Diya, my Grandma hands me out a bit of white paper.She orders me to go and fetch the things written on the paper. I look at the paper. It's a grocery list. I make a very reluctant face and refuse to go out of the house at this time of the morning. I try to make excuses. People think i'm too lazy. The truth is, I'm scared of grocery lists. I don't know why. But i'm scared. I feel a prickly ice cube dribbling down my spine.
Grocery list, a white piece of paper containing some names; aloo, peyanj, holud, rin saban, ada, amar matha. I feel scared. I quickly run back to my room, i close the door, and i declare myself to be sick. Diya, disgusted with me, goes away, Dadu goes and fetches the items from the grocer. They think, how I being their grandson, my parent's child, could be so lazy, and they go away.
What they don't understand is that, I am scared. Shit scared of grocery lists.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Ruins
The house beside our flat apartment is being torn down. A yellow house. Day and night the workmen/demolishers are working really hard to break it down into bits and pieces. Nowadays i wake up in the morning with loud hammer bangings greeting me into the unconscious world. But when i go to sleep at around 2'o clock at night, i see the deserted, delapidated structure standing, waiting for its turn.
For the past 2-3 days the demolition has stopped. The workmen are not coming anymore. Maa says probably some problem with money issues must have ocurred.
Maybe.
Now when i go to sleep at night into my bedroom, the building stands, bored but still it stands. It looks so out of the world. It looks like some alien ship crash site. It looks scary. Only a single green, old, crumpled bottle of sprite lies on the half demolished 1st floor. This somehow comforts me. It soothes me. And it assures me that i'm just watching a decaying corpse, not some living thing.
For the past 2-3 days the demolition has stopped. The workmen are not coming anymore. Maa says probably some problem with money issues must have ocurred.
Maybe.
Now when i go to sleep at night into my bedroom, the building stands, bored but still it stands. It looks so out of the world. It looks like some alien ship crash site. It looks scary. Only a single green, old, crumpled bottle of sprite lies on the half demolished 1st floor. This somehow comforts me. It soothes me. And it assures me that i'm just watching a decaying corpse, not some living thing.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Ojana Ghumonto Bostu
[this is the product of pre-traumatic stress, read at your own risk]
[From the makers of ‘pre-death postmortem’ we bring you ‘Unidentified Sleeping Object’!]
The terror.
At last.
It’s sinking in.
Tomorrow. I’ve heard tomorrow never comes. I hope i’ve heard right.
Right? Or left?
This is not the time for political mumbo jumbo.
Go back to your bed; it’s not your fault that you’re a moron.
Fuck you!
I’ve lost it.
Where were we?
Right or Left?
Oh right!
No, actually wrong.
Hope i’ve heard wrong.
Right! Thanks for the cue.
Tomorrow.
A new day.
A new boy.
A newborn.
Tomorrow.
An old clock.
An old aspiration.
An old pain.
Tomorrow.
The same old wine in the same new synthetic-unbreakable bottle.
Stop fake poetry.
STOP.
...
...
...
Ok start.
Good.
Tomorrow.
Stop talking shit.
Yesterday
No yesterday, no day before yesterday.
Today?
You crazy?
Say something which Public love to sympathise.
Say something which public love to idolise.
Say something which public love to identify with.
Like?
Truth.
Ok, got it.
Tomorrow.
Great. Now you’re getting it.
That’s the word i’ve been looking for.
Boy, one day you’ll grow to become a great ‘came 2nd in the race’
Anyway.
Thanks.
What was the word again?
Eat shit!!!
[And he spits out in rage]
[From the makers of ‘pre-death postmortem’ we bring you ‘Unidentified Sleeping Object’!]
The terror.
At last.
It’s sinking in.
Tomorrow. I’ve heard tomorrow never comes. I hope i’ve heard right.
Right? Or left?
This is not the time for political mumbo jumbo.
Go back to your bed; it’s not your fault that you’re a moron.
Fuck you!
I’ve lost it.
Where were we?
Right or Left?
Oh right!
No, actually wrong.
Hope i’ve heard wrong.
Right! Thanks for the cue.
Tomorrow.
A new day.
A new boy.
A newborn.
Tomorrow.
An old clock.
An old aspiration.
An old pain.
Tomorrow.
The same old wine in the same new synthetic-unbreakable bottle.
Stop fake poetry.
STOP.
...
...
...
Ok start.
Good.
Tomorrow.
Stop talking shit.
Yesterday
No yesterday, no day before yesterday.
Today?
You crazy?
Say something which Public love to sympathise.
Say something which public love to idolise.
Say something which public love to identify with.
Like?
Truth.
Ok, got it.
Tomorrow.
Great. Now you’re getting it.
That’s the word i’ve been looking for.
