f Notes from the Underground: 2/1/09 - 2/8/09
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Friday, February 06, 2009

street talk

This will look somewhat different because the font is different. My room is just above the street, so I can hear all sorts of noises all day long, and in the night, and during the times in between. My neighbour, the house opposite mine, has a small shop set up inside his house. Generally a guy of about 40 is attending the shop, but when he is not around his frail old father keeps the business running. The problem with the old man is that he's really old, weak and in the grave just above his neck (higher then chin but lower then nose). I usually avoid going there when the old man dealing because he takes too much time. First, it takes a long time just to tell him what one wants even if it's just a pack of biscuits or a couple of cigarettes. Secondly, the old man then moves slowly towards the item i.e. when he finds it. The trembling old fingers drop the article at least the same number of times you had to describe your purchase.

I hear a young girl from the neighbourhood, sounds no more then 10 years of age, say in a hurried low voice,

"Baba, chota packet condom day do." (Uncle, give me a small pack of condoms)

She says it again, this time a bit louder and again and again and couple of times more. For one reason or another old man fails to understand her. She shouts, it sounds as if after moving a few feet back,

"Ammmiiiiiiii!! dukan tay Sohail paiyjan naye nay baba gee nay unhaa noo smajh naee aa rahee condom hunee chayee day nay ya baad chay lay awaaaaaaan." (Mommmm! Sohail isn't at the shop himself instead Baba Gee is there and he doesn't understand condoms. Do you really need condoms now or can I bring them later?"

Now from what I hear from the street, it seems that the mother addressed was standing in the street herself, she goes,

"Chawlay! dafa hoon! ander aaa! aiwee! Chaleee gee!" (Fool, get outta here! Come back home, of no use, senseless)

Thursday, February 05, 2009

stale bread crumbs more

Crumbs - 03 

That year, this is the year Fred had impressively long hair but terrible wounds on the scalp, he spent many nights in fear of the unknown. That's what he told himself; it is the fear of unknown. All this time Fred knew that no such thing existed, not in our normal daily lives there isn't. To say that one is afraid of the unknown only shows the intent to mystify the fear – it increases the horror of your boogey man or the old hag flying around on the broomstick or whatever you are afraid of. Fred was afraid of not knowing how to get rid of a disease he had imposed on himself, and in not knowing he kept on inflicting more of the sickness upon himself.  

            He awoke with a stutter realizing he was not in his own bed; Nina was holding his right arm with an irritated expression adorned with a loving smile,  

"Stop scratching your head! You do it so cruelly." She whispered in his ear laying a kiss there somewhere as well. But now Fred couldn't go back to sleep, he never really could if once disturbed in his sleep – but that condition was only relevant if he was spending the night at one of his lover's abode. Nina was the present favourite. They had met a couple of months back and it was evident at the instant of their introduction that they were to become really close friends. It was that close friendship which eventually got Nina in bed with Fred. He got dressed to leave as quick as he could – he couldn't stand himself staying at Nina's an instant longer than he desired; it made him irritable and mean like he was in a hangover.  

            The worst one can do to one's body is to make it dependant upon chemicals – toxic chemicals. It ruins the minds ability to engage in thought and body's ability to respond to the mind. That is what scares the living God out of such a person and without God there is every demon still present in the unknown, every ghost still there to haunt you, all phantoms of the evil still there planning to strike but no holy spirit you can turn to for salvation since you have already kicked your God out of here, thrown it in some dark alley of your past so it may rot away with other trash – positively God must be dead by now.     

            There are acts which shape a man's future during a time when he doesn't even know its importance. It's during the later years of adolescence that one's interests shape the adulthood he chooses for himself. Fred felt music closer than his heartbeat; it was in the dark concert halls where he felt the most alive. Apart from music he also loved films, he had a gift of watching films and noticing aspects of the screen no one could've thought of: he was the perfect audience of a filmmaker and of a musician. So it's not surprising that he picked up his manifesto for his adolescent life in a movie about a musician he liked. It was something the musician had said, "Live your fears and then you'll have none left – Finally you'll be free." Or something along those lines. It's amazing that how an innocent interest in movies and music mixed with the universal rebellion, we've all waged against our respective surroundings during teenage, can leave your adulthood scarred forever. Never did Fred know that living his life in the manner advised by Morrison will take him where he was headed - where he was now.  

