Poles Apart

I am not someone you would describe as an intellectual. I mean, I have read a few books, but they don’t seem to have made me any wiser. I have never seen snow. Neither have I ever lived near the sea. I have never been to a party or a get-together or a meet-up. Neither have I had people come over. I guess you have to have a home for that. I have never had a crush on anyone (I went straight for the home run) or had a strange girl (or a boy) tell me they liked the way I looked. I have not seen the Taj Mahal. I don’t think I have been to Agra either. Or Barcelona. Or Amsterdam. Or Luxembourg. Or Rome. Or Venice or Oslo. Or Stockholm or Singapore. Or London or New York. Or, most unforgivably, Prague. I have witnessed a lot of graduation ceremonies in the last few years, without graduating myself. I have seen a handful of plays, but have never been to a musical, or an opera, or a ballet. I have never had to pay taxes because I have never made enough money. I have been seen, but not noticed. I have been heard, but not paid attention to. I have been loved, but been unable to love back in equal measure. I have been told that I am bright, but never that I am responsible. I have been commended on my intelligence, but never on my goodness. I have never been appreciated for my worth ethic because I seem to have none. I have never felt proud, not in the last decade at least. I have eked through, but not really lived. I have been okay, but not really happy.

But I have had conversations with myself, both neurotic and ordinary. I have been intimate with my weaknesses and doubted my strengths. I have languished in the confines of my loneliness and enjoyed the company of my solitude. I have tried drowning my sorrows and puffing away my worries, only to realise that the compulsion to face reality is more powerful than the desire to escape from it. I have obsessed endlessly over the cleanliness of my hands and the importance of right angles. I have asked myself weird questions because I could not go to sleep. I have known the bitter taste of that special kind of insecurity that is inspired by fears. I have dreamt of a better world without doing anything about it. I have immersed myself in the shallow sea of self-doubt and apprehensions, and come out of it alive. I have battled with myself (and others), only to come face-to-face with the insignificance of our pretty squabbles. I have shaken myself out of fatalistic stupors after resigning myself to failure and dejection. I have swum across the strait of self-deprecation and self-pity, even if only to be washed back across by the next high tide. I have been there and back, and back again.

And I have managed to keep walking. Even if just. Does that count?

So yes, you could say I have lived a life. Now, do I get the job? They told me to be honest.

Arziyan

धाएं सी आवाज़ के साथ एक गोली तमंचे से निकली और दिमाग का धुआं करते हुए रफूचक्कर हो गयी। इस घातक वार के बाद भी जनाब ज़िंदा तोह थे ही। बेदम सी आवाज़ में उन्होंने पूछा, “आख़िर इस मर्ज़ का नाम क्या है?” बम के गोले सी गरजती हुई एक और आवाज़ ने फ़रमाया, “महाशय, यह ज़िन्दगी है। इसकी न कोई दवा है, न कोई इलाज। अब तोह आप बस दुआ की ही ख्वाहिश कीजिये।” आज कल हुज़ूर दरगाह के रास्ते में एक कोने में पड़े रहते हैं। वह लोगों से दुआ की भीख मांगते हैं, और लोग उन्हें फ़कीर समझ दो-चार पैसे देते हुए आगे बढ़ जाते हैं। कल शाम बाज़ार में मुझे मोहतरमा दिखीं थीं। ईद का मौका था और वोह कुछ सहेलिओं के साथ सेवईं नौश फ़रमा रहीं थीं। हमने भी उनके पीछे-पीछे अपने होंठ मीठे कर लिए। भाईसाहब, आपको क्या बताऊँ! क्या लाजवाब सेवईं थी। अली अहमद की दुकान का पूरी दुनिया में कोई मुकाबला नहीं है। आह, पर मैं कुछ कह रहा था। हाँ, तोह मोहतरमा और उनकी सखियों को अपना आदाब अर्ज़ कर मैं दरगाह की तरफ़ बढ़ चला। रस्ते में मियाँ भी मिल गए। हालत देखने लायक थी। पर ईद के दिन उनका भी कुछ हक़ बनता था। मैंने कहा, “मियाँ वैसे तोह मैं उपरवाले में कुछ ख़ास यकीन नहीं करता, पर आपको देख कर तीन-चार बार मैंने भी सिफ़ारिश कर दी है। उन्मीद है की शाम रहते गडरिया वापिस ज़रूर आएगा।” यह सुनकर जनाब हाथ जोड़ कर मेरे पैरों में गिर पड़े और पागलों के माफ़िक ज़ोर-ज़ोर से रोने लगे। मैंने अपनी जान छुड़ाई और दरगाह की ओर हो लिया। उस शाम उनके के नाम की एक मन्नत मैंने भी खिड़की पर बाँध दी। शायद कोई तीर निशाने पे लग जाए।

Catch-22

Humour me, you old grump. What do you live for these days? Her. Hold on. What about your dreams? More importantly, your desires? Heh. You fucking slacker. You want her life, no? You’re drowning in it. So it seems. But she’ll hate you for it. I wouldn’t even want to look at you. Not more than I hate myself. Doesn't that drive you insane? What’s in it for you anyway? The thrill. Mostly the tragedy. I’d say you’re a lost cause. But then again. Do you even love her? That is the predicament.