Boy, one day you’ll grow to become a great ‘came 2nd in the race’
Anyway.
Thanks.
What was the word again?
Eat shit!!!
[And he spits out in rage]
Fairytale
‘Don’t wander to that hill my son. It is where the house of the sun is. Don’t ever visit the house.’ Said Grandma. ‘Why?’ asks the boy. ‘The demon without a face lives in the house. No one has ever seen him. Those who have, never returned.’ And so the boy decides to visit The House of the Sun. He takes his sword, his cell phone, his magic robe, and sets off towards the hills on his R’Enfield. Granny knows where he is going, and doesn’t stop him. She knows she has been successful in moulding him into a proper human being. Now he has to travel the rest of the path to become the man he was destined to. And so sets the boy his journey towards the House of Sun. He travels on a dusty highway for four days. On the fifth day he sees the girl. He stops.
Boy: Who are you?
Girl: I’m the gypsy.
Boy: Where are you from?
Girl: Nowhere.
Boy: Where are you going?
Girl: I don’t know. Will you give me a ride?
Boy: Sure. Hop on.
And so they set off, towards the hills.
Girl: Where are you going?
Boy: Over the hills.
Girl: Why?
Boy: To visit the House of Sun.
Girl: Why?
Boy: To kill the faceless demon.
Girl: Why?
Boy: So people are not scared of him anymore.
Girl: Why are people scared of him?
Boy: Because he has no face.
Girl: That’s weird.
And they travel on.
A gas station pops up in the middle of the highway.
Boy: Lets stop, my bike needs gas.
So they stop the bike in the gas station, an abandoned structure standing on the middle of nowhere. The boy gets his gas, still available in the station. The girl loiters around. Suddenly she finds a tape recorder. She brings it to the boy. They find a tape inside it. The boy presses the play button. They hear the wheels spinning inside. Then a voice blares out.
Voice: Hello strangers! If you have discovered this tape then probably you’re heading towards House of Sun. This is a statutory warning stating that anyone visiting the house has to be armed with sharp nails and teeth, and must have a twisted logic, and must be scared. Happy Journey ahead.
Boy: whatever.
And they get on the bike and travel on. After traveling for four more days they reach the hills. They find an escalator, moving at the base of the hill. They get out of the bike and step on it. The escalator takes them towards the hill tops. As they gain altitude they see the mountain become grey. They find an orchard here, a farm there, all empty and dried up. As they reach the top they see a large castle standing. A castle in ruins. They approach it. No one’s around. They approach the door of the castle. A rusty lock hangs from the door. The boy touches the lock. And it melts. They open the door to find an empty room, an empty heart, an empty mind. They search the rooms. All are empty. The Castle is empty. But a faint thumping noise enters their ears. A drum beat, a very peculiar drum beat. They are scared. And slowly the drumbeat starts to get loud. They try to look for the exit, and they can’t find it. The beat becomes louder, and louder, and louder. They panic, they cry out. The beat is now ear-piercing. The beat thumps down on their heart, it clogs their heart, it coagulates their blood.
Suddenly they find two little, yellow butterflies mingling in the grasses like two teardrops of god herself. Probably it is the mating season. And the drum beat stops, the heart finally rests. They find their way out. They find the exit. They come out of the castle. They are not scared anymore. Now they know who the faceless demon is. And they also know he is dead. The heart has stopped beating, and he is never coming back, coming back to get them. And they feel happy.
Boy: now what do we do?
Girl: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
Boy: probably get to know you better.
Girl: why?
Boy: because I love you.
Girl: ok.
Boy: well?
Girl: well what?
Boy: do you love me?
Girl: well… I guess I do.
Boy: let’s get back to the bike.
Girl: ok.
And they live happily ever after…
Boy: Who are you?
Girl: I’m the gypsy.
Boy: Where are you from?
Girl: Nowhere.
Boy: Where are you going?
Girl: I don’t know. Will you give me a ride?
Boy: Sure. Hop on.
And so they set off, towards the hills.
Girl: Where are you going?
Boy: Over the hills.
Girl: Why?
Boy: To visit the House of Sun.
Girl: Why?
Boy: To kill the faceless demon.
Girl: Why?
Boy: So people are not scared of him anymore.
Girl: Why are people scared of him?
Boy: Because he has no face.
Girl: That’s weird.
And they travel on.
A gas station pops up in the middle of the highway.
Boy: Lets stop, my bike needs gas.
So they stop the bike in the gas station, an abandoned structure standing on the middle of nowhere. The boy gets his gas, still available in the station. The girl loiters around. Suddenly she finds a tape recorder. She brings it to the boy. They find a tape inside it. The boy presses the play button. They hear the wheels spinning inside. Then a voice blares out.
