Thoughts and moments
What makes us laugh can make us laugh harder. Similarly, what makes us cry can make us cry harder. Sometimes, we are caught in the middle…
What makes us laugh can make us laugh harder. Similarly, what makes us cry can make us cry harder. Sometimes, we are caught in the middle and don’t know whether to laugh or cry anymore. So, we end up smiling broadly at testing situations. On a lighter note, we come across moments — both scripted as well as non-scripted — which plan to amuse us. The tragedy is we seldom notice them approaching and by the time we focus, they are already on their way back.
Not today though.
I’m listing out a few instances from the recent past that made me either flash my crooked teeth or tear up like Rumi –
Ashwin’s friend visited him and asked for water. There was no water and it was closing midnight. An hour later, he asked him again as he was clearly thirsty. Ashwin advised, “Ignore it. It will go away.”
We have a silly WhatsApp group and random conversations take place there. One hot topic was: Who is the nicest person in the group. Ashwin said SG was the worst. To which SG replied, “The nicest people in the house are as follow:
- Shakti
- Palla
- Ranga
- Ranga’s shedding
- Ashwin”
I asked Palla whether she’s excited about going to RK Puram for the impending passport verification procedure. She answered in negative. I urged her to think big. “Imagine people are discussing Hauz Khas and Social and Farzi Cafe… You can just butt in and say, ‘But guys, have you been to RK Puram?’ Wouldn’t that be an epic interruption?”
While watching the 2018 documentary on Robin Williams, Come Inside My Mind, you can notice how much he gave to the crowd. He was a Grade A comedian but what he did couldn’t be encapsulated by the kingdom of comedy alone. Sharp wit and soft empathy can be a tough balance. And when he realized that he can’t do that anymore, when the light in him was dimming, leaving very little to share with others, he decided to switch off the button himself.
One rainy day, in 1953, while chopping woods for the kitchen, my maternal grandfather accidentally struck his calf. The wound wouldn’t heal, revealing his diabetic realities. He passed away a few months later with gangrene sucking out his life. But before he died, somebody visited him with a heavy heart and wept while saying, “If a good man like you has to suffer this, where’s the fruit in goodness?” To which, my grandpa answered, “It doesn’t stop here.” What he meant was that the fruit of goodness doesn’t necessarily have to be enjoyed by the person himself. His kids and grandkids can have it too.
First thing first, Winnie is a female bear. For some ignorant excuse, people assume it’s a male one. Anyway, the story goes that Winnie was asked by Christopher what is happiness. Winnie thinks for a while and is about to blurt out “Honey!” but she doesn’t because that’s not the correct answer. The correct answer would be hidden in the moments before she actually has honey. Those moments brimming with expectations of how good the honey is going to be. That’s happiness, there. Expectations. Full of expectations. She remained silent and didn’t respond because she didn’t have the exact word for it.
Another myth goes that Bill Watterson of Calvin & Hobbes fame once signed an autograph for a young fan. The boy was so damn elated that he ate the paper. At a weirdly biological level, that signature became a part of his physical being. There hasn’t been a bigger fanhood moment in recorded history.
Jack kept banging his head against the wall. Somebody asked him the reason why. “It feels great when I stop,” he mused solemnly. That’s pretty much what modern life and weekend is all about.
Cinema plays a huge part in my life although my contribution to the art form is negligible. I am that guy who has watched a lots and lots of movies — mostly through illegal means before the Netflix Age blessed us — and wrote a little bit on them. However, there are instances I carry with me wherever I go. For instance, when Ethan Hawke grabbed Anne Bancroft’s wrinkled hand and placed it on his chest only to let her know something she already knows — “This is my heart and it’s broken.” The movie was Great Expectations (1998) and I believed him.
Lucky Ali, along with Hariharan, are two of the finest male crooners to emerge from Indian subcontinent. The word ‘soulful’ feels embarrassed because of its shortcoming to describe their voice. Both are ageing badly but their songs remain young.
My dad, after retiring, has turned into a petulant child. My phone remains mostly on silent mode so I end up missing his calls. If there are two missed calls, he’ll casually claim that he called me thrice. On pointing out his lie, he’d say, “I taught you how to count.” He didn’t. My mom did. Basically, he lied again.
VS Naipaul passed away recently and the reason why he attracts so much disdain is because he intended it to be this way. Through his honest writing and his unblinking biography, he ensured that there would neither be any can nor any worms when he leaves the stage.
My earliest memory of Bombay is hanging on to my amma’s hip and her taking me to witness the sunrise. Apparently, our KG teacher asked the class to request their mothers to show them the sun. I thought the sun had eyes and thin hair. On our way, Pula-maami (of the only Christian family in our neighbourhood) enquired where are we going that early. This incident is the singular reason why I ALWAYS knew which side is east. As of now, in Gurgaon, I don’t know which direction is where.
We should talk more about our childhood days because that would help us remember who we once were and what we wanted to be and what we’ve really become.
Buddha is believed to have died of food poisoning at the age of 80. Some kind lady offered him spoilt dumplings out of reverence and he accepted them out of love. We can never be sure whether this legend is for real but one thing surely is: Enlightenment can only go so far in keeping us alive. Sooner or later, we’re going to drop dead like Buddha. Good karma or bad karma.
On that positive note, let’s call it a say.