The letters that I had written to my loved ones, in the hope that they would provide solace to their grief after I was gone, were recovered soon and it was decided that I had a mental problem and it wasn’t safe for my own sake to be kept anywhere alone. It was decided to move me to a mental asylum. The newspapers were crazily behind the story. They wouldn’t have cared so much had I passed on. I was the infamous star of the new era. They referred to me as “the crazy gorilla-man who was planning on bouncing to death”. The janitor found his way to the police and reported what the newspapers published as “gorilla man was seen talking to himself in the men’s room before ‘the incident’ and mumbling non-sense.”

Frankly speaking, I really didn’t care about all of that, for I had found something greater in life. In the face of death, I had seen that the emptiness of my existence was simply my failure to see the bright side of my life. When I bounced back up for the first time till the second floor, I saw in people’s eyes two things at the same time – fear AND cheer. And I realised my failure right there and then. I had failed to appreciate the depth of these two simple feelings. At that moment, I wished for nothing more than to be able to see the people entering the mall again, through my suit. Indifferent when they enter, I gave them either cheer or fear. And, in the face of death, I realised that I was not an unaccomplished person. I invoked feelings in people and that, by definition, made me an artist – comparable to any other artist who ever walked on this planet. And I realised that right there, at that moment, when I bounced back in the air, was the performance of a lifetime. I wanted nothing more than to just go back to my life, my job, and explore more of these feelings. I am a real artist, Mr. Joy. And now, I have got another chance to live a fulfilling life. But I am unable to begin it without making amends. I, through my acts, have brought a lot of sadness to my ex and you. I would want to ask for nothing more than forgiveness. But I have something more to ask for. I want you to cherish the time that you spend with her. You will find nothing more pleasing in this world than to see her happy. Take it from me.

Also, Mr. Joy, don’t think of her referring to you as her “old friend” a fallacy on your part. It was rather her method of preventing me from doing something stupid because of our divorce. I think we will both agree, along with the entire nation, that the method didn’t work.

Yours most affectionately,
Crazy gorilla-man

Philosopher

My end was near, I could almost feel it.
Lying on the bed, I just wished I could move again.
For all my near and dear, it was a sad time;
For I had made their lives and they had made mine.
‘The philosopher’ is what they had called me all the time.

I know I was scared, about the after-life;
But I had to let it go, for there was no other choice.
And then I could feel it nearing, the mourning getting louder,
Things started getting blurry, I thought something was trying to hold me.
And then it gripped me completely, I was lost for some time,
The noises started fading, and I knew it was over.
‘I will miss you all’, I thought,
Hoping that it would reach my folks somehow,
For I knew that I would never see them again,
Memories would be all that we would have.

The transition was painful, but another feeling gripped me more.
The feeling of curiosity, as to what lay beyond this.
And then I saw a white light, and it surrounded me all over.
It seemed like I was moving, but how was that possible?
I tried to move on my own, but it wouldn’t work,
I tried to look around, but nothing other than white I could see.
And then it stopped, leaving me at a magnificent place,
I looked around in amazement, and that is where I saw Him.
All the words I knew, could not describe His warmth
Was this what he really looked like, or was this just his form?
‘My life is over, my lord, and I thank you for making it a happy one,
What now?’ I asked my lord, for I wished to know further.

‘There is one thing to do, my son’, said the Lord,
‘One last formality before we proceed.’
I flinched at that, for I knew that this was it; the Judgement Day.
‘Tell it to me right-away, my Lord.
I am ready to accept whatever you give, for I have faith.
You are the sole Creator, and you are the best judge’, I said.

‘You have to live your life again, my son,
But this time as an invisible man, bound to your Self,
The world won’t feel you, and you won’t feel it,
And day and night, you have to watch your life
With you in it; exactly the way it was’, he said.
Confused with this kind of a judgement, I couldn’t take it anymore.
‘NO my Lord’, I said in anguish, for I had waited long enough.
‘I am ready to accept any judgement, my Lord’, I cried,
‘But please don’t make me do it all over again’.

