THE LAST ILLUSION

                                                                             

I knew April.

(Like I know the remaining eleven months).

Magic fascinated her more than anything else in the world.  In her childhood, she could pick up fights with those classmates who had little respect for magic. For others, magic might be nothing but a trick, but for her, it was the ultimate connection which she shared with the world far beyond one’s understanding. She wanted to be a magician, she bought books on magic, its apparatus and ethnology too.

(J.G.Frazer’s arguments on magic involves a hypothesis considering magic the earliest form of human thought. Based on his arguments, magic is supposedly the foundation of the whole mystical and scientific universe of primitive man-yeah, it has not been proved valid though. Anyway, I have to engage your imagination and for this nothing works better than magic, vampires, Dracula and other extraordinary medieval characters and occupations).

Her middle-class family which consisted of her dad, mom, sister and her younger brother were her first audience. At first, she performed simple card tricks, then bird from the hat and flower from the pocket of her coat and tougher ones. As she grew so also her skills to amuse her friends. Her talent did not go unnoticed. She was invited to various events to entertain guests, she did not turn it down; she loved performing.

(Family drama is in vogue, everyone can connect whether it be a dysfunctional family or some middle-class family aspiring for the best. I am not Wes Anderson, hence I am not comfortable depicting an upper-class family living a highly eccentric bourgeoisie life).

As the years went by, her sister good married, she had a niece but unfortunately, the cosmos were not in favour of her perfect world. She lost her niece. Her sister went under a depression, April with all her magical tricks stood helpless. Two years later younger brother died of drug overdose,

April with all her magical tricks stood helpless. Her best friend brought news of her breast cancer detection, April with all her magical tricks stood helpless. She could not crack the frowns into laughter of the man she loved.  He gave up on his life and the love they shared, so in one of the early winter mornings, he died by jumping off from a high building, April with all her magical tricks stood helpless.

(Nothing is sadder than death, loneliness, depression and urban isolation. I can’t refer to rural isolation as I haven’t mentioned about one of the characters sitting under a tree, listening to the sea waves banging the cliff while seagulls’ talents are abused).

She wanted to release herself and the people she loved from the misery. Misery could have been so nagging like an old woman who has been left alone in the wilderness to pluck her own berries, in the process she marks no territory; she extends her foot everywhere belittling the ground and the sky alike. April wanted to stop the misery. She had an idea, and the idea would bring happiness to everyone.

(In the suffocation of crowd there raises a Napoleon with an idea to end the problem of the masses, the irony is he is elected by the masses and for so many hearts, only one mind is put into action. Democracy affords! )

She invited everyone to a dinner party, she told them she had to something to share, hinting at her retirement plans. Seated at the table where her sister and her husband, her parents and her best friend waiting for the meal to be served.  After the meal, all of them fell one after the other on the ground except April. April was happy that she had sent them to a more peaceful place where sorrow had no name because it was nonexistent. When she thought everything was fine, she found something to do with herself. She too took a bite from an apple and went into an internal sleep. Magic! That’s was magic, her magic.

(Most of the readers love food, family feast, say love feast whatever and so the scene of the feast is here. Wars have been fought on the issues of territorial security and resource scarcity but when there is food on our plate nothing make sense to us, our minds confirm that we do not need a cross-examination of what is being served, hence, measures to tackle poverty was never discussed on a dining table).

Those who read the news of April’s family pretended to be made of logical cells. They watch in awe the reasons for the seasons. Indeed if the upliftment of the social dynamics and the slapping for a rigorous utopia is to be awakened by fulfilling the greatest energy from the grief and to have an elastic unanimous decision then there could have never been a theory and a counter theory.

(Did this story make you cry? If not then this must have made you feel intelligent. There is a saying that every story is a sad story if you read it twice, which includes humourous stories too. If you cannot make out the head and tail of this story, then the movie Upstream Color is there to my rescue).

HOW TO MILK A COW WITHOUT MAKING HER SAY MOO MOO

Winter is knocking at the door. Woolen clothes and trendy boots all on sale for the ones who has little or no knowledge of what slavery means, but that is okay no one here has a problem with how you think.  Death and unholy alliance between the nickel and the penny agreed upon several missions, crisped on the jungle, doomed for an unconventional silence and laughing at the riot which existed only in their mind. What does the endearing machines do and does not, what human being is capable of and what is the height of appreciation one achieves when an ultimate sacrifice was made to ease the pain which has been a medium of our existence for a long time. Between man and woman and God and the wonders of the mind which can be deformed and reformed, love forms the basis of the answer and madness a realm in which it operates.

She didn’t belong to any guild, not to pirates or the poets,

Daddy’s little angel, she was not. He left her-

-mom in torn blouses seduced men for money,

At 12 she had a reputation, why so early?

Blended in blood, seeking for loneliness,

Refuge too was a miser, she forsook her,

Dampen soul, she knew not how to cry,

It was just a collage of nightmares she dared to dream.

Foolish was her heart, she fell for a ragged,

He said she make him suicidal. No, she didn’t meet him,

Crime, he was a different kind of criminal,

All he talked was sex, drugs, guns and sex again,

He said he didn’t care about her, glad she won’t spend a penny on him,

Said he was not the loyal kind so he kept a cat, whose name was Jerry the dog. 

He said she make him suicidal. No, she hasn’t met him,

He was just like a poetry which the poet himself couldn’t understand, 

He wept, he wrote, longed for younger women,

He loved their dirty pillows, high heels and expensive lingerie,

But he was broke, those women didn’t keep him. 

