Collage Loading ....

A coLlage

It is not a story. Don’t expect to find a story here. If you are reading it with the hope of finding a story, please don’t read it then. Obviously it was supposed to be sent to the bridprize competition in the stories category. But that doesn’t prove that it is a story. I wanted to send it because they don’t have any category for such writings, which are not in the cannon. It may be called a collage, but it is exactly not that also. I told you that it is not classified (in any sense of the term); may be it can never be classified. It may be just a heap of broken images; the children of men; in the name of God. It has a title because the entry was required to have a title, probably (canonical, remember); just an assumption.

So....... yeah........ classification. Someone was probably talking of some kind of classification. What does that mean? India, probably. UNITY IN DIVERSITY. U classify; and then differences; but then they are one. It is REALLY India, Bharat, or Hindustan, whatever. I am not a philosopher like Kumar sahib was; i won’t philosophise; i can’t. But Kumar sahib always used to. He was a well read man. Lenin, Marx, Mao, Che,........The list is endless. I have met him several times. But every time it is the same. The same multinationals bothering him; the same tension of increasing extremism, oh no, no, its useless extremism, or rather, communal extremism. He wanted all this to end. Probably because he had suffered at the hand of all these and is still suffering.

Once when i went to his house, it was probably Sunday and that is why he was there and my plan to meet his lonely wife seemed to be in danger (don’t take it otherwise, its just a kind of social service; what is wrong with it if someone is getting happiness out of it and that, too, probably the only happiness). It is no one’s fault, actually. All of were together in the university. Kumar sahib wasn’t sahib those days; and i wasn’t jobless. And Mani was a bombshell even then. They belonged to the same party; ours was and still is the most hardcore communist university. Actually at the time of admission Kumar had assisted Mani; since then they became close friends. In next year’s election Kumar became the President and his party captured all the four major posts in the Union. That was the night of blast. At about 5o’clock in the morning, Kumar and Mani came to the room, completely drunk by several rounds of vodka and beer and cigarette. After all it was the victory of Communism, socialism, of the oppressed. i was already asleep (by the way, i happened to be Kumar’s room partner). In the morning i learnt what happened the last night. They went to the bed. And even then it was no fault, why it should be. I mean they were soooo happy and drunk and young and it just happened. But then they fell in love, while making love; that was the last nail in the coffin. And i still can’t believe that i snored away gloriously all this time. Couple of years down the line, Kumar landed a job in Microsoft as a language consultant of Korean. With a very heavy, emotional heart, he left the party, the university. In a year, Mani, too, landed a job in Google. And to cut the long story short, they married. Its been three long years and they are still married. But i had to come regularly to keep the marriage going. Kumar sahib is so busy with his promotions, incentives and office affairs that he is rarely able to give time. Mani had to leave the job, because who will look after the house, then? And besides job in a multinational is so much obnoxious in itself, and so much more if a woman is working there. He knows the women there. And so the whole day she bores herself in house (except when i come up to light up her day); and whole night again bores herself in her husband’s bed.

And so today i, finally got a chance to meet my ex-room partner. And i found him still in the same state, thinking about the university—

“You know Aman, our university and our education system is crumbling down. There are so many horrible things happening there. First these religious fascists are ruling there and then multinationals have made their grand entry into the campus. How we had fought against the Nestle outlet; now it has come back. Then that 27% OBC reservation; it took 15 days of hunger strike to get it implemented. Yeah it was decided and announced that they will implement it. But we had to sit on hunger strike to really get it implemented. Now the population have increased; but they are refusing to increase it to 50% and no one is doing anything. And then remember that night of Presidential Debate, when a candidate was saying something against that stupid chauvinist God of Hindus, Rama. And these Hindu fanatics began shouting something against Allah. How we had opposed this vehemently! After all Ram was like that. On one hand they were defending someone so evil and then pointing fingers at Allah, so pious, so glorious. And then being communists it is our duty to defend and protect the Muslims.......”

I was bored with all that he was saying. But he went on and on and on. What i really wanted was to fuck Mani and going by her face she also wanted the same. So we did it in the toilet. But all the time he knew it. From then on began another phase of the hip and happening and bold Mani’s life. She was whipped and beaten up every day. She wasn’t beaten so much because she cheated on him but because she had slept with a Muslim. Kumar was always too tired or too busy to make love with her but..... And Mani knew all about his affairs but she kept mum. What could she do? She was just a woman. And me? I wanted to do something. But what is the need? I don’t want to get into this muddle and lose my life.

I was also getting bored of her and i wanted someone elsee.

They are twins. But nothing about them was twin-like. One was the communist and the other was the communalist. Now they are matured and employed; so it doesn’t matter much. But back in good, old college days it mattered; after all it was the question of ideology; it was the question of their identity.

