As My Mirror Left Me

My mirror deserted me a few days back. It decided to bite back its sharp tongue, it went into self denial. The tragedy of our life is perhaps acceptance. We accept destiny, we become fatalists since we believe we do not have it within us to challenge fate. For a long time, I had not contacted the mirror because I thought it will tell me what I feared to hear. Then one day, I just removed the curtains and there it was dusty and faded. And when I asked it to tell me the truth, it just said, “Fall into the line. Conform” It had realized that the gangrene had spread and it did not want to suggest amputation.

When they have broken you, you need a severance but any severance is painful and human beings are weak by nature. So we run away from the pain that this detachment can cause us. The Mirror is therefore important to show how disfigured you look as you slowly become oblivious to the stench. Imagine a layer of blotched skin on the Statue of David. Only a mirror can show it to you.

When you have a spine, it’s easier to break you. Sometimes, the flexibility is lost to bend and a lot of people find breaking backbones a lot more fun. Worms are lucky in this way. You can crawl and cringe and stay alive.

First you rebel, then you drink your frustration, then you accept and then you cross over, finally ready and adept at pulling others down to your baseness.

As usual I end with a question. The question dear reader is whether breathing means staying alive. And before you get into the rhetoric of ideas gleaned from self help books, let me walk out for some fresh air.

It’s Late in the Night…

… and I am unable to sleep. The sheep has been counted and put in the pen. Country, Tagore and Lounge music has failed to make any difference to this uncharacteristic insomniac night. I do not know why I am awake. I just know that sleep is a distant dream tonight.

Have you ever felt sad without ever realizing the rationale behind feeling sad? Have you ever stayed awake late into the night wondering what’s in store for you? Have you ever wondered if a life exists beyond careers and deadlines? And all this thoughts coming in when you should actually be singing drunken love songs for no one and every one? Why does peace come in only when facing the calm sea on a dark and lonely night on Marine Drive? Why does a shrub called hibiscus sound like a refuge?

I met someone the other day after three years. The last time he and I had been together, we had spoken about Camus and Kafka. After three years all we could do was exchange the latest gossip and talk about how work was. When did we change so much? When did the so called ‘unimportant’ things really become unimportant to us? When did we start speaking about the future with a life partner and not about the rocking time we had with friends? A few days back a friend asked me why we were running out of things to say to each other?

Anyone who knows me knows a little bit about my idiosyncrasies. They also know about my egotistical disregard for the mundane. I have always felt that to conform is to reject change. To conform is to give up living. Keep walking but not with the crowd - that’s what I have told everyone who cared to listen. Today evening I did something crazy. I wanted to test myself. I was waiting for a friend at the Churchgate Station. Mumbai was going back home and was hurrying towards the trains which were eagerly waiting to gobble the city up. I walked. I walked against the crowd. Towards the exit of Churchgate forcing my way through a never ending stream of humanity, determined to get back to their respective homes. I fought, I got pushed, I ducked, I dragged myself and with every moment I just wanted to turn back and follow the crowd. When I reached the end of the station, I didn’t know any longer what to do. I had not conformed and yet I was standing there all alone, no one to share my crazy victory with. Slowly I turned and became one with the crowd. There were no longer men and women around me. We were all rats running towards a tunnel and to be a better rat I just needed to prance a little bit more, be a little smarter than others and I would be the best rat that got the window seat on the train through the tunnel.

I conformed. Strangely when I walked back, I felt nice, no that’s not the word. I felt safe and the narcissist me didn’t like it’s reflection on the ticket window anymore. The fire in the belly dies down, someone had warned me a long time back. Rekindle, reignite, relive.

The radio suddenly has started playing Aa bhi ja. I want to sing along too, but I don’t know who I would be calling. Would anyone even understand? The world I know is in deep slumber waiting to wake up early one last time for this week. It’s Friday already.

Good night and may the sleep fairy kiss me asleep. Sometimes my dear friend, it’s good to not answer questions that trouble you.

From Heartache to Heartache

In lonesome nights in distant lands;

A face shines brightly in my heart.

The clear skies speak of things unsaid;

Of the world that made us part.

It was deathly still that night;

The night you left me to my fate.

But my heart still calls for you;

From heartache to heartache.

Caesar’s wounds wept in Rome;

And Brutus paid with his life.

My wounds, my love are for you alone;

To save you from all your strife.

I do not know if you'll remember;

All that we did for our sake.

A man misunderstood walks alone

From heartache to heartache.

My wishes are all with you;

May you find peace some day.

Or maybe it was yet another game;

Which you just wanted to play.

It’s easy to find love they say;

In the midst of painted fakes.

Your fake smile is all I recall;

From heartache to heartache.