And to that the Lord answered,
‘But this is for your good, my son.
I am giving you a chance to live the good times,
Live your life again, and enjoy it all over again.
Your mother’s warmth, your father’s love,
Your friends with those great moments.
The first time you ever laughed, the first time you ever felt love
The first time you ever made a friend,
Who you know would stay with you till the end.
I want you to live those moments again, my son.
I want you to see how you felt, when all of this happened
I want you to know for yourself how you lived it.’

I knew I had lived a happy life, I knew I would enjoy it all again
But couldn’t I get a few answers, before I went on my journey again?
For I thought I should not waste the opportunity,
Now that I had come so far.
‘My Lord, I thank you for giving me the pleasure again,
But before I leave, can you at least judge me?’, I pleaded.

‘No my son’, He said, ‘I can’t do that.
But I am going to leave that entirely to you.
In your journey this time, you shall discover your true Self,
You shall see your Self as you,
You shall see your dark side too.
The times when you cheated, when you spoke lies,
When you ignored the call of your brothers,
The times when you chose the shady path.
I want you to see your Self do that.’

Realising the Lord’s intention and yielding to it,
‘And what after that, my Lord?’, I asked,
About to leave for a long journey.
And that’s when God gave me his final words,
‘All your life, you asked me trite,
What is wrong and what is right?
For I never gave you the power to judge,
But today I give you that power, my son.
Whether your Self should be punished or blessed,
You decide for your Self.
It is completely going to be your own choice.
You, on the other hand, my son,
Can come back and be a part of me again,
The knowledge and wisdom that you earned,
Shall be yours forever.
And you, my son, my dearest son,
You shall be mine forever.’

And thus I left, for another long journey,
This time to make a decision for my Self.
I closed my eyes and felt something move.
And then there were noises, here and there.
I opened my eyes, to see my father standing.
A nurse entered the room with a baby, and handed it to my father,
My father looked at it and smiled.
A tear trickled down his eye.
I moved closer to look at the baby,
And happiness filled me completely,
When I saw myself as the baby.

Wannabe Comedian

"Friendship is a very weird thing to have. The main aspect of friendship is where you draw the line. The line is the limit to how close you can take your friends to yourself. For some people, this line is very close to them. And for some, including me, this line is very far. Some might argue that there is no such line for them. And they might be true. But I can always make my case by saying that the line still exists but at an infinitesimally small distance from you!

We of course have multiple lines i.e the line is defined separately for each friend of ours. Typically, you tend to put a group of people at one level and then another group of people at another level. For example, your school friends. Since they are your friends since childhood, they might be placed behind the line closest to you. Of course this is valid only unless you had an experience with them which, after your sexual enlightenment in college, you found out was supposed to be awkward.
Then there is a set of college friends that you have. Even though they have been with you for a shorter duration of time, they enjoy the advantage of being more interesting to you since you are at the so called "embedding" age when you meet them. These years are those of teenage or adolescence. This age is called embedding because you tend to embed things that you learn during these years in your life thereafter till you lie on your deathbed, guilty. The principles that you learn, the habits that you develop during this age stay with you. So do the people that you meet during these years. However, a fair judgement would ask you to keep these people at a line far away from your childhood friends. But then fairness also asks us to do other things like respecting our elders, drinking milk every day, going to bed at nine and waking up at five, etc. Not that I am saying that these things are wrong. Just that one can always question your 'being fair' by saying that why not be 'really fair' by applying 'being fair' to every aspect of your life.

Coming back to the main point, most of us don't realize that like we have drawn our lines, others too have drawn theirs. And I would define an ideal friendship as the friendship in which the distance at which both people place each other is equal. But then that is hardly ever the case. We rarely find such a pair. One such pair is the Swat Cats. But then they are not for real. I wonder why I even thought of them. You have to give me a break though. You can't blame me for being interested in the lives of two cats who get along with each other so well that their team work actually ends up in them building a jet that can even fit things which look bigger than itself and also fly at the same time faster than all other jets. Moreover, with a blue exhaust gas coming out of its tail.

I am sorry for deviating. But I have to talk about this one. ‘Swat Kats’ was and still remains to be one of my most favourite cartoons. Oh, the music, the concept and most of all, their gadgets! However there is one episode in which I got a little confused. The concept says that the Swat Cats built their awesome jet out of scrap. And they actually have missiles in the jet which have diamond tips so that they can penetrate deeper. And that's when I wondered who the hell threw diamond away as scrap!