It was the Valentine’s Day. We were sitting in the college gallery with two more friends. Actually this was a kind of shed which connected the two buildings of college—the language block and the main administrative block (which also had other humanities and social sciences department).all of us were the students of language block.

So we were not sitting purposelessly, although generally we used to. We were waiting for the ‘to-be’ valentine of this communalist brother. She came; he gave her the roses; she threw them away; slapped him; and went ahead in her way to do the same to a few more boys.

For five minutes after she was gone, leaving behind scattered roses and marked cheek, he remained silent. We all remained silent. Then one in our group said—

“Its all the result of Western culture; this valentine’s day and all.”

And then as if this communalist brother was enlightened.

“Yeah! I was also trying to figure it out. You got it right. You know we used to be the head of the village; and whoever we wanted, that gi

rl was brought to us; i mean to our great grandfathers. But today.............its all the result of the Western culture that we are giving so much respect and importance to these girls. First we will have to stop this Western culture from flourishing in our country and then............”

So the plan was made. All the couples in the college were beaten up on that day, to teach them as well as the western culture a lesson.

Then that evening this girl was called out of her hostel on the pretext of asking forgiveness. And much to our astonishment, she came out. The handkerchief, the chloroform and she was bundled in the car. We didn’t need to take her too far away. Behind that same gallery, that same language block, she was laid down in the darkness.

Both the brothers were single-minded on this issue and i knew they were right. After all it was the question of self-respect and manhood. And then that issue of foreign culture was quite legitimate also. After all if foreign companies (giving employment and money to our country) pose such a grave danger to our country then foreign culture, probably, pose a greater danger. And so all the way i was with them.

It was all for the love of our motherland; of our culture. And we all got the satisfaction of being true patriots. Her naked, moving body, the process of dressing and we were, again, filled with filth and anger that demanded a discharge. And i, obviously, didn’t film only while they worked hard; i also did my part, besides filming but they did the majority of the things.

I was the media.

The second film was even better than the first. In that pre-internet era, both of the videos sold like hot cakes in the college. But men inherently like rapes and so the second video, obviously, sold much more than the first. And even in this internet era that is our most downloaded video and also the highest paid.

And so even now we try to make this kind of video. But rapes are so rare and so we have to work really hard to make communal riots a success. And these riots are also a part of our ongoing struggle against foreign culture, as you can clearly see.

This is really great part-time business as it is a great social work too. After all we are fighting against the foreign culture and promoting the real, Indian culture. It is very satisfying for the three of us.

he [yes, with a small letter as he is no god, no extraordinary] did not come riding on a horseback, or on two motorbikes or in a stylish car; he did not come running, walking , dancing; he did not come cycling, swimming, gymming; he did not come sleeping, walking; he did not come singing, writing; he did not come flying; he simply came; how, from where, to where, for what, why is not a mystery; mysteries are not to be solved; all these questions are not to be answered; they are for the questions’ sake only; he probably came for the sake of coming;

I [yes, I am extraordinary for I spotted him] was the first to see him on the road; there were hundred others waiting for the traffic to move; he came, all saw him but only I saw him; so normal, so ordinary; no catwalk or dogwalk; it was walk; to ; the traffic opened up; the noise, the shout, the shock; the pool of blood overflowed the traffic and reached My shoes; it was not to stop; it had just begun; he was seen for the first time; he was to be seen for many-many more times; in his dream; or My dream; simply walk down the lane;..............................................................................................................................................; it was the eternal wait of Sita; I saw him again; I knew the pool of blood was to extend; I had to stop that walk; but I am extraordinary; blood crossed the capacity of My shoes and; the equation reversed; it began to drown the shoes; I had to save My shoes, somehow, anyhow; how?; the question mark was bigger than it looks; I had to take drastic steps; everyone suggested so; but what is a drastic step; I had never taken a step; and I did not know; I still do not know; I called up a meeting; the first and the last step was to catch him; I did not know; no one knew; how; all told to take stern (now, what is that?) action; the meeting ended; important decision (“take stern step”) taken at the meeting;

something was soon to happen; it had to; it is the rule of nature; I; subordinates; all; everyone waited; all had gathered somewhere for a meeting; to do the same to their subordinates; I waited; My subordinates waited; and their subordinates waited; I wanted to move; My subordinates wanted to move; and their subordinates wanted to move; the blood was sticky; the moisture pretended stickiness; on the elevator; I; My subordinates; and their subordinates could not move; the elevator had jammed; the tyre had punctured; the oil tank leaked; the axle had broke; no tower; big jam of the new bridge; a screeching standstill; did not want to; and so could not; came the left air from nowhere; it had to come; to lift me; My subordinates; and their subordinates; the moisture was removed; elevators mended; all mended; all normal; the flow of blood stopped; or it seemed so; it was to renew not long after; he was really an animal; a blot on rationality; the coldness of the dead blood was in his eyes; it sought to freeze the air; it sought to freeze My eyes; and I did not look into his eyes again; I always stopped My gaze before reaching his eyes; he was after all not human; and it is below My dignity to let an animal look into Me; his sensation and his soul was buried deep, encased in ice inside him; nothing could have stirred him; his body was hot; but he was colder than ice; his body was living (at least, it looked to others); but he was not; yeah!..............now I got it right; he was in sleep; it was exactly as in sleep; living and not living at the same time;