Voice: Hello strangers! If you have discovered this tape then probably you’re heading towards House of Sun. This is a statutory warning stating that anyone visiting the house has to be armed with sharp nails and teeth, and must have a twisted logic, and must be scared. Happy Journey ahead.
Boy: whatever.
And they get on the bike and travel on. After traveling for four more days they reach the hills. They find an escalator, moving at the base of the hill. They get out of the bike and step on it. The escalator takes them towards the hill tops. As they gain altitude they see the mountain become grey. They find an orchard here, a farm there, all empty and dried up. As they reach the top they see a large castle standing. A castle in ruins. They approach it. No one’s around. They approach the door of the castle. A rusty lock hangs from the door. The boy touches the lock. And it melts. They open the door to find an empty room, an empty heart, an empty mind. They search the rooms. All are empty. The Castle is empty. But a faint thumping noise enters their ears. A drum beat, a very peculiar drum beat. They are scared. And slowly the drumbeat starts to get loud. They try to look for the exit, and they can’t find it. The beat becomes louder, and louder, and louder. They panic, they cry out. The beat is now ear-piercing. The beat thumps down on their heart, it clogs their heart, it coagulates their blood.
Suddenly they find two little, yellow butterflies mingling in the grasses like two teardrops of god herself. Probably it is the mating season. And the drum beat stops, the heart finally rests. They find their way out. They find the exit. They come out of the castle. They are not scared anymore. Now they know who the faceless demon is. And they also know he is dead. The heart has stopped beating, and he is never coming back, coming back to get them. And they feel happy.
Boy: now what do we do?
Girl: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
Boy: probably get to know you better.
Girl: why?
Boy: because I love you.
Girl: ok.
Boy: well?
Girl: well what?
Boy: do you love me?
Girl: well… I guess I do.
Boy: let’s get back to the bike.
Girl: ok.
And they live happily ever after…
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Coma
(Dedicated to my beloved insomnia)
Hush… Shhh… Silence…
Silence.
Everywhere.
Every inch.
Silence.
He drops the pin.
Silence.
The pin has sunk into silence.
He claps.
Silence.
His hands become invisible to each other.
He bangs His head on a wall.
Silence.
Wall? No wall exists inside a boundary-less block of noise.
He wants to get out. He can’t. He has to. He will not. He should. He doesn’t.
He jumps. He flies. He glides. He swims.
He crashes.
He’s hurt. He’s sad. He’s cold. He’s sleepy.
He yawns.
And silence breaks down. Silence is over. Silence is history. Silence is banished. Silence no more.
Now, it’s Echo’s time.
He hears yawns.
Everybody, it is yawning time. Everybody, now sleep!
Hush… Shhh… Silence…
Silence.
Everywhere.
Every inch.
Silence.
He drops the pin.
Silence.
The pin has sunk into silence.
He claps.
Silence.
His hands become invisible to each other.
He bangs His head on a wall.
Silence.
Wall? No wall exists inside a boundary-less block of noise.
He wants to get out. He can’t. He has to. He will not. He should. He doesn’t.
He jumps. He flies. He glides. He swims.
He crashes.
He’s hurt. He’s sad. He’s cold. He’s sleepy.
He yawns.
And silence breaks down. Silence is over. Silence is history. Silence is banished. Silence no more.
Now, it’s Echo’s time.
He hears yawns.
Everybody, it is yawning time. Everybody, now sleep!
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Who cares??
It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.
~Holden Caulfield
The Catcher in the Rye.
You see, we don't disappear. We, the people, just think we do. We think we disappear. We think we evaporate. We think we dry up. We think we drown. We think we are some stupid superhero who will save everyone else from a Royal pain in the ass. We think we are actually doing something fruitful. We think 'oh my gosh, i'm so cynical. That is so ultra-cool!'. We think we are such a liability for our watchman's son's pet frog. We think "DOWN WITH THE SYSTEM!". We think that we are thinking. We love to think.
But actually, we are just crossing a road, pausing to check if some car is approaching us, we stand in the middle of the road, the traffic police makes a weird face, and we cross the road and reach the otherside. The end of the discussion. Or is it???
~Holden Caulfield
The Catcher in the Rye.
You see, we don't disappear. We, the people, just think we do. We think we disappear. We think we evaporate. We think we dry up. We think we drown. We think we are some stupid superhero who will save everyone else from a Royal pain in the ass. We think we are actually doing something fruitful. We think 'oh my gosh, i'm so cynical. That is so ultra-cool!'. We think we are such a liability for our watchman's son's pet frog. We think "DOWN WITH THE SYSTEM!". We think that we are thinking. We love to think.
But actually, we are just crossing a road, pausing to check if some car is approaching us, we stand in the middle of the road, the traffic police makes a weird face, and we cross the road and reach the otherside. The end of the discussion. Or is it???
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