For Want of Insanity

“Good morning!” A stern, robust masculine voice blared, in my room. “Miss tejwani?” I mumbled…the voice reminded me of my 5th grade maths teacher. (He who is scared of no man, woman, hybrid or event, shall fall pray to fear of any, or all of the following- mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology-barring a few chapters- and economics). “No, you moron” came the reply much like a prosaic bagpipe going from shriller to shrillest. Despite the voice’s refusal to identify itself to the alleged source, the words only strengthened my suspicion that Miss tejwani was the perpetrator. “ahem!!”...continued the voice… “my identity is inconsequential” “what you must know, however, is that the world has changed since the time you went to sleep” “here we go again!!” I said to myself. “why the f*** do things always happen when I am either asleep, drunk or doped-out?” it’s true, poor souls who are being forced to read this…, it’s very true…I have tried staying up all night to see if anything important happens, but it’s like all the forces, natural and unnatural, wait for me to go asleep, either physically or mentally or both, before they may smite or bless humankind. Anyways, I shall save you the customary crying and ranting that comes naturally to losers like your’s truly, and go back to the story.

The voice continued- “The new world order has come. Only that it is not called new world order. It’s called –‘KGB’. “The KGB!!!” I screamed out of a horror which only those who read up shady blogs on the internet would relate to. “Those commi bastards…I knew it all along” although if asked to elaborate, I would fail miserably in explaining how I knew it, and also what exactly was it, the knowledge of which I claimed with a confidence matched only to that of a US marine commando being air-dropped into Barbados, along with 100,000 of his likes. “Jackass, not the KGB that you know of. This KGB stands for ‘Kappa Gamma Beta’ it’s a secret society which no longer intends to stay in secrecy” I was told by the voice, as I frantically(well, not quite) looked around the room, in pursuit of it’s source. (Staying stationery on your bed is not the best form of pursuit, as I learnt soon) “You see, we have decided to take over the world. We wish to turn this planet into a sane place. We wish to perform a symbolic elimination of insanity and non-conformism by sentencing you to solitary confinement for life. So, if you will follow me, I will take you to the site of your confinement, which is in Bratislava.” Under normal circumstances, I would have retorted with- “why the f*** Bratislava?” but since circumstances were too north-west of normalcy, I refrained from asking that question. Instead, I asked- “Why the hell me? Goodness, I was never the first one to be picked for anything, and now that I am being picked, it’s for lifetime solitary confinement? That too in f****** Bratislava?”

“Hmmmm” continued the voice… “well, you see, we ran high-throughput insilico trials on all the people in the world. And your traits, believe it or not, are very unique. You are insane in parts, and a non-conformist in totality.” “Also, the fear of incarceration is least likely to turn you into Rambo or Carl Lewis. So, on account of you being the average-st of the average, we chose you”. Makes sense .I thought. If I was a bully looking for someone to pick on, I would definitely pick on myself. However, my empathy for the KGB (whoever the hell they were), could by no means overcome my empathy for myself.
So, I lit up a good ol’ ‘boro, and started thinking… “What do I do? I can’t do a Rambo or a Carl Lewis…and I can’t let these guys take me. It would mean that all non-conformists around the world will have to turn into conformists. (Don’t ask me why or how) But more importantly, I will have to spend the rest of my life in a boring place…without the people and things that I love, and with all my aspirations getting confined with me. (Also, for practical reasons, one can only hope to lose their virginity in solitary confinement). So, I decided to try and talk my way out of the trouble.

“Well” I said. “What exactly makes you think that punishing me will help the world in any way what so ever?” “Good question” the voice retorted. “You see, we have to make an example of somebody, and you are easier that Steve Jobs, Nelson Mandela and the rest of them” (short pause, approx: 2.27 seconds) “ Without going into the details of who exactly the rest of them are, let me just say, that you guys are a curse on human civilization because you dream too much. You guys do things that are not in the realm of being conventional. You complicate what is simple, and simplify what is complicated.” Although it felt flattering to be simultaneously disparaged and appreciated for being myself, yet I found it difficult to believe that my actions (or rather, inactions) were being noticed by people who had dedicated their lives to a cause as noble as taking over the world by forming a secret society. My stupefaction notwithstanding, I answered back- “would you say that it is conventional wisdom to form secret societies and make attempts to take over the world?, and by the way, what exactly do you intend to do with the world once you’ve taken it over?” “Hmmm” went the voice “I figured you will ask this question. At this moment, I shall make my presence better known to your senses” “what?” I said, as I inched away from the voice, towards the corner of my bed. (The way those words were said gave me the impression that my honor was at stake. However, this fear was later proved to be unfounded).

A mystical figure seemed to appear in my room, amidst smoke and lights. I rubbed my eyes, and once my vision got better, I realized that there was no smoke or lights, and there was no mystical figure. “Turn around, idiot” was the voice. I turned around to see a frail, bald man dressed in a black suit. His face was extremely ‘Nazi’ and his aura was extremely ‘Soviet’. He looked very much like the chief secretary to the Polit Bureau of the communist party of USSR. (Only that I had no idea of what the afore said incumbent looked like). He started speaking: “before you call my bluff, let me do the honors myself.” “There is no KGB, and the new world order is far from reversing its fortune by becoming real. I made that story up because in the past issues of smaller magnitude have failed to baffle you. And as I see now, even this one has failed to baffle you too much. But surely, by barging into your room at a time when you are half asleep, has gotten me your attention. So I shall continue.” (Short pause approx 2.16 seconds). “Suyash, I am that voice from within”. On hearing this, I came into a state where I was half laughing, half crying and half-confused. But upon realizing that my face would look really stupid with these expressions marauding it simultaneously, and also, that there can’t be three-halves (although certain people that I know have had three and more “better halves”), I did exactly what I do when I feel stupid. I started talking (Although there is no empirical or practical evidence to show that resorting to this technique helps me in any way) “What? Is this a joke?” I started out to say the words- “Security!!!” What stopped me was the realization that I do not have security guards attending to me (For reasons that need not be elaborated)
“It’s not a joke, kid. I have come to tell you something” The ‘voice’ carried on “Sutta hai kya?” I pulled out a cigarette from my pack and offered it to him. He took it, took a long drag and continued- “ You are crazy. But that’s OK. You are non-conventional, and that too is OK. You dream a lot, and even that is OK.” “What’s not OK is the fact that you hurt yourself again and again, without learning much. I should warn you, that everybody has a threshold, and someday you will cross your’s. I have tried to warn you in the past, but you don’t seem to take heed….” “Boss”, I interrupted him. “If you are who you claim to be, let me just say that I already knew everything that you’ve just told me. I know I shouldn’t hurt myself so much, and so often, but I can’t change the way things are. If God made me emotional, there really isn’t much I can do about it. What I know for sure, is that getting hurt does not scare me, and that prospect will never deter me from pursuing what I want in life. If I have a threshold, let me find out what is it. And once I find that out, let me find out if I can cross it. And after that, let me find out if I can cross it and come back. Let me find out who I am, and let me find out what I am made of…..and till then, the status quo remains”
The ‘Voice’ got up quietly turned around and said “Go ahead….we’ll find out the answers together”, before disappearing into the thin air, leaving me confused…trying to figure out if what I just saw was true or a figment of my imagination….Without coming to a decision on that one, I went back to sleep…to dream again. Must live. Must face myself and the world. If this involves getting hurt over and over again, so be it…
(Contributed by Suyash parashar)