Anyway, coming back to the main point, we rarely see an ideal friendship around. And it can be proved, even mathematically, for those who really give a damn about what I am saying. And now comes the important question. What do you do when you find that your friendship with someone is not really ideal? What do you do when you find out that someone is invading you or that you are invading someone? By 'invading', I mean going closer than what the line allows you to go. Sometimes we can just change the lines accordingly. When the disturbances are minor, you can even neglect them. The bolder type of people open up and say it out and discuss such things. And the one thing about discussing such things is that they are self-driven. The moment you talk to your friend about changing his or her position on your line map, the position is already changed. That's what I believe. Because many times, it is the thought or the feeling that counts.

Anyway, I wasn't really giving you a solution. I was just telling you a problem. I know I sound like I am soon going to say something wise. But believe me, I am not. I never have. And according to my mother, I never will. But then I believe that the secret of being a great orator is to maximize the time for which you can fool your audience into thinking that you are a wise person. For those of you who want to enter politics, this would be my sole advice. And I don't think there is anything wrong in it. Everyone needs a boost to perform well in life. If you can provide that boost by simply being a hypocrite, then go ahead. However, most of the times you will find that people are smart enough to know that you are just a man or woman of words. Unless you do what you say, nobody will listen to you. We had better leaders in the olden days. You didn't see a king giving a war cry and then going and sitting in his castle while watching his men fight for him, did you?

So, I guess I have deviated a lot by now. I don't really remember what I was talking about. Something about lines and geometry and all that stuff. Oh forget it! Let me just get the hell out of here. Take care people. See you soon again."
And he left the stage to a mild applause.

Comedian

The restaurant was filled with people. It was five minutes to eight. More people were rushing into the restaurant. The waiters were busy making seating arrangements for the newly arrived customers. The tables near the windows which opened to the park beside the one storeyed restaurant were quite in demand. However, the tables nearest to the stage were the ones which filled first. The bartender on the other side of the stage was working hard to make drinks for people, most of whom he had seen before. The waiters were taking orders for food. Nobody opened the menu. Nobody needed to open the menu. It was hardly possible to be a citizen of the city and not know that this place served wonderful sizzlers.

Five minutes passed by soon. At sharp eight, the spotlight was switched on and focussed on to the stage. A man sitting on one of the tables nearest to the stage got up and went up to the stage. It was him, the Comedian, as he was known. There was a mild applause. He started.

“Hello all. How are you, people? It’s been a long time. I would like to tell you all that I am with my friends here today. Those four sitting at that table that I was just sitting on are my friends.

Yes, I too have friends. And for those of you who don’t know, ‘Comedian’ is NOT my last name and ‘The’ is DEFINITELY NOT my first name. I was sort of feeling insecure about my image in public. People are slowly forgetting that I am a person. The other day I was in the city mall and a guy with his son walks up to me and says, ‘Hey comedian, my son is feeling a little depressed. Can you make him laugh?’

What the hell was that? Am I an instrument to make little kids laugh now? He could have at least asked for an autograph before asking for a favour! Humour is an art. It needs a lot of homework. At that moment, the chances of me making that little kid laugh were as bleak as that of his father having a heart! For all I knew, I could take him to a corner and tickle him to death. But I hardly think his father would have appreciated that. But then, you never know. These times of global economic recession do tend to bring the worst out in men. You wouldn’t be fully wrong in expecting the father to say ‘Dear Lord! That is a fortune saved. How much do I pay you?’ after you tickle his son to death.”

There was a mild response from the audience.

“Yeah, I know. Most of my jokes are based on exaggeration. I hate the person who invented that word. Now my jokes are described in chapter two of the joke book, the title being exaggeration jokes. I hate being classified. It is bad for the business. You see? People tend to like things that they can’t really describe when it comes to art. We get to hear expressions like ‘i have no words’ and ‘i am speechless’, etc. Now I will never get those types of comments on my jokes. Now they will always be like ‘yeah so what?’ and ‘been there, done that’ sort of comments because people have a word for my jokes now, the word being exaggeration.

