dirge

August 19, 2003

Dirge

warning long preamble to a longish post

some of you may have read [From the Table] written from the perspective of the dead man in ayesha jawed ikram’s story…when I read
[In Sanity] by zehra rizvi I responded from the same (dead) man’s perspective…you may like this…caveat: a big may…if you read In Sanity first:

Dirge

from the author of From the Table

…here is 911...duck...it could be anywhere in the innards of any inner city...or out in the suburbia void...or the 911 could be farmed out to far off lands with cheap labour pools...who gives a duck...the query is where is 911 when you need it...or...really it matters the least where they are...has anyone called them yet?...the bleeding...what is that...it can’t be blood...it isn’t red...ugh...has someone called 911 yet?...where is my cellular...duck...I don’t have one...will someone please?...duck, duck, duck...why am I so leery of ducking ‘I’?...wasn’t there in Rehmat’s Pakistan...to me it spoke volumes...the I is volatile, dangerous, egoistic, hazardous, radio-active...a killer...to be handled with derisive wariness...and is invariably always mishandled...tends to run amuck...living we don’t learn to handle the handles...colloquial?...so be it...the downfall of many is the mistreatment of their I’s...eyes, too...we seldom exercise full control over...use?...no control...has more premeditated deliberate-ness about it...almost a casual death wish at times...so imperceptible yet so distinct...like animals I have been cursed...to hear what normal folks cannot...so...why cannot we duck this I?...oh, we inadvertently and unknowingly do try...my query was on a conscious level... why don’t we make an effort at least?...or hit the delete button on the ego control panel more often?...has someone called 911?...yeh kya keh rahi hay?...nahin...kya likh rahi hay...so easy it is to drown in a sea of I’s...living we don’t realise how dead we are...so...so from Ayesha’s table I rose and went to that newer sub-division of the newer city...she wasn’t there...then went to the older area of the older city...what is it with folks...is yaari only upon demand?...there I go on yet other I’s...ensconced, elevated and protected and well fed egos begging love and understanding when they need it...am sure of this.. this will be read...every word...am unsure of my response...will cross that bridge if and when we come to it...so...it is nice to be dead...you can cross frontiers and time zones instantaneously and effortlessly...saw you in the older city, uncomplaining...and others...then came back here...pain and hurts abound and attract me...so I go from pain to hurt...and digression to digression...pain to perceptions of it...the p...and loyalty, love, life...make it l... the p & l of life....it is not an accountant’s statement...it is the balance of life...our paramount individual life...digressions...they are getting to be associated...almost a trade mark...not copyrighted...interesting how most of us claim exclusivity over pains...our pains are ‘it’...they stand out... overwhelm any pain down the centuries...ugh!...as if we own the patents..... number 098765432123456789....worldwide...little do we know mother of all pains has enough off-springs to satisfy the needs of several worlds for several millenniums...we should all re-learn the fine art of reading...between the lines...what makes us think our pain is greater than others?...yours greater than hers...or his...or...greater or smaller...I suppose the intensity is what matters...affects on individuals...or the perceptions of painful effects...when we come to this realisation it becomes easier to share the pain...to deaden the effects...digression over...in that room can see all of you...sometimes together...other times separately or with others...smoke, music, small talk, animated discussions, engrossing, engrossed, bites and biting...is that innocent looking hurt you by the pillar?...or is that...who is that in the corner?... and the one over there?...in that corner...in that other city...or the one across mountains?...so when did we learn life ducks?...almost with an inaudible sigh...life heads life...haha...and moves...dissolving...perceptions in perceptions of pain...as in yours, hers, his, mine, theirs...same with loyalty...again...perceptions as in perceptions of loyalty...as in yours, hers, his, mine, theirs...same subjectiveness...then why this inability to reason and add perspective?...why this urge for the blood to flow...that is the ultimate cop out....mother of all surrenders...have you not learned the greatest lesson is to love pain to make it disappear?...not blood letting...what is taking them so long?...irony is once you learn to love pain it doesn’t hurt...but if you love love it hurts...oh how... and in how many different ways...the flow is easing a little...am not a medic...but the pale face means you are gathering your bags...damn those medics...please wait, can’t you for a few more minutes?...what is that oozing out in spurts?...it is not red...why this urge to embrace the great equalizer...that is what death is...the final, ultimate, unalterable frontier...but not so...see I went there and came back...but from experience I can tell you...living in death is dull...there are no anguishes, scars, fights, victories after death...I hate the monotony...of course there may be millions enjoying their houris...but thanks not for me...I’d rather be alive...but then I was never satisfied here either...so it may well be all conjectural...the meaning is always elusive...whatever it is...just beyond grasp...kuch samajh nahiN aata....jaisay yeh paRRhnay kay baad hum ko kuch samajh nahiN aata... and hopefully tumko bhee...and how...and having experienced peace I cannot recommend it either...the ultimate nirvana is not for everyone...certainly not for a bhatakti rooh...and no...I don’t tell tales...not the same ones...crap or ghost...not for me, both...forget the shirt...it is all over the rug now...will meet sooner than July...