Questions and Answers

Now at a certain stage of your life (make that my life, I don’t want to generalize things here), certain sequence of events occur. Events that leave you look stupid, dumb, happy, hurt, confused, and awkward and in a totally anti-climax way (somewhat taking inspiration from Ghajni – where the whole movie was an anti-climax), leave you pondering over the question that “why do I not ask questions anymore?"

A stage where nothing looks anomalous, even in the “least significant bit” prospect. The outlook towards everything is a bootless task. Probably, it has a lot to do with things getting mundane too.

And probably, it’s because, no amount of explanation and logic and “if’s” and “buts’” even remotely bespeak or solve the hotchpotch that is slowly but alarmingly multiplying in the mind.

Everything looks pre-planned. Propaganda to make sure that every beautiful thought gets mowed down. Only in my case, it’s the thoughts that are left mutilated and snapped and obviously, killed.

So if the following lines “I practice every day to find some clever lines to say, To make the meaning come through, But then I think I'll wait until the evening, gets late And I'm alone with you, The time is right, Your perfume fills my head, The stars get red, And oh the night's so blue, And then I go and spoil it all, By saying something stupid, Like I love you ” of the song “Something stupid” by Frank Sinatra keeps playing over and over in my mind as if the propaganda was to make sure that in the entire record, only these lines were recorded and somehow, the fast forward, stop and eject buttons were disabled, I shouldn’t be surprised and surely not look shocked. Well, after all, it’s just a song. A stupid song!!

It’s stupid; because the world labels it stupid (I am not talking about the song here!!). It’s dumb because I have never made sense (this blog entry stands as a deterrent example. It’s happy, because in spite of what I may write and what I am supposed to do, I end up defying all the logics and what people call as “sensible”. It makes me happy because, I feel it is the only way I can reciprocate to the plans of destiny that has been written down for me. It hurts because, it’s futile. It is like I have been asked to find a corner in a circular room. I could have used the term “finding needle in a hay stack”, but considering how tenacious I am, I may end up finding the needle. Stubbornness runs in my blood. It is confusing, because I always end up asking myself the same question when I find myself on the start line again after running a marathon “Is it really worth it?”. It’s confusing because, I feel that I am so stoned to realize that I have been running the same race again and again and everybody else has already left the stadium. It’s awkward, because if I was the only one who was enduring these feelings, things would have stopped looking stupid, people would have stopped labeling it dumb, it wouldn’t look confusing anymore. And, I cannot really use the “happy” aspect over here to complete the flow.

“To do or not to do” and “who cares even if I do or I don’t do” are the songs that I have recently composed. One follows the other, making sure that the chronology is observed.

Maybe someday, I will publish them. Maybe I will become rich. Maybe I will do things that are not pre-planned. Maybe there won’t be any propaganda anymore.
The wind, the night, the drive, and me in that picture in a corner somewhere. Who knows, there maybe you in that picture too. (relax!!)

So here is the irony: “Why don’t I ask questions anymore?”