So anyway, coming back to my life, I brought my friends here today because I wanted to prove it to everyone that I too have a life. I too have friends who come all the way from different parts of the city to watch me perform even though they have such tight schedules. Younis, for example. That tall and thin guy sitting there with a philistine smile etched on his moronic face. He is a computer engineer His job is really demanding. Do you know why? I will tell you. His job is to go to the city theatre every Friday and give a review of the latest movies to his colleagues. And there are many constraints while performing this overwhelming task. One of them is that he has to take a girl with him every time he goes. He is really good at his job. In fact he was just giving me a briefing of what he learnt from the latest movie 3 Idiots. It seems he learnt that he should never try to hide anything that he is doing FOR his friends FROM his friends, just for the sake of surprising his friends. It seems a guy did that in the movie to surprise one of his depressed friends but then before his surprise was ready, the friend had committed suicide out of hopelessness. Poor guy.

Anyway so Younis today told all of us what he is doing for us behind our backs so as to make sure that we know that he will always be there for us. He is doing a lot for our friend Rahul there, the guy wearing goggles AT THIS TIME OF THE DAY. So anyway, Younis has been doing a lot for Rahul behind his back to “surprise” him. He is thinking of buying night-vision goggles for Rahul. Yeah. Night-vision goggles. It seems they cost around fifty rupees. And Younis is going to buy one for Rahul, who by the way does not carry a handkerchief because he hasn’t found one which costs more than five hundred bucks. Rahul acted all surprised and happy when he heard of this.

But Younis, I must tell you one thing. I don’t know how to say this. The only way of putting it is, if you care even a little bit about Rahul’s welfare, please, for God’s sake, don’t buy the goggles. It is a horrible gift to buy for a person like Rahul. I mean, look at him. Just turn to your right and look at him. Look at the way he is wearing that jacket over his body tight T-shirt, the way his denims are torn at the right places, the way his hair is spiked. Look at him and just ask yourself the question, why should this creature not squeeze the blood out of me for getting him night-vision goggles. I mean, there are more chances of Rahul dying out of depression after getting that gift.

By the way, Younis, if you have already bought the goggles, I can suggest you a person who you should gift it to. Our very own Abhay. Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce Abhay to all of you. He is a very close friend of mine and he was the easiest for me to persuade to come here today. I told him that we get to dance with a lady of our choice from the audience after my show. Abhay, I am sorry I lied. But more than that, I am sorry your mother dropped you on the head on a hard place when you were a kid. Who gets fooled like that? I mean, these are real royal people sitting in front of us. How could you even think that I was telling the truth? I say the same thing to tempt my pre-matured twelve year old kid and he will say ‘Nice try, Dad. I am twelve’. You need to stop trusting people man. It’s always been your problem. You trust people very easily. Remember that time when that guy on the street said he could make you fly if you get undressed. Thank God I came there on time. What? What is it Abhay? What is it that you are saying? Heights? Scared of heights? You are scared of heights? Okay let me get this straight. You are thanking God that I came on time because you had forgotten that you were scared of heights and did not really want to fly? God that’s sad. You are real sad man. I am going to write a book on you. And it’s going to be titled, ‘The terrible consequences of having hard places in the city’.

Anyways ladies and gentlemen, time is running out. I better start my apology speech before it’s too late. I would like to thank my friends today for coming to my show. Younis, Rahul and Abhay. Obviously the things that I said were not really true. I just want to thank them for being there for me always. That’s from my heart guys. No jokes there. Thank you people. Hope to see you again soon. Take care.”
He left the stage and went and sat with his friends. A singer came up on the stage for the next performance of the evening. The comedian had a peaceful dinner with his friends and soon left.

Life

We came here alone.
And we shall also leave alone .
Not a single thing in our hands,
But memories as vast as desert sands.

Life is too short to be screwed up;
And too long to just give up.
So get on your feet, shake off the dust,
And take the path which is completely just.

Buildings will be built,
But eventually they will tilt.
Roads will be made,
But eventually they will fade.
But once see your loved one cry,
And that memory will never die.

Never stay low; never feel bad;
Never hate anyone; never be mad;
These are all just traps for the mind,
They will make you go mentally blind.

