So , the last time I wrote something here , was a time when Kapil Dev was in polka dotted diapers and dinosaurs used to prance around the earth with gay abandon . Ok , that’s a slight exaggeration about the extent of my absence , but you get the drift.
Absenteeism reasons , though I assume you care more about the dirt stuck under the nail on your left little finger than my absenteeism reasons , range from being out of the city on a 15 day road trip to Ladakh, to , settling in a job where the best part of my day remains hitting the shut down button on my 256 MB RAM laptop, to, discovering that I don’t have enough money to buy the new cell phone I so covet, to, recovering from body (including buttocks) pains ever Monday from rigorous dance practice on weekends for an upcoming friend’s wedding. (she better be thankful for all that we are doing, and more so, she better be thankful for all that we are NOT doing !)
But, tonight I think, I will talk about something – which is totally unaligned with the kind of person I am . I mean , considering the kind of person I am , the deepest conversation I should be having should be about some elephant with a real bad desire for a female…elephant ! , but I say with the unflinching honesty of a Vinod Kambli on Sach ka Saamna , I am not trying to seem like the next Aristotle here . All I am trying to do is talk rather pointlessly about something which has been hovering in the back alleys of my mind since quite some time with the feeble yet significant buzz of a mosquito trapped in your ear canal – Death . . & birth.
Death , you know . That part of life which ends it. Considering that I have not yet not died though many sensible people have tried to eradicate me, I don’t know how it must be after death , but I do imagine it to be very quiet , relaxed , solitary and chill after death . I am not sure if there is a heaven for the good guys and a hell for the bad guys, and as a result , I am not very concerned about the old woman I pushed off the stairs last week . I mean, you understand how annoying it is to be not be able to rush down the stairs because a 67 year old ahead of you moves slower than a sofa , don’t you ? But the fact remains that I am going to die someday, whether it happens when I am digging into a cheese grilled sandwich ( I hope I have finished the most of it by that time , mommy says food should not be wasted ) or it happens when I am wedged between the a BEST bus & L&T tractor (Yes, that’s actually possible if you walk in Andheri east) , whether I am going to be regaled by Arabian dancers in some heaven , or be served as supper to hungry devils in a green tubelight-ed hell .
And you know, what I am thinking about is that moment , that moment which is sitting delicately at the end of the road called life as it ends , yet opens up into the unknown chasm called death . That moment, when I will be on the verge of being lifted by death , and I will know in my heart “Shit yaar , yeh end hai , ab picchar baaki nahi hai mere dost” . Now no “Dawa ya Dua” can save me ! No people , no movies , no cars , no job , no relationships , no money , no smiles , no Himesh Reshammiya , no fights , no competitions , no career , no TV , nothing , after the event called Death.
That moment , when I will know in my heart , that irrespective of my willingness to go or not , I would be gone next moment . In that moment , I imagine myself to feel guilty about the heart I broke , happy about the smile I brought on a face , sad about the moment I should have told my mother I loved her but did not , proud of the moment I believed in someone and stood by her , happy about the times I spent laughing with my friends , grateful for the moments somebody knew me as I am and accepted me , heartbroken about being a son lesser than a son I should have been . And just experiencing a little of that moment by writing about it , I am shocked by how easily do I forget what really matters . I mean , how easily do I forget that I am going to die and a lot of stuff doesn’t really matter . How easily do I forget that however blind I may try to be to my reality , that moment will thrust the sum of deeds in my face without leaving me with an escape route . How easily do I allow myself to lose perspective and be drowned in the useless ego fights , pointlessly hurting the very people I love , choosing not to say sorry just because I am too proud to do so, being afraid of taking that stupid seeming but heartfelt leap because I never have . How easily I forget the impending arrival of that last moment , and as a result , how easily I forget what really matters during the moments I have between now and that moment . How easily I shut up my heart and listen to all the voices around me , when in the end , the only voice I will have to hear is the voice of my heart .
How easily I forget death , and thus , how easily I forget how to live .
I mean , sometimes I really need this perspective check and get out of the holed up thinking and view life in a more cool manner . Saala khul ke jeena bhool jaata hoon yaar . I mean , I act like I have a lot to lose and get all scared and calculated , when hai kya mere paas khone ke liye ?
I know you are either confused , or bored , or both and would label the drivel above as some cheap regurgitation of some pocket book sized Geeta I recently read . But you know , I am just talking to myself.
So chill , don’t walk out of this blog feeling all suicidal and kill yourself by smelling your own feet . Aise hee baat kar raha tha dudes .
Now, let’s talk about birth, though im tempted to talk about what causes it ! Lets leave that for another blog.
Birth – having a kid, being a father. It’s an alien comcept to me. One of my closest college friends is about to become a father in a few months. We were in college together, very close friends until some misunderstandings drove us apart. (DCH was based on us actually !!! yes, there was a 3rd friend too – again, lets leave that for another blog !) But, solely due to his large heartedness, and willingness to let bygones be bygones, we are friends again, not as good, but im hoping we shall be with time.
So, coming back, we were in college together and well, were, so to say, in the same place as far as life was concerned. Don’t know how else to explain this. Anyways, he got married early, which at that time was a pleasant surprise for me. I was happy for him. Now, he is on the anvil of fatherhood and this put me into deep thought.
I am the same age, yet so far from feeling like I can actually get married and have a kid. Getting married, yes, I can still think about. But fathering a kid – I stil think I am a kid ! So, I was just thinking about how our thoughts have changed over the years. He is ready (he better be) to bring another living being into this world, to provide for it, to nurture it. I, on the other hand, do not trust myself enough to be able to do that satisfactorily. I love kids, as long as they are someone else’s. It’s one thing to hold them, to play with them, be silly and make them smile. But it’s quite another thing to actually raise a child. My friend and I, we were at the same place mentally once, 5 years back. We are poles apart now.
Will I ever be there, where he is ? I hope so.
Anyways, moving on, I ve been watching a lot of movies recently – the ones I liked recently are – Inglorious Basterds (Tarantino Zindabad !), UP, All the Best & Jail. Did not like Ajab Prem. Wake up Sid falls somewhere in the middle. Neil Nitin Mukesh’s nickname is “frozen face” from now on & Ranbir absolutely ROCKS !
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my return to the blogging world. Too bad if you didn’t, coz baby, I’M BACK !!!!!!!!!