his eyes never closed; and so he was never sleeping; but all the time he seemed to be in; I could not understand this; he would not open his mouth; he would not open his eyes; and I; My subordinates; and their subordinates could not do anything;

there is nothing that does not break; that was Mt belief; but then the weaker breaks first; I; My subordinates; and their subordinates were weaker than him; I knew it; they had realised it; and their subordinates realised it;

he was kept in the thought reading chamber for whole one day; but then it was inconceivable that a person can remain without thinking for such a long time; and to top it he had no memories—absolutely nothing at all; not even of killing the people!;

was he a robot?; no he can’t be; he had those ganglions; and he was definitely a human being; all tests proved it; was he in sleep?; memories are not erased in sleep; and sleep is not a condition where memories are not recorded or thoughts not thought; I thought he was in sleep; but now it seemed that I was in sleep; and dreaming a long, bad nightmare; I wanted to come out of it; but I was unable to;

I mean he killed with such cold disdain; not in cold blood but in freeze blood; and he remembers nothing; there must be something to it; and I was bent to discover what; it was probably for the first time that I felt with such passion; for the first time I had a motive; a feeling of trying to get something; but how was the question; for the moment all way seemed closed; but there is an ancient saying—where there is a will, there is a way; I don’t know how I recalled it when I began to lose My patience; my passion; my zeal; it was an indication to strengthen my will; and I did; I became more hardened; more bent to discover him; who he was; what he was; no way looked in sight; there was wall and brick all around; a closed area with no path to walk on; but I decided to walk into that wall; I knew I had the will; and I knew the wall itself will make way for me; from now onwards I and only I was walking; neither my subordinates nor their subordinates; for My company I had My will;

I again went to him; still I was not able to look into his eyes; but at least for some time I was able to stand it; and then suddenly a fresh way unfolded before me—

“do you have any motive behind killing these innocent people?”

and the way really worked; for the first time he stirred; yes; he really stirred; and his voice came our as his mouth opened

“no”

that single word still resonates inside Me; I repeated My question; but he never repeated his answer; I thought it might have been My hallucination; anyhow I moved on to the next question—

“then why you kill?”

“i enjoy it”;

“why?”;

he fell silent; I thought he would not speak again; but then I realised that he was thinking; he had begun thinking also; and his answers showed that he had his memories intact; but then how can he deceive machine; that question was for a latter period; presently he answered My present question—

“i enjoy the sight of blood; it gives a feeling that my dream world has become more perfect”

I was dumbfounded; however, it was not long before I regained My wits—

“dream world! what is your dream world?”

“the world where I am is my dream”

“but you are killing when you are awake.”

for the first time he laughed

“yes I am awake in my dream world”

“what do you mean? when this is your dream world, why are you trying to make it more perfect?”

he fell silent again; and this time he was not even thinking; he never wanted to answer it; I knew I had to frame some other question to make him speak again

“do you have a real world also?”

“yes”

“why do you not make that world perfect?”

“that is already perfect”

“do you go there?”

“no”

“what do you mean?”

he remained silent;

“why don’t you go there?”

again silence;

“have you seen that place?”

“i have”

“when?”

“when i am awake”

“how?”

“with my eyes”

“why you went there?”

no answer;

“do you live there?”

I never intended the question but pat came the reply—

“yes”

I did not understand; and still I do not understand; but I did not want to show it; I had no further questions; but I had to ask a round-up question so that the ending did not look abrupt—

“why did you not speak all this in the first instance; before all this torture; and why you spoke now without any............”

“speak as much as needed”

after this interrogation I again became disillusioned; all will disappeared; all passion evaporated; I no longer desired to know him; I again became aloof and segregated; it was again the turn of My subordinates; and their subordinates;

and he also never spoke again; he had confessed; and the case was being framed; but we needed motive; and the motive was too nonsensical and out of world to be considered sane; we needed something which was more understandable; his confession seeked to prove him insane; a psycho; but I knew he was not insane; he was probably more sane than anyone of us; more sensitive; for whom dreams are reality; and what we consider reality, they all were dreams; this is what the Bhagwad Gita says; this is what the rich Sanskrit philosophy says;

he was to be hanged till death; but he disappeared; just the way he had appeared; probably he had woken up into his real world; but he will sleep again; he will come back to his dream world; or My dreamworld;

its green light now. Everyone is moving. I can’t concentrate. Let everything stop. Then I will continue. But do I really need to? Does anyone really need to.........................Do anything? Why stop for such insignificance?...................