Dirty Little Secret - 1

The Ears

Probably the best and the most intangible asset that God have created for us is our mind. And probably it’s the only one which pains us and which amortizes at a speed of light years. Loads of books written, movies made, poems recited to frame its intricacies and circuitry.

It just happened to me yesterday.

I was trying to cook pasta in my kitchen. All of a sudden I felt a mild tickle on my foot. Most determinately, I was sure it was some cockroach or some lizard. And yes, it was a small dull yellow colored creature, still resting on the floor without caring my existence. I started my usual caricatures. “Whoosh! Whoosh!” I was flagging my slippers in air around it. It was not moving. I slapped them with my full force on the ground. It still didn’t move. I took my broom stick. Tried to poke it with the smoothest of the touches so that it doesn’t retaliate. That didn’t click either. But what happened, gave me a concrete information.

It was dead. I moved it with the broom stick for a couple of times to confirm that.

I bought two beer cans and my night was about to take off smoothly. Pasta, grilled chicken, beer, music and my cozy bean bag. What can be a better form of loneliness than this? Half an hour, I was done with the food and another can was left. Some sudden thuds in the windows and it assured that it was pouring heavily outside. I went out in my balcony with my beer. Sprinkles of diffused rain drops drenched my face. I was pretty relaxed and suddenly the lights went off. I was feeling even better. Random thoughts, abstract calculations of what I am doing with my life, dreams, wishes and all useless stuffs were roaming and bogging my mind. Fair enough! This is the regular stuff that happens to a 28 years old mind.

After a while, sudden flickers of tube light notified the electricity is back. I looked down. Just in front of my right toe, the lizard was lying. It was, as if, looking at me and asking numerous uncomfortable questions. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. A blurred but a pristine face of my grandpa appeared in front of me. I sensed my sweats mixing with the sprinkled rain water. 

Ahhh!!! I could have been more responsible!!!

N.B.: My grandpa died eight years ago in an old age home which was just twenty minutes away from our house. Courtesy, my father.

The Fault in our STARS!

The Thought

He bent his legs in half-chair position while shifting his body weight tactfully on each of them alternatively. The girl was standing at the corner and watching the act of the guy. A piece of cloth with all possible vibrant colors was lying on the corner of the stage. The guy picked it up and wore that around his head like a turban and started sending streams of flying kisses to the girl.

Well well well! What can be a natural reaction of the girl?

If it was on the stage of Royal Concert Hall and the girl standing on the corner was just waiting for the guy to propose her in the most epic way as it was in Tamasha, its perfect and extra ordinary. If it was some random stalker guy on the roadside, performing this CARICATURE (note the choice of words) for the girl whom he watches daily while she boards her office bus, it’s perversely imperfect and saddeningly extra ordinary. My question is not to find out right or wrong, good or bad or black or white. It is a free world. My apprehension lies somewhere else. If the stalker wished to create that extraordinary dream into reality, will it ever get ornamented so beautifully? May be you will need an Imtiaz Ali and an A.R.Rahman to create that MAGIC!