Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imagination. Show all posts


The sun was beating down on the reddish brown footpath.. The little sand particles gleamed like little diamonds. They reminded me of those little bags of diamonds that were smuggled from one country to another in Bollywood movies. I have never seen a real diamond in my life but I like the way they look on TV.  I was brought back to reality by the motorcyclist behind me, he had somehow got on to the footpath. It was as if the big red bus had pushed him of the street.. I walked on and reached Iyengar’s bakery. I ordered the two eggs and a bread that memsahib had ordered. Memsahib belonged to a middle class family, she was a very nice person. I was staying at their place for ten years now. I broke out of my orphanage at 10, because life there was monotonous.. I ended up begging on the street. One day when memsahib was passing by, she stopped and took me in. I was asked if I would like to go back to the orphanage. I refused to go. She allowed me to stay at her place. She educated me. I helped her in her work. I was given a room. This is the first  time I had an entire room to myself.  I treated it like my palace.. I was extremely lucky. It was so much better than the orphanage, I had my own freedom, I wasn’t a pea in a pea-pod. I was an individual here. I used to sit outside my little room and watch TV..  I loved watching Hindi movies. They always ended on a happy note. I wanted to be happy.

I always had this feeling, I was born for greatness. I always wondered Bollywood would be my ultimate destination. I always felt safe when I watched Bollywood movies. I escaped into a world of ultimate happiness. The songs, the jokes, the huge mansions, the fancy cars and the make believe rich parents. Life was good. I totally forgot work, orphanage, street sounds for two and a half hours. I forgot me, I was the protagonist. Problems disappeared. I always suggested to Memsahib, I wanted to go to Mumbai. She always said it was a bad idea. Life is not as easy as they show it in Bollywood movies.

I was a runner, I wrote a letter thanking memsahib. I bid farewell to my palace, picked up my money box, shoved it into my bag and slowly sneaked out into the darkness of the night. Memsahib must have been disappointed, but a bird has to fly away from its nest when it learns to fly. She taught me to fly and I will always be grateful for that.

I caught a bus for Mumbai, I felt excited and sad. I felt like the day I ran from the orphanage ten years ago. This time I had a goal, I was going to work in Bollywood and life was going to be happy. I had done my research, I was a good dancer. I practiced acting in front of the mirror for the last five years. My only hindrance was I still looked like a kid. Memsahib had told me, I still looked like I did ten years back. I did not mind that. They could not say no to me. I was prepared. The bus journey was calm. The chitter chatter of the fellow passengers was like a chorus song. The sound of the rickety bus sounded like Shiva Mani’s drums. The car horns sounded like shehnai. Bollywood had beckoned.
The sun was still getting up. The sky was a mix of bluish grey portion of day and a dark grey portion of night, with a few stars, half a moon, half a sun.. The planetary bodies were still half asleep. Bollywood was wide awake. The roads were full. The people walked around with purpose. Nobody seemed to notice me, but that was short lived. I was going to be hunted for autographs. I was awakened by a rickshaw guy. I declined. I asked around and found a place to stay. I could afford the place for only two weeks. My next goal was to find a job.

I set off into battle into the hustle-bustle of Mumbai. It was like getting into a local bus in my hometown, a push here, a shove there, or you were left stranded alone in the lonely bus stand. Every job here had competition. I was stunted by my limited knowledge of Hindi and my baby face. People were not sure I was mature enough to handle responsibility. Buses came and went, I kept getting stranded. The magic of Bollywood was not working. It had been two weeks, there was no song sequence celebrating my success. My reserve money was spent, I was lonely, hungry and out on the streets. I wanted to run. I could not, I was getting pulled into the quicksand.
The conversation that led to the meaning of life.
It started of in a very random manner, but continued to take shape.
Read on
Person A : Harry potter's birthday is on 31st July
Person B: Harry Potter is fictious
Person A : Harry potter's birthday is on 31st July
Person B: Harry Potter is fictious
Person A : So what??!! If u consider that ...then birthdays are also fictious.
After all it just comes only once in ur lifetime. You are just celebrating an imprint of that day
Nothing more to it
Person B: Its actually a day when u try to make sense why u were loaded into this world and what is ur purpose.. Its a day to reflect. Its a day to reASSess.. Its a hope tat you are living one year more. Its a sadness tat u r one year closer to not living.. It stays long after you have gone. And It is nothing..
So harry potter like a birthday is nothing.. He is a figment of our imaginations which wants us to believe there exists an ideal world like the one created in myths, so that we are taken away from the sorry lives we are leading on this monotonous planet called earth, which keeps doing one nd only one thing, tat is rotate round and round and round, and we are like insects swarming this planet.
Person A: Exactly!!
So what makes u think a Birthday is not a figment of our imagination....We were born on a day
that day is long overr...It will never come back
We have just deviced a way ..... in our imagination.......put it in words...on paper
to decide that..the same day will come back...exactly 365 days later..
Person B: It is like a hope tat when the earth rotates and rotates and comes back to the same spot again and again and again.. Our lives will be scrubbed clean on tat day and we started living anew..
Person A: ... That I would say is a figment of our imagination
Its a chance for a new begining, a change ....or rather a way for us to accept change...cos humane mind is a stikler for stagnation...but alas change is inevitable
Person B: Maybe if they throw a lonely human in a walled building and raise him there. He would rotate round and round. Thinking he should copy the world on which he stands
Person A: and will stop every once a year...... to look back....n then start again...round n round n round.
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