Get taken advantage of; who cares?
Happiness will go to the one who shares
Life is as simple as that you know?
And with that I shall take a bow.

We came here alone.
And we shall also leave alone .
Not a single thing in our hands,
But memories as vast as desert sands.

Comedian - 2

“What’s the deal with all comedians starting their act with ‘what’s the deal with.....’? They all have a fixed set of sentences. They all go like ‘what’s the deal with this. What’s the deal with that? Last time I checked, two thousand was a big number.’ And they all laugh about it. I don’t get it. I seriously don’t. I mean where the hell do you get to check if thousand is a big number or not? And even if there is such a place, didn’t you know it already that thousand is a pretty big number? I would say half of the people laughing out so loud are laughing at their stupidity more than their jokes.

Anyways, I just wanted to know how come all these comedians come up with the same sort of lines and the same kind of style. I mean, is there something like a meeting held by you guys somewhere in private? Or is there something like a Bible or an encyclopaedia that you guys follow? If there are such things, why am I not aware of them? After all I too am a comedian. Maybe not a big shot. But surely I have class. I wouldn’t be cracking up so many people in the same restaurant for five years otherwise. Some of them have even turned up for the same act twice. So either I am a good comedian or those people have really got nothing else to do with their lives. I want to remove the second option but then looking at the number of beer glasses per table, I have a feeling that I am sort of right to assume that it’s really not me. It’s their lives.

Anyways, did I tell you guys about the movie that I went for the other day? Well, for those who have already come here once before this week, I guess I have told you. But I don’t think it would do us harm to hear it again, would it? And besides, I don’t have anything else to talk about. So unless a fool amongst you stands up to me and says ‘That’s it jerk. You are so damn repetitive. Even I could do better than this’, I shall stand my ground, and continue talking.

So I go to the theatre. The movie’s awesome. Dil Chahta Hai. I bet most of you here like it. Now we can easily answer questions like my favourite character is him or her or whatever. But I got an important question. What do you guys have to say about Rohit? Okay I guess not many of you know remember him. Let me remind you. Rohit is the guy whose parents took care of Shalini since her childhood after her parents passed away. Rohit falls in love with Shalini and decides to marry her. But Shalini has fallen for Aakash. And then there are instances wherein Rohit is shown to be very possessive about Shalini. In fact he even punches Aakash in the face once. But finally Aakash turns up on the Sangeet night before their marriage and proposes to Shalini in front of almost 300 people, who by the way have got nothing to do with the 300 men who fought for Sparta in the movie 300. Although now that I think of it, it would be pretty interesting to have those 300 people here, wouldn’t it? Anyways, let’s not deviate here. I must accept it though. It is really difficult to just swing around this notional concept of having those 300 men over here and not say a word about it. But I shall control my urge to make fun.

So now, back to where we were, Aakash proposes to Shalini in front of so many people. Rohit comes forward to punch Aakash again. But his father stops him. They take Shalini in a room and question her about her preferences. You know, stuff like ‘what sort of a guy you like and who’s her type’ and all that. And then they come out of the room. Rohit’s father plays the old game of making everyone think that he does not support Aakash and Shalini, and then finally in his last line, he asks her to marry Aakash after scolding her so much. And then Shalini hugs Aakash. Rohit is not happy. He comes forward to take Shalini forcibly. Aakash stops him and punches him in the face. He falls down. Aakash gives him a hand to get up. He gets up and leaves. All is well. Nicely done. Now I have one major question. What do you think about Rohit? Hate him? I am sure. But I think you should look at the story from his point of view before judging him. Here goes.

‘I fell in love with the girl who was brought up by my own parents as if their own daughter. I liked her a lot. She was very pretty and bubbly. I just wanted to spend my life with her. But there was this guy who was after her. And she too sort of acted as if she liked him a little bit. But she never told me that she doesn’t want to be with me. So I started getting frustrated and became more and more possessive day by day. Finally it was one day before my marriage. Almost 300 guests were there (Oh come on! Could we just stick to ‘many guests’ rather than that number? It’s becoming more difficult for me to control). All the guests were my friends, relatives, etc. They all respected me. Then Aakash turns up and proposes to MY girl in MY wedding in front of MY guests. I get mad and want to hit him. MY father stops me. MY father, MY mother, MY girl go and talk inside MY house. They all come out. MY father decides to marry off MY girl to MY competitor. And this decision is made in MY marriage in front of all MY guests. So I get mad. I want to hit Aakash. MY face gets punched by Aakash. MY father sits quiet. MY guests are just watching. I fall down on MY ground. I take Aakash’s hand and get up and then walk away. Just walk away. Leaving MY girl behind in MY enemy’s hands in MY own marriage and MY own parents on his side.’