A Conversation

A Woman: How long did it last?
A Man: It was over in a few months, but it lasted a lifetime. Do you think I am romanticising?

The Woman: Oh dear, never mind what I think. Why should you care? Do you regret it?
The Man: Saying that I regret it would mean I am willing to make amends. I am not. I do not believe one can change the past. There is a certain finality to it. It simply exists, like this present, and every other moment in time. Even if one could go back there, one would invariably end up reliving it. So in the restricted sense of the term, I do not regret it.

W: Of course the past doesn't change. How else would you have it? The arrow of time marches on, isn't that they said? Shouldn’t it be more like 'the arrow of time stays frozen forever'? Waiting for you to illuminate just a blip on its immense expanse?
M: Ah, now you see that remorse is often overrated. Over-regretted anyway. I believe I could not have said it better!

W: (Smiles) Believe. (She rolls her tongue over the word, as if getting a sense of its varied contours) Do you believe in what you say? These mannerisms or ideas - are they not mere affectations? How can you be sure?
M: Can I be vague? (Chuckles). Can one be sure of anything but what exists in the mind? I believe they call it solipsism. I am not that extreme. But there is a certain degree of blind faith involved. Identity is crucial. Some people know they have a fake one. That is okay. But not being able to believe in oneself is dangerous thing to confess to. Even to oneself. Hey, are you even listening to me?

W: Oho! Of course I am. Are you saying all this to satisfy me?
M: Uhun. We are here to rationalise. You are not a part of the equation.

W: Better. Tell me more about your work. What do you do?
M: Oh dear, now why would you ask me that? Geez, I have been branded as a person who does not attach a lot of importance to actions. In my defence, all I can say is that actions can be measured, cited, controlled and undone. Thoughts and ideas, even when policed, can not be forced. There is something beautiful about that. I like to stake my paltry claim to that beauty.

W: What are you, an 'Orwellian'? Dreamer?
M: I don't even know what that is supposed to mean. You haven't read him, have you? I loved 1984 though. I like the idea that sanity doesn't need to be statistical. Though there is no way of proving it, I'd like to believe an objective reality exists outside the mind.

W: You are being evasive, as usual. Come on, this is not an inquisition, you know. Why does it have to be a question of 'either' and 'or'? One can be part of something beautiful without being merely an armchair intellectual.
M: You are a shrewd observer. Hence, my self-loathing.

W: That's all you've got to say?
M: I guess so. Is it working? My mojo? Anyway, I have a question for you. Do you think vice and instinct are the same? It's not a digression, I promise you.

W: Under the spreading chestnut tree / I sold you and you sold me
M: Excuse me?

W: Nothing really. It's a silly rhyme I learnt when I was little. There are these two people, you see. Obviously, they have to be in love with each other. But then they are forced to face their worst fears one day and in that moment of panic they somewhat betray one another. Having surrendered to impulse and consequently plagued by guilt, both of them drift apart. Just like that.
M: I see. It's an interesting anecdote. I sold you and you sold me. It's got a nice ring to it in any case. So your answer is a yes?

W: I wish it were that easy. Instincts are nature but vice is all nurture. In our world, they have somehow come to mean the same. The blame partially lies on morality and religion. They brand traits as virtue or vice. It's a pity really. You seem to agree, don't you?
M: Absolutely. But you know the worst part? This rationalisation is not in the fashion of helping me escape any of that guilt. Pity, really.

W: Yes, we are not strong enough. Even reason does not help our case here.
M: And so it goes. Care for a cup of tea?

W: You don't drink tea. (Rolls eyes).
M: And you don't have to be so mean. Come on now.

Negative Pessimism

Excerpts from a conversation between two Intellectual Chutiyas. Both thinking they are intellectuals in their own right. Both knowing they are chutiyas. Not in order of chronology or importance. More for The Self and The Fool than anyone else.

The Self: I thought you went on to the dark side?
The Fool: As in? I have been bloody stubborn with things all my life....and I am stubborn with optimism as well.

The Self: The Dark Side. One known as pessimism.
The Fool: Naah. Or maybe I don't know. Negative Pessimism. If that means anything.

The Self: I like it. I am stealing it.

The Self: So there are four things -
1) You flunked.
2) You published and now plan to publish your own book.
3) You have an opportunity with the Law Commission or something. Hopeful thing.
4) Then there is Congress. Not too hopeful thing.
The Fool: The last bit is very promising.

