30 Secs of Tee Da Dee with Mr.Monkey

Q: Is the world a good place to be in?
A: It is the best place to be in followed by Mars, Jupiter and Uranus.

Q: Can it be made better and How?
A: Yes it can be made better by feeling better about it.

Q: A second option?
A: You can make it a better place by trying to make it a better place.

Q: What can be done?
A: Create a Revolution.

Q: Who can create a Revolution?
A: Anyone, you, me or them.

Q: How many men would it take to create a revolution?
A: One man, like the one who had accidently dropped the burning matchstick.

Q: What did the burning matchstick do?
A: It burned down the barn.

Q: So?
A: So the cattle went hungry and the land went dry and the people were left unfed and so they stormed the King's Palace.

Q: How did that make a difference to the world?
A: Storming the King's palace was an entertaining event and it became a tradition during summers in that country.

Q: And then?
A: And then storming the King's Palace became a summer tradition across the world.

Q: So that means one man can indeed make a difference to the world?
A: Yes, as long as he doesn't give a damn about making a difference to the world.

Q: Are there any other such examples?
A: The whole Human history is filled with such examples.

Q: Like?
A: Well take a guess….

Q: Thanks a lot Mr: Monkey! What are your final comments to the young generation?
A: Grow old. That’s the only way you would appreciate what it means to be young.

The Anniversary!!

I carried her in my arms as I walked down the narrow corridor that leads to her bedroom in our double bedroom apartment in the suburbs of Chennai. She was drunk and hammered as she usually is when she comes back from her corporate parties. She is a social drinker otherwise and these official parties drives down her spine all the frustration and politics at work which she cannot handle and which induces her into going overboard with her alcoholism. It is by choice and chance that I started keeping myself out of these late night sessions as my presence made her look even more ridiculous in front of her colleagues. So usually her driver picks her up from the party and drops her at home and at times even long after I have gone to bed. He has been with her family for over 25 years and is very attached to her, who is the only surviving family member beside her sister, Seema, who is studying in Canada. So it’s him who usually collects Rema, who by then would have spread herself all over the party floor, and brings her home in one piece. There have been times, when he has had to wrap her in her sari or shawl or even in the spare blanket that he keeps in the car to avoid the humiliation and comments from on-lookers at the party or the traffic cops on the road.

We do not share a bedroom anymore so I dropped her on her bed and decided to leave the windows open for some fresh air, instead of switching on the air conditioner. Her bedroom is on the right side of the corridor and faces the kitchen and mine is on the far end and overlooks the traffic ridden Mount Road. We used to share my bedroom from the time we got married 3 years back till last January, which is close to year back, when we decided to live separately under the same roof. It was supposed to be a temporary rift between our private lives which has from then on grown a world apart. We used to be socially together even after the rift in our personal lives, until that night in Oberon. It was on the valentine’s party her social networking group had arranged last February that we had attended together. It was in the same party that the Oberon’s guards saw her in depraved circumstances along with one of the Hotel employees on the terrace and they had asked us to leave the gathering. She was hammered as usual that night and though the Hotel authorities were ready to stand by us if we wanted to file a case of sexual harassment against the employee to restore their reputation, she disregarded the gesture completely. That was the end of our social life too.

I turned away from the window towards her and wondered why we were still married and why we are still together? She was lying on the bed wearing her black trousers and a shady blue cotton shirt, lost somewhere deep within her dark slumber. Only her upper torso and up to her knees were on the bed with her legs hanging down the side of the bed. Her eyes were buried deep inside her mind and her face was as expressionless as the wall. But I still loved her and I still adored her and I knew why, she still is the most beautiful woman I have ever met and even today she appeals to me more than anyone else I have seen. Yes she is as far away from me today as I am from Venus, and she is hardly a specimen of the person she used to be when I met her and got married to her, but I was still mad about her. Even in this state of intoxication, I thought, even in this state of decadence, she was still legally my wife and she was still emotionally my beloved. But it wasn’t just the alcohol and weed tonight, that fueled her state of intoxication, I had noticed that she wasn’t wearing her bra. Or rather it had gone missing, and it could have been any of her colleagues or anyone from her huge social network and maybe more. That’s what she has become today and I am still a silent witness to her descend.

And I do not for how long I shall will to be or for how long I shall be asked to, or which will precede the other and relieve me from my misery, but we have been together for 5 years now, and married for exactly 3 years, as of an hour and 35 minutes back. And it’s been exactly a year since we walked out of each other’s life emotionally and psychologically. Ironically I whispered ‘Happy Anniversary’ in her ears and kissed her forehead as I turned around and walked out of her bedroom. Just as I shut her door and crossed the corridor, I heard the message tone on my cell phone. It was an MMS ‘Happy Anniversary Ajit, it’s the first anniversary of our relationship and this is my gift for you, your angel, Seema’ read the text; it was a picture of just her tongue on my phallus. ‘A second message read ‘What’s that bitch doing tonight? Banging the security Guard?’. ‘Happy Anniversary’ I wished myself as I stood staring at my reflection on the window pane.