            It was the year after his graduation, he knew that although apparently he had made it – graduated and had a reasonably gifted professional career for those times – but it all stood on the edge of a cliff. In that year he realized that how na├»ve his manifesto of past years was but he couldn't change what had become of him. The choices he had made, the things he had done, the experiences he had had, the indulgences he had chosen for himself – all based on that manifesto based on so trivial interests. It was now that he realized that all our lives there are so many things that we don't do out of fear, but when there is no fear, there is nothing left to do. 

            It was during these times, he turned occasionally to his harmless flirting with Helen to lighten his heart. In stupor of his chemical addictions he would lighten his heart by sending flirtatious messages to Helen. He loved the woman as an artist loves his own creation – for it was Fred who had brought out the woman inside Helen, the soul she had incarcerated deep inside her body was lured out of its prison to mingle with the woman on the outside. For their years together Fred and Helen would flirt – as I mentioned earlier, even on Valentine's – without any hint of falling for each other. That's how it was supposed to be. She resisted the temptation, by denying it altogether and Fred did it by reminding himself of his position in life: on the edge of the cliff. The tacit agreement was always to abide by.  

            Words, once they have escaped the threshold of your lips remain no more your words. They are now the world's to play with, perceived and intercepted to their liking and you have no right to do anything about it. More harm is done by speaking than by staying silent, I've learned. I learned it through experience, mine were trivial in nature where in case of Fred the damage was more than he could repair. Words have caused more pain than silence. Fred couldn't believe his ears while Stephanie read a badly written script, in a brutal voice naked of any expression or emotion – even sincerity. She called. She said her words absentmindedly and hung up. Horror! Horror! 

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

More Crumbs

Crumbs -02- 


Helen was, certainly was, a shy and timid girl, certainly girl. For Fred it was the autumn of crocodile tears, when for a month he had to wish, yes that is true sometimes the most you can do to attain something is wish, to gain access to a world he was not entitled to for two reasons: he was poor and secondly because he was really too young. But we are not comparing the two, since it will be an unjust comparison. She was rich without knowing how to care, her mind completely void of the concept of beauty and femininity. I daresay, but she was innocent to the point of being unknowledgeable about necessities of being a woman and dumb to the extent that she couldn't distinguish praise from sarcasm. But what saved her from general humiliation was her unique characteristic of having been saved from loss of innocence at her age. 

Helen knew what the woman 'Helen' was and that saved her a lot of embarrassment. In days before Fred had started his work on unearthing Helen, she was a loner. She generally chose to keep to herself and spoke only when there was no way out, and even then too with great effort and visible embarrassment. After a while she befriended, or was befriended by, a lovable little doll of a woman Stephanie and another girl Maggie. Apparently Maggie was (just like her name suggests) the stereotypical fat friend who would tag along wherever you may take her, another one of those loyal to the extent of idiocy. Friendships are built upon common interests and characteristics, for these three the common factor was varying brands of innocence and their shared embarrassment owing to the lack of their feminine beauty. Maggie was fat and far less intelligent than Helen; she was good for her self esteem.  

Confidence is the measure of moral fibre in oneself which makes him stand tall chin up in front of the mirror. When someone pretends to be accommodating and overtly understanding it shows his lack of confidence and an insecurity regarding his person. On the contrary, arrogance and indifference also depict a person's deeper feeling of how unsure they are about themselves. Fred will be a difficult one to asses because characters that are born as a need to provide a universe to the protagonists are metaphors themselves. However, Helen was undoubtedly one belonging to the former category of people those who hid their real souls, their actual feminine self, covered behind a facade of understanding and even defeat. 

Out of the blue let me introduce to you Nancy. Nancy woke up everyday thinking of one guy or another she could've slept with, it wasn't like she was not attractive; dark chocolate complexion, long tresses flowing as low as her waist, heavy breasts and proportionate ass made for a figure many women desired before reaching puberty. Though she was a little heavy around the waist but that was one flaw all her bedmates accepted on account of her comfy breasts. Nancy was the only child of her parents, rich parents I might add, and that gave her the choices she didn't know were worth ages of hard work. As soon as she realized that she is a woman, nothing seemed to be an obstacle in her way to explore what womanhood had in store for her. It was that curiosity that got her into bed with men, average in most ways, early in her pubescent life. Flirting became her favourite sport, and she was not afraid to take play dangerously. So at the time she enters Helen's universe, she had more experience at the matter sex than Helen's mother. The idea of sexual intercourse being a concern of proverbial heart is a incredulous one, whoever in the history of mankind thought of relating love with 'making-love' was either having a laugh or didn't know any better. Has anyone ever thought of a celibate as a symbol of hatred or fear?