Flutter dear mind
Flutter and fly
From the rapidly narrowing streamMutter
Mutter all you want
In my ears, on my face
From a slow fading dream
Walk near as much u can
Find the highest u can fall
From what depths your fears scream
Exhale the poison fruit
Sticky roads stick ur wings
From here to gather steam
Burn them demons out
Let those ashes become your coat
From one to the other extreme.
I come to you in humility, knowing that I come from you. I come to you in awe of all the beautiful places you hold and the rich diverse culture you once helped achieve. But mostly, I come to you with a request. PLEASE LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.
I know you have your claim on me, but please stop suffocating me, stop trying to dress me up like you, stop telling me who I should hang out with, and what time I should be back home. I know that you think you know better, but please listen to my voice of reason and know that your tools don’t fit into our grooves anymore.
We are like those kids who came out of smaller towns and decided we won’t be what we left behind. We decided to be reach out to the world, something you never could, because you were too underexposed to know how the microphone works. But we do. We don’t just farm, we organic farm. We have twenty different kinds of coffee flavours to go with our hash brownies. We have crowded passports and glowing screens. Glowing screens that connect us to the world, and the world to us. Because we are equally important now, unlike your times when we were the beggars at the door of the World Bank. We don’t just use computers, we make them. We don’t just work in foreign companies anymore, we buy them. We have friends in other genders, and we have sex, lots of it, before, during and after; hetero, homo and bi. We are not asking you to do what we are doing, stop asking us to do what you think we should. We really don’t give a shit. So when you stand up and tell us that it was our fault you raped us, or that we should not look, live and breathe global, you are not convincing us to step back, you are aggravating us to pace faster, in a direction away from you. And BTW, you are behaving like that old illiterate neighbour who even you hated when you were young.
Young, it seems you have forgotten how it is like to be young. Because being young means learning, changing with the times, trying on new things to see what fits better. Youth is about dreaming, about being attractive and be attracted. It’s about breaking away and moving forward; going out, not sitting in. It’s about possibilities and equal opportunities. It is about looking at others and taking in what feels right. It is about being free and understand everyone’s need to be so. It is about realizing how important it is to be respectful of personal space, and to have a voice.
And lastly, you will have to stop forcing yourself on us. Mentally and physically. You will have to stop telling us what to wear, you will have to keep your hands away from us, you will have to stop ruining our parties, you will have to stop peeping in whenever you want, you will have to stop shoving the culture dick down our throats, and lastly, you will have to listen when we say NO. Especially when our girls say NO. They mean it, and we mean it. But it seems you have completely forgotten how to be a gentleman. Because if girls are afraid of you, every woman around you feels threatened, then you are nothing more than a social embarrassment.
See, we are used to girls, they are in our schools, colleges, workplaces, malls; literally everywhere that we are. And they are there to be wooed, not scared away; they are to be spoken to, not screamed at; to be admired, not annihilated, they are to be shared voices with, not gag. I don’t know how justify what you are doing. I don’t know why is it that you can’t keep your genitals, your tongue and your eyeballs to yourself every time you see a female, no matter what the age. And I really don’t know why you are opening your mouth at the time when you should use your brain, and SHUT THE FUCK UP. Because every time you let that trap of yours open, you are falling down a bit more in our eyes. So whether you say it was chowmein, or western culture, or say it was our fault that we got raped, or that the clothes our girls wear lead you on; what you are saying to us is that you really are not willing to change, and that our ties are at an end. Trust me, we have no issues walking away, NONE.WHAT.SO.EVER.
I know you are scared that you will be deemed redundant in this world sooner than you expected. That is why you are holding on to whatever shred of past is left with you, something you think validates your existence, like an addict to the drug. I also know that you really don’t get us at all, so stop pretending that know the solution; you cant help the cause till the time you realize that the problem is YOU. Mostly, know one thing, you are old and we are young, we WILL inherit you, and when we do, we will make sure we correct your mistakes. So if you still want to be part of our system, stop acting like a sickness. And for god’s sake, stop raping us of our freedom.
Journeys are always symbolic. Sometimes we travel physically to cover emotional distances, and sometimes we walk away in our minds to set our hearts free. Whatever the reasons be, we are all travelling, all of the time. Either towards or away from something, but we are all passengers in this journey to find ourselves, and our pieces. This is such a story. Of three tiny specks of sand, who took on a journey not knowing where they will end up, or who they will end up being.
When I look back at life, it seems that everything has a way of sorting itself out, that everything happened for the best. But that’s the beauty of nostalgia, isn’t it? To make everything seems alright, colourful and nice. For example, our childhood.