The Fool: As regards you being a whatever, I think you to be one of those straightjacket-rulebook-based guys who would be liked by many of the parents. Reason being you do not experiment much. And you have been professionally appeasing. And I say appeasing and not substantiating; though I am sure your mother would strongly differ from me. Other things I can not straight away think of.

The Fool: You are at home. You are getting work done on your blog when I am slogging for some rubbish in these weird hours. Your news is the best news. I just had trivia to share. How is The Other by the way?
The Self: Good.

The Fool: The kind of conversation that we have had. It is nothing but an exercise for intellectual indulgence. You know the answers better than me. It is a fact that both of us know.
The Self: We both know. Yet we seek affirmation. Or maybe a contradiction.

The Fool: My telling you something would hardly help. That is again something that both of us know. But we still talk at these ungodly hours to just satiate our indulgent minds. My God! I would never ever have a girlfriend if keep talking in these verbose terms.
The Self: I like the term intellectual chutiya. It’s more befitting.

The Fool: I like the fusion aspect to your vocabulary.
The Self: Let me indulge in myself.

The Self: I go to susu. Come back in 60 seconds. You can time me.
The Fool: See….too many things in the pipeline.

The Fool: I would say that for me you have been an individual whose company has been pleasing.
The Self: I would take comfort in that.

The Fool: Till date the contexts against which we can backdrop our acquaintance have been such that make the relationship scintillate. But in the end it’s all contextual. Everything is relative. Very probably, and fortunately for you, you may find better people to be with - for instance The Other - who are better behaved according to your notions. And then, the backdrop of our relationship would change. And you would say that our friendship has been good. But then it would be tempered with your expectations of The Other.
The Self: You are using that word very often.

The Fool: And I, being the emotional fool that I tend to be at times, would say that your friendship of late has been 'disappointing'. And that I no longer feel the warmth.
The Self: I respect the honesty. And you do see that despite everything, I asked this question of you. And not anyone else. Not The Other or my parents.

The Fool: So, how was the lecture in philosophy? Read philosophy. You are better endowed than me because of your knowledge of mathematics. You shall be better off at analysis. I do not know all the physics and logic that is required.
The Self: I like to create my own philosophy. It's all in the head.

The Fool: Have been using a lot of what Einstein said in my study of the constitutional jurisprudence. And I love it. But tell me. How was the The Other bit? Especially the The Other one.
The Self: Is it the truth you want?

The Fool: There you go wrong again. Is there anything called truth? You violate the fundamentals of relativity so often.
The Self: The truth "I" know?

The Fool: Haha. Yeah, go ahead.
The Self: It is spelled as The Other. And you might have to give me five minutes to actually understand it.

The Fool: Perfect equanimity is what we all seek. But rarely find. Those who do; are said to have attained Nirvana. Nash Equilibrium attempts it. But only in very specific contexts.
The Self: You do realize the effort you put into typing would be much more fruitful in case you stuck to the core vocabulary Indians are gifted with?

The Fool: Both Louis de Broglie and Einstein, through their works have only helped to bring the conundrum in a better light. The confusion however still persists. Everything is relative.
The Self: You are ranting now.

The Fool: Hahahaha. I know I am.
The Self: And I sincerely suggest you stick to a 2000 word vocabulary.

The Fool: All those who have been close to me have told me of this. There are others who are not close as yet, and therefore have not complained as yet. But I wish them to complain as soon as possible
The Self: It’s not the ranting I detest. It’s the inability to comprehend it.

The Fool: So you have experiences in St. Fidelis and because of the surroundings and the exposure - or the lack of it - you call yourself (along with the pleased consent of your family and friends, including me) as successful.
The Self: Go on.

The Fool: You step out of the cocoon, as do I and so many others, and the context changes. The same term 'experience' is now juxtaposed with different settings. These being your life within DA-IICT and without. Your life juxtaposed with The Other and so many others. You feel the same experience as you had at Fidelis take newer colors. The phenomenon fundamentally is same. It's just that you try perceive it in different contexts. And you call it a "downhill ride". So when you ask me whether you have been a disappointment, I would say what I am best at. I would say that for me you have been an individual whose company has been pleasing.

The Fool: Arey yaar. I am reading what I had written to you.
The Self: You read your own work. Talk about vanity.

The Fool: I love being a narcissist.
The Self: I am making a blog post out of this conversation.

The Fool: No. Please do not.
The Self: I am not foolish enough to make a joke out of it. You are welcome to help. Only 10% of it is going in anyway. Maybe less.

The Fool: It will be in you Gtalk history. You can always go through it whenever you wish to. And I would be there as ever. So we can talk. Why let all and sundry know what is so essentially ours.
The Self: Have faith in me.

The Fool: And I know you will remove all the The Other bits.
The Self: I repeat. Have even more faith in me. What pseudonym do you want in the conversation?