There are moments in life which are sweeter.. or should i call more sinister than dreams.. The almost real dreams.. The reflections of the hidden mind.. The hypothalamic tricks... The dreams we long for... The thoughts which with us for a lifetime...The reflections of an insomniac head..!!! The thoughts and ideas are more a reflection of the reality.. the sounds, smells have been smelt before or will in real be felt soon...
I lay on the bed.. fighting with myself.. to put my restless head to rest.. It wouldn’t.. “Extremely agitated.. for what..for what...?? Could nt quite guess.. may be it was a protection mechanism the head had made for itself so that its thoughts should not make sense.. But all the thoughts were crystal clear.. or did i think they were.. may be.. may be not.. Gosh.. I am like the lady.. the yellow lady..yellow flowing saree.. ‘turmeric’ised face... Huge red “Bottu” on her forhead.... I had seen her today as I walked on the lattice bridge.. down below on the dry coovum river bed.. by the sides of the decaying waste mixed with stagnant water.. Stinking.. I could smell it... The dance started.. the eerie dance... Hypnotic.. Hypnotic is the word.. She was dancing.. not the usual dance.. not even like the tribal rain dance.. She seemed to vibrate.. her vibration shook the parched coovum.. The drums were even more hypnotic.. I could feel them in my nerves.. In my head.. yeah. I was feeling them in my head right now.. that is why i couldn’t sleep.. My mind was so groggy just then.. I longed to jump into the crowd and do the same hypnotic dance... I was rescued just then by the dog.. Yeah.. a calm sleeping dog... quite quiet.. “Cute”..The voice woke me up.. Thanks to the sweet voice I have been longing to hear.. The desired voice woke me up from the hypnotism...”So Cute...” Someone called at the dog from inside my head.. Someone had called the sleeping stray “cute”.... Oh..C’mon....”The stray is cute”.. That voice ought to be kidding... Farcical..!!! I had always wondered how someone could be so silly as to call a stray dog with its plucked hair – “CUTE”.. well...the same voice suddenly turned around and said “U r cute”.. ‘Damn.. The mongrel is cute.. so am I’... May be the hair on my head had grown so much a that I looked like a mongrel.. Not so long ago.. the hair had been proud.. ‘Wind in my hair’ I had exclaimed..with happiness.. immense.... riding along the beach of Chennai.. Did i like the wind so much or my hair so much... or rather the happiness of the ride and the happiness i had created by the ride... well.. whatever long hair was not very appealing these days.. Surya did not have long hair..he had them short like the military guy.. but he had six packs too.. I tried that.. too hard.. may be like the sour grapes.. But surya had grown up in Anna nagar.. so wat?? I dunno.. But it felt clear sense now that since he had grown up in anna nagar in the movie Vaaranam Aayiram, it was completely possible for him to have a six pack and a short smart military hair..
But I lived in Srinagar colony... It was a good place except for my morning walk to the bus.. not only for the time at which the bus came... It is goddamned same like the many other million places of the country.. just a wall separated the extreme-haves and the extreme-have nots... Ah.. the smell of the agarbati and the ghee idly wafted.. so typical of the rich fairy fair Iyers(nothing against them.. but envious because they are fairy fair and get to eat ghee idly without even caring to offer the hungry guy who walks past their house daily).. I longed for the ghee-idly to become a reality.. Not that I couldn’t afford it.. It was so enticing at that time of the day.. Atleast I had a hope that I would buy it some where near my office.. or in the countless saravana bhavans all over the city.. As I crossed the small path past that house I saw a kid- a tender one with a huge malnourished head.. a bigger tummy.. wat was that symptom.. oh.. i had read it somewhere.. yeah Kwashiorkar.. Looking towards the house with its round eyes.. almost falling out of the socket... He had patches of hair.. repulsive.. his face was covered with phlegm.. nauseating.. I couldn’t do anything.. I dunno what is keeping me restless and awake now.. the happiness of wind in my hair, the “Cute” voice, the “hypnotic” dance, the longing to become like surya with the six-packs and short military hair, the unnamed desire for the ghee-idly or the repulsive face of the malnourished poor kid.. I long to put an end to the suffering of this troubled mind.. So lo.. out of nowhere comes this blog.. a way to throw my thoughts.. take it out on you.. am i being violent here.. may be.. may be not.. I count upto 1600.. still no sleep.. may be Insomnia is a gift.. “ha ha”.. laughs who? Now.. wat do i call this.. I was about to call this “anti-sour grapes”.. then suddenly remembered “anti-oasis”.. ok.. too much of repetityion will kill the fun.. So I think.. think.. and keep thinking... may be “dear reader”, u could come up with a name for it..