When we were kids, most of us wanted to grow up, and fast. Not because of anything else, but because being a kid just plain sucked. We wanted to dress better, have a career, walk-in walk-out any time any hour, take calls on life, smoke without fear, and drink with social acceptance. We forever wanted to get out of childhood as soon as possible.
There was no money, no power, no freedom to do the stuff we actually wanted to do and definitely no sex. On top of that, there was a constant running routine of school, homework, peer pressure, puberty and expectations from the parents. We hated waking up in the morning, hated doing homework, hated having a ban on TV during exams, and to the least detested the idea of getting the bag ready according to the time-table of the next day. Ah! It all comes screaming back, isn’t it?
The only saving grace was the fact that you had your friends, who would agree to the fact that life sucked big time. Nothing has changed still. You still wake up grudgingly, get dressed, leave for your job, and forever crib about it to your present friends. Only, now you have the examples of how great it was when you were a kid. Sun coloured days and shit. But the fact is, twenty years from now, when you will have no challenge left in your job, no youth, and no sex drive left in your mind. You will look back to today and say the same things. You will suddenly be talking to your equally menopausal friends about how exciting it was to do whatever shit you did at work. And how so much money can never count for the crowded bus-rides to your office. You will also criticize the way the people of the future are not remotely professional as you were. But the fact is, you will forget that you actually were looking forward, and working your ass off towards earning lots of money, so that you can leave your shitty job and ass of a boss for a better life. And also, that you spent most of the time in the office Facebook-ing, and reading stupid blogs like these. Trust me, you will forget. And conveniently so.
This very deception is what all these words are about. Nostalgia is a switch that makes every remotely nice incident in the past turn golden and beautiful. You know why? It’s because we ask it to. We want to believe that we had a good childhood, that our teachers and parents loved us dearly. We want to believe that we were great as professionals. We want to believe that we made a difference. That we had a good life. So that when we die, we don’t die in regret of a wasted life. We die thinking that we actually were happy.
And you know why I am writing this? I am writing this, so that I can come back here twenty years from now and know that all that is not true. But I have a lurking feeling that by then, I will forget why I wrote this in the first place 🙂
Most of us were rebels when we were teens. And most of the time it was without a cause. In retrospection, we can blame in on the hormones, and move on with our set life & lifestyles.
But what do you say when a guy, who’s speeding head-first towards mid-life crisis, suddenly turns rebel. A rebel against almost everything in his life. When he starts questioning every basic thread holding his ‘culture’ & ‘society’ together. When everything that he has worked for, for the last 7-8 years seems worthless & unimportant, and when he knows in his heart that it’s time for a radical shift in his personality, profession & outlook to life. What do you say to such a person who just can’t f**king care less.
That person is me. And I’m bloody pissed at everything right now. And I want a change. A radical change, and NOW. I want a dictator who can put things right in this country. I want a joint entrance exam for politicians to enter and run this country. I want quotas to be ‘Financial Status’ based & not ‘Caste’ based. I want hardliners to be shot dead, and I want me to be a part of the shooting squad. I want people to wake up to the RTI rule & start using their rights. I want men to start feeling scared of women and know what we have been doing to them for this long. I want cricket to give way, and people to honk less. I want people to give way to ambulances, and dogs to have a better life.
But more than that I want to get my life in control. To make a difference, and not just by making the logo bigger. I want to get all my good men together and set them free. I want to be able to be more than a corporate stooge. I want to do good work, not just hard labour, and I want to do it at my own time. I want to have a say over my own time, and get rid of imbeciles sitting on top of my head and dictating terms. I want to keep the writer alive and kill the man-hour counting revenue chasing idiot. I want to keep the child alive, and kill the man. I want to be curious and kill the smug know-it-all jackass who keeps talking in my ear all the bloody time.
And to achieve all of the above, I am shedding my baggage and moving on. I’m letting go of the fear of failure, getting over this comfort level of a ‘JOB’, mocking the ‘it should be like this’ culture. In the worldly sense, I’m all set to be an irresponsible bum. I don’t care anymore. I want my life back, the one that inspired me to paint all afternoon long and sit by the lake watching snakes play in the water alongwith small fishies. I want my sun-coloured days back. I am done being grown-up. I wanted it, I had it and today I know that it pretty much sucked big time.
Besides, what’s the point? It’s all the same everywhere. Buildings full of handicapped faces, suffocating, dying in handicapped spaces. So, that’s it. I want my voice back, so that I can scream out loud when I want. I want my legs back, so that I quit crawling and run out whenever I want. I want my eyes back, so that I see more than a cabin space and artificial lights. I want my soul back, so that I can talk to it once more. I want my balls back, so that I can start taking calls on my terms.
This life of corporate diligence and dexterity is not for me. I am going back to being rebel. I am going back to everything nice in my life. So if you want to join me, c’mon in boys, the water is just fine :)-