KG, YT, Mac, SS, PG and KK

Yesterday, when YT went to Top Inn for his evening
chai, he saw someone at his routine table. It was KG!
Yes, his university roomie who had made it big as a
writer. After the hoo-haa-bearhugging-reunion:

YT: So, what’s the fight between SS and PG about your
work man? Something to do with kids being arrows and
parents being bows… I mean, SS says kids are free,
but PG disagrees. What’s your take?

KG: Ah that one! That’s one of my favourite passages,
got me lots of fans. My take on that is, that while on
the one hand, in the contemporaneous context of
seismically shifting geo-political collective
psychologies, young…

YT: (glares knowingly, like he used to at the
university)

KG: Oh man, you got me! Baadkow, you still doesn’t
gets it, do you? No wonder you’re still stuck in your
jeans.

YT: Tell me man, I’m really curious, what’s your
stance?

KG: Seriously? Ok, see, it’s like this, well…

YT: …

KG: Well, I don’t know man! Do you have kids?

YT: No

KG: Nor do I! So how the hell should I know man?

YT: But it sounded nice and convincing, what you
wrote!

KG: Yeah thanks! See, that’s the whole point about
writing.  If it sounds cool, there WILL be something
to it. Invariably. Ok? I mean, if it came out of me,
it came from either my body or soul or whatever,
right? So, it WILL mean SOME thing. If it sounds
really, really cool, it probably came from the mind
ok? After all, the mind’s the deepest thingie, the
core, the ultimate…

YT: The soul is supposed to be the deepest.

KG: Yeah, fine, whatever. The point is - call it luck
or inborn talent or grace - I figured that I could
write cool stuff... things that could swing any which
way. So I just went in and got the whole contacts, PR,
marketing jig right… I mean, the copies really fly
man.

YT: So, you don’t really need to be clear in your head
or something?

KG: Mmm, it depends… actually no. See, my experience
is like this. When I write something cool, the
marketing guys get people to read it ok? I mean,
really, really bright people. And you know what? I
figured that no two bright kids interpret anything in
the same way ok? So what happens? They meet up, they
talk about my piece, and hey, before you know, they’re
fighting about it man!

YT: Yeah, I've noticed.

KG: Then what happens? There’s this dumb kid in the
circle ok? He sees these bright kids fighting over my
piece ok? Now, he’s feeling left out and desperately
wants to fit in. So what does he do? Runs to the
bookstore and picks up my book! That’s how the copies
fly man!

YT: It can't all be about copies! What if the two
bright kids met you and asked you questions?

KG: That’s the part I love the most! I talk to them
how I talk in public ok?  “My take on that is, that
while on the one hand, in the contemporaneous context
of seismically shifting geo-political collective
psychologies, young…”

YT: But that’s…

KG: It’s crap to you dude. Not to them. To them, I
said something that they couldn’t entirely figure, so
it must be something deep ok? So they go around
hunting for some ‘hidden meanings’ and you know what,
they find them! Not only that, they come back and
educate me too! That’s when I pat them on their backs,
and hey, I got myself fans for life man!

KG and YT laugh aloud.

YT: Anyway, be happy it’s only SS and PG. Had it been
that Jain motherfucker, he’d have gotten you jacked in
jail for “creating creative works that create enmity
between various sections of society”. You heard that
one, didn’t you?

KG: Yeah man, from Mac.

YT: Mac? How’s he doing? How did he get to know?

KG: Mac’s ok man. He’s shifted to Dubai. He got sad hearing
this. He heard it from SS, who heard it from KK, who
heard it from you.

YT: KK? Hey, you know what, KK’s running a marathon!

KG: Marathon? Oh man, that reminds me! Man, do you
know where I can rent out a pair of sneakers, shorts,
a number-plated t-shirt and an oxygen cylinder for a
day?

YT: Are you mad? What for?

KG: Mmm… see I gotta be at the Kukatpally-Dilsukhnagar
Marathon tomorrow, so…

YT: What the… what’s this marathon for?

KG: Come on man, I’m the brand guy for the show! It’s
an effort to alleviate the trauma caused by the social
stigma attached to non-circumstantial…

YT: (glares knowingly)

KG: Baadkow, you doesn’t gets it, do you? Look, I
gotta go and figure out the sneakers, ok? Garmeshwar
will whip me otherwise. See you around man! Get a life
man, ok?

YT: Ok dawg, got it! See you around!

KG rushes out of Top Inn, but returns after a few
seconds.

KG: Hey man, I need a favour, ok? You won’t tell
anyone I talk this way, will you?

THE END

----------------------

CHARACTERS

KG: Kahlil Gibran

SS: Suja Swaminathan

PG: Puneet Gupta

KK: Kavita Krishna

Mac: Maqbool Fida Hussain. Indian painter constantly
harassed by the Indian Moral Brigade. Recently fled to
Dubai with a Hindu fatwa on his head.

Jain: Whatsisname Jain, a prototype whatsisname from
the Indian Moral Brigade. Got famous by vandalising
classroom work of a Vadodara fine arts student.

Garmeshwar: Parmeshwar Godrej. Hot Indian Socialite.

YT: Yours Truly

----------------------

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction. Really. Sure, all the names
are real, but their characters have been fictionalized
to be deliberately misrepresented and juxtaposed in
incongruous circumstances to establish the obligatory
dyna…

Time Warp

From birth, on this land
Stood a giant mound
Of shell, ooze and sponge;
Above clouds, beyond horizons

At its base, inside the pit
Lived the two-toothed priest
Swaying, laughing, blessing.
Ageless and Tireless

When inquired of the mound
He offered samosa and toddy
But never an answer
“Go find out” he said

None cared, none dared
Some out of respect,
All out of fear.
Until the wrinkled hag

She set out on foot
Towards the eastern Sun,
Walking spellbound days on
And re-arrived at the pit

“Ten days! What did you see?”
“Ten days? Nay, ten minutes!
See my wrinkles are gone
My pulse is even, I’m a maiden!

Who saw those apples
With surgical stitches”
They laughed and laughed,
The priest and the hag
Partaking in samosa and toddy

Then it was the chieftain
Who re-arrived at the pit,
Having heard from the maiden
Of the miraculous mound

“Ten days! What did you see?”
“Ten days? Nay, ten minutes!
See my clot is gone
My heart is aflow, I’m a singer

Who saw the purplest sky
Resting vertically”
They laughed and laughed,
The priest and the chieftain
Partaking in samosa and toddy

“Ants weightlifting atoms”
“Squirrels making engineering drawings”
“Fish agitating for land”
“Hyenas tilling fields”

Thus it went with the ensuing hordes
Who followed the unwritten rules
All gained something and all saw something
What only they could

One day the New Man arrived
On his alphanumeric bike
Covered in gear
Revealed in mission

“What a waste” he said
“Of ten precious days!
I shall show you dopes
Profits of productive science"

The priest, as usual
Swayed, laughed and blessed
Never siding
Never doubting

Without a moment’s delay
The bike left
At the speed of sound
To conquer the mound

“Ten minutes! What did you see?”
New Man said, "Nothing!
Who has the time?"
And planted the chequered flag

At that moment the mound shrank
To human scale
When it became evident to all
That He was a Snail

Gazing into the priest’s eye,
From the moist antenna,
The Snail emitted an audio wave,
One to be visible henceforth

Worldwide, all sets
Received this broadcast
Of a forgotten language
“Drsh Khwalrum Asnm”

Everyone laughed and worried
When the children said,
“'Drsh Khwalrum Asnm' means
'My Time has come'”