SHUT UP MR. SHAKESPEARE!

"What all we men write when we think we are in love. Here's something I wrote when I last entertained such a notion. I think it's a sonnet!!"

The night was positively dripping with romance.
There she was, silently destroying my soul like the Huns razed the Romans!
The Queen among women, sleeping beauty bundled in a blanket.
"Nothing’s worth disturbing her dream, not even a kiss" - my mind does a rocket.

Why do I feel the simultaneous twirling of a cotton bud
In each of my ears whenever she talks to me. "Is it rhyme?"
And what’s that frenzy drumming - only I hear the thud!
Could it be my charmed heart, working overtime!

My own words defy me, coming out before I get my tongue around
And end up as errr… brrr…. mmm… and ffff… - burst and well-ground!
I know it’s more than desire, more than love and lust - it’s greed
To get all of her and my own soul freed.

Shut up Mr. Shakespeare, "Love comforteth like sunshine after rain"???
I tell you, it’s the tempest on a heart that’s just been burnt in an oven!

THE OPEN CAGE

Ever felt like a lab mouse?
Running ceaselessly…
Sometimes knowing
Where you are going
And sometimes not knowing,
But always unaware
That you are going nowhere?
Dreaming your dreams of
Conquering the world
Like Pinky and the Brain
On Cartoon Network,
But never really managing
To rule the world
Or even leave your cage.
The cage that’s your home now
The only place where you
Feel safe and wanted
The cage that’s your mind
The cage that refuses to unlock
The cage that holds the key
The cage that is open!

THE FUTURE IS FEMININE

Sometimes a simple line that you come across in a book could prove to be a bigger inspiration than the book itself. I was reading a book called 'Atomised' yesterday; it was very funny and very depressing at the same time, had to take a day off from work just to recover. The line that inspired me into thinking was this: THE FUTURE IS FEMININE. And this morning I read a report in the newspaper, which claimed that by 2156 AD, the fastest person on the planet would be a woman. No reason to disbelieve.

The most advanced states in our country are predominantly matriarchal societies. At least, they were in a not so distant past. The West too, I believe, is what it is only because of the increased equality, if you can call it that. Coming from Tamil Nadu, which is again a state where women take decisions (well mostly) I have never had qualms listening to the voice of reason – which almost always turns out to be a sweet one from a sweeter girl.
But aren’t fairer sex supposed to be emotional?

Well, I have a theory. Imagine you are born with three hands and one leg. What will require more effort, writing, or walking? Walking, I would suppose. Well, now imagine all men have three hands and are monopods. Then, the natural conclusion one would arrive at is that men are meant to write. But men will have to make an extra effort to walk, and that will make it look like they are meant to walk.

The same way, reason doesn’t dawn on men easily, and they make that extra effort to look logical. And for women, it is logic that comes naturally, and emotion is what they need to practice. That’s perhaps why men look more reasonable and women more emotional; the effort shows.

I, for one, have always believed that life is simple binary. It’s a simple yes or a simple no. It’s a simple this or a simple that. It’s either logic or emotion. But those who take the middle path seem to succeed always. Whoever manages to strike the right balance seem to have a more peaceful life. I think women are better equipped to reach there first.

SOUL/SOLE MATE

She: What’s a baby Kangaroo called?
I: It was a Kang before it grew.
She: What’s the difference between May and Might?
I: May is a month and Might is strength!
She: Who is a soul mate?
I: Sole mate? The only person that you want to make love to?!
She: Do you at least know what DATING is?
I: I think it’s called carbon dating – and it’s a scientific process to determine age. You want me to make a guess what your age is?

She always inspired me to come up with smart quips. I was always impressed with myself after conversing with her. We were like a 2-man ad agency. She polished my thought process and made me believe I was the best. I was the best, then!

It’s hard to imagine it’s almost ten years since I had that conversation with the girl I came to trust to be my soul mate. We were born on the same day, knew each other inside out, played mind games all the time. The last I saw/spoke to her was in 1997. I went mad when we broke up. But "what is madness, but logic of the overworked mind?"

I realize I’ve been scared of letting anyone into my private space ever since. My secrets are mine alone.

Now, I’m past the age when a man tends to see every girl as a potential bedmate - or am I?. But surely I’m not fool enough to rush, anymore. But and angel, I’m not.

My defenses are rickety. I know I’ll soon tread the path I so fear. I hope I’ll have a hand to hold all through the way! [What would Stephen King think of this last line? Very scary!]

CREATURE OF CIRCUMSTANCE

There were times when people wanted to be journalists because they thought they could write. I thought I could be a Somerset Maugham with my detached cynicism and a distinct aloofness. Being an idealist, I thought, could also help. But ten years and seven jobs later I no longer want to change the world. Not that I love it the way it is…perhaps, I have learned to be part of it. A common sparrow in a flamboyance of flamingoes or a crane in a murder of crows, I can see now that we are all birds of a feather.

I’ve written about politics – sometimes cynically, but mostly just the factual; on cinema and on politicians and actors – admiringly or admonishingly.
I’ve supported the Congress party, worshipped communism, backed the BJP and voted for the Dravidian parties – thankfully, all at different times. Hundreds of crushes and countable flings are committed only in memory…I can sense a sense of futility following me like the pug in that Hutch advertisement. Maybe one is supposed to get used to it. Maybe that’s what ageing is all about - a good mix of futility and obscurity!

Would it have been any different if I had chosen to pursue science instead of art?
What would have become of me if I had not been writing?
And why do I even want to write when I know that I’m only mediocre?

Because writing in the first person gives me the independence of being able to scratch where it itches. I’ll sneeze when I have to.

Thou Art Indeed Just Lord!