Wednesday, July 4, 2012

The glory of me.

I don't like changes.

You move my cheese and you will have a rabid , balding, 5 foot 5 inches of pure fury coming at you with a bat. Its not a pretty sight.

There are those wise among you who will give me the spiel about the only constant thing in the world is change. It may be true. But that doesn't mean I will have to like it.

I don't like changes.

But it happens all around me nevertheless and I am forced to deal with it. It sucks.

Take for example this new format the blogger. com has bestowed upon me. I hate it. I might get used to it like a bad marriage and that will take effort.

I don't like to make effort.

I come from the school of thought that believes that the world owes me. For existing.

Go on. Call me megalomaniac. I don't care. I have been called worse.

I believe that things should happen to me without any effort from my side. This includes friendship, love, foreplay. Not necessarily in that order. I am not fussy. But given a choice, I would prefer foreplay first.

Wife says I am not romantic. I am not. I think romance is for fools. I would kill for her and if situation arises might even die for her ( since I don't do rhetoric, I cannot vouch for this) but I don't do romance. The maximum she can expect is an embarrassed apologetic mumbling of the words I love you, when I feel she could leave me.

Make no mistake. Love is a selfish, self centered emotion that serves mostly you. And that's the beauty of it. I don't know why people find it difficult to admit that they are selfish. In my 42 years of existence, I haven't seen a single act that didn't reek of selfishness. Nothing.

I am not a cynic. I don't live in a self exiled bubble of a world of bitterness and expectations. In fact I think I am a pretty content , happy guy. I look at myself in the mirror and see the insignificant magnificence of me and I am truly glad to be alive.

Its good to be me.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

In these last few months, I have one too many deaths.

Though not directly affected, its painful to see parents mourning their child's death. It makes you question everything. I have sat and watched ,bravely , a wake that was held for a young man who has done more in his short life than most have done by living a life to a ripe old age. The beauty of it was the number of friends he had.

So many friends. Youngsters. Lots of them. They spoke of him, showed pictures of him, showed clips of him. Shared him. With us. The mute spectators of a tragedy that has been happening since life began.

A wise young boy , who took off in pursuit of happiness and died alone in the Alaskan wilderness had stated that happiness needs to be shared. I loved that boy. I wish I could have held him and make him see himself in me. I wish I could have told him he did share it.

Later on I went to pay my condolence to his parents. His mother had taken tuition for me when I was in school. Her eldest son was a toddler then. She used to give me tests which I completed. She knew I had no need for the tuition and that the whole charade was for the benefit of my mother who felt that she needed to see me make an effort of studying. After the test, we used to spend the reminder of the time in the park with her child. I think I might have had a crush on her.

I fall in love all the time.

I went up to his father and hugged him. He looked at me stricken, uncomprehending. He turned his attention to the screen which was showing his son singing a song, rather badly on web cam which would have been funny in another life.

I don't do grief. I cant. I can cry in movies but I cant do grief in real life.

I went to his mother. She sat on the front row of the audience, watching her son , by now belting out and totally torturing the song with no self consciousness. I went up behind her and patted her shoulder. She looked up at me. I asked her, rather stupidly, how she was doing. She smiled , her eyes welled up, shrugged her shoulder and pointed at the screen.

I hugged her.

That could be my mother. That could be any mother.

Later that month another son died.A family friend. Killed in forest by a leopard. Only in India. His life too was celebrated on the youtube and facebook.

Then another. A cousin. Went to sleep and never woke up.

But I don't do grief. I cant. Cant pretend to feel something that is not in the realm of my experience. What I did feel was fear. For my children. I wanted to hold them a little longer.

Told you. All acts and thoughts are selfish.

I don't like changes.