This is my point. I feel sorry for him more than hatred or anger. And those who still don’t feel sorry for him, it’s about time you buy yourself a heart. And guess what the worst part is. After going through so much, he doesn’t even get to be the lead actor. I mean this guy’s life is sad man. Totally sad. He just got insulted in front of three....so many people. Please let’s not say the number. I am working really hard to suppress my urges here.

But this was not my main story by the way. My main story was about this guy who was in the theatre. I don’t know where he was sitting. His cell phone started ringing in the middle of the movie. And I was like totally angered by it. But then I gave him the benefit of one mistake. He might have forgotten to put it in silent mode. But I was wrong. This guy does not switch off his cell phone or turn it to silent mode. He receives the call. Okay, I say. Maybe an emergency. Maybe somebody is waiting outside or something like that. But no. He is simply talking to his friend about organizing a party. And that was the limit. He was like ‘Thursday? Thursday’s good? Oh yeah, her exams are getting over on Thursday right? Yeah yeah. Yeah I am bringing the food. We have a few more burgers added right? Yeah sure. What are you going to do with that repair work in your house? Really? Great man. Now we got all the time we want. Friday? No man Friday’s not good for me. I got new movies to watch man. You know me. Always catching the first shows. Sunday is good. Sid is coming? What time? That’s too early man. We gotta chill at night man .Not on Sunday. We have an entire free week after that. Yeah. You didn’t know? Classes postponed right? So when do we have it? God it’s tough.’

And then suddenly someone from somewhere else in the hall shouts ,
’HAVE IT ON MONDAY FOR GOD’S SAKE’.
And then someone else somewhere else in the hall goes like ‘Hey I am not free on Monday. I gotta rewatch this movie’. There were a few laughs among the crowd here and there. And then the comments started coming in. All making fun of the guy talking on phone. Pretty funny comments. And then I thought, maybe I should put in my own comment. A funny one. I have got to think of one. After all comedy is what I do for a living. So I seize my moment and shout out

‘Even we have phones you know?’

Silence. Stunned silence. Nobody laughs. Nobody chuckles. Nobody sneezes. Although I bet I heard a popcorn crunch. And then another guy goes ‘That was sad man. You gotta work on that!’ And then more started pouring in.

‘Yeah man. That was sad. Real sad.’

‘You could get a job to talk at funerals man.’

‘Did I miss something? Sorry I had slept off because of the immense boredom of that comment.’

‘I like the phone guy better now.’

‘We hate you. Show yourself.’

‘I feel like walking out right now. I mean the movie is awesome. But I bet I almost walked out.’

It was so embarrassing. I was just thankful that nobody knew that it was me, the guy who earns a living out of making jokes.
It was a sad day for me. But I didn’t get demoralised. I took inspiration from Rohit. I mean, what was my insult compared to his insult? Here, not a single person knew it was me. There, all 300 of them knew that it was him. Yes I know I know. I am controlling it. It’s really hard. 300 warriors present in the wedding (rather, the Sangeet). Oh what the hell? Who am I kidding? I can’t hold it in anymore.
‘(The leader shouting)SPAAAAARTAAAA. WHO ARE WE WITH?’
‘(chorus) HOO.... HOO.....’
‘(The leader again)SPAAAAAARTAAA. THAT’S WHAT I ASKED YOU. WHO ARE WE SUPPORTING?’
‘(chorus) HOO....HOO....’
‘(Leader, pained now) You know what? Just go ahead and kill whoever comes first. We will say we were supporting the other guy.’”
He took a bow and left. They all started applauding. It was routine. They ate their food and left. Many of them would come back for his next act soon.

PS : No offence to Dil Chahta Hai or 300. Both are classics. Do watch them if you haven’t.