He said she make him suicidal, he missed her, 

That’s bad, he was weak, 

She thought she was not attracted to him, 

He was losing his charm, she has already yawned twice.

Like a routine he called her up on Thursday,

Her life was not a medieval novel, her pity didn’t turn into love.

In her apartment, he came with a gun,

She heard a gunshot, did he shoot himself?

No, the blood on the floor was hers, 

He said she make him suicidal, then why the hell he shot her?

Damn! 

There is no such thing called happy ending, but it is rude to say those bunch of optimist souls are banal.  However, objections are over those people who make their lives brighter and warmer by making others' lives colder and darker. But you do not have to agree on what the defense comes from the other end. When we hear 'ship!’ we don't visualize a ship being captured by some ugly pirates, we frame our imagination somewhat of a ship sailing in the blue pristine waters of some ocean, one of the five oceans. But, dang, there are terms like ‘shipwreck’, ‘cruise vessel mishaps’, ‘ship explosion’ and more. So what? There can be as many personalities in your story, some characters you might live and some characters which you yourself will detest, the irony is you being the creator of these characters your likeness and your dislikes should matter less to you are more to the people who will be the best judge by their right to interpret. Anyway, occasionally we can all milk a cow without making her say moo moo…

THE EIGHT GUYS YOU’LL SEE BACK HOME

My mom's constant nagging and the timely accusation from my sister has tremendously helped me in my writings. Yeah! Yeah! Whatever! Anyway, today I would like to let you know about the eight guys you will see back home. Out of the eight, you might be familiar with at least one of them. And yes, I don’t want to have flings with any of them, I am here for a great family time, I bet ;)

The One who is now branded as ‘Ex!’

Once upon a time you held his hands, kissed him and might have made clumsy love, boo hoo, that is history. Things did not work between you two, you moved on, he moved on.  Your bad luck if he ended up with one of your cousins or the bitchy girl from your college. You might meet him in one of the corners, he might be single, nonetheless, you never liked Nicholas Sparks’ treatment of romance, so you say ‘Hello!’ and walk out without feeling empty.

The One whom you never stopped Crushing

He was cute then, hot now, isn’t he? He is still unemployed, stays with his parents, and got his graduation degree with great obstacles, but it does not matter to you, you were foolish then, you are foolish now. He might be more successful than what I have written in the above lines, he might be married and have six kids, but it does not matter to you because you never got over him, you still have the gigantic infatuation on him.  Oh, Scarlett O’ Hara get over him before someone leaves you by saying, ‘Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!’

The One who never got over You

In some mindless teenage days, you might have smiled at him or accepted the Friendship Day card from him, although it meant nothing to you, for him, it was the beginning of his life-long struggle with Florentino syndrome. You were his puberty fantasy, he had planned a wedding and 50^th Wedding Anniversary with you on his mind. He is not psychotic, he is harmless, so harmless that you have forgotten his existence. Sorry, this post might make you recall someone like him.

The One who now rocks like Zac Efron

Once upon a time he was the awkward teenage guy everyone made fun of. He might have been your classmate or one of the boys from your hood.  His face might have been covered with pimples and he might have been overweight. The society which loves superficially did not tolerate him as the way he was, he was ridiculed now and then. You felt sorry for him and wished upon a star to transform him. Time escaped, now he owns a body to die for, his face looks like one of the Calvin Klein models and the ones who made fun of refuses to accept their misbehaviour. He had the last laugh. Are you happy for him? Yes, you do, yet, make sure you do not fall for him.

The One who is now super Successful

The underdog, the one with the poor grades, the boy who was least expected to succeed. This particular boy has proven everyone wrong. Going by layman’s definition of success, he is super successful. He has a high paying job, has an imported car, a beautiful loving wife who has a million dollar profession of her own, and kids who are doing exceptionally well in their primary school and they go abroad for holidays with his parents and in-laws.  Do you want to call him for delivering the motivational speech at your friend’s (the one who used to bully him) charity event?

The One who was once a Playboy

Once upon a time, he uses to brag about his skills to make a woman go nuts for him. His sexual partners were more than the number of nations (once) under the British Empire.  Surprisingly, he never contacted STD, HIV/AIDS and all shit of diseases transmitted through sex. Now, you are surprised to meet him. He is married and has three daughters, he is a loyal husband and a caring father who spends his weekend changing diapers, cooking and fixing washbasins. Aren’t you happy for such transformation in him? One cannot blame you for plotting an epic revenge if you were one of the women he slept and never cared to call again.

The One who has the status of Celebrity

If there is a term called ‘pseudo-intellectual’ then there should be a term called ‘pseudo-celebrity’ too. Sometimes, there are some individuals who with their talents try to achieve something great, sad, they get stuck in one of the realms and does not crack it further, we call them ‘local celebrities’ but when they are arrogant about and shows off the very little thing they have achieved then we do not mind them calling ‘pseudo-celebrities’. In your home town, you will find a guy lingering around with a guitar, or a book or paint brush or a gas stove, everyone knows him, he has appeared in the local newspapers, however, it hardly matters to you.

The One your family and relatives want to set you up With

You have reached the peak of your marriageable age (stupid social construction), everyone in your family except you is getting panicky. So here comes the guy whom you want to avoid for three reasons, (a) you are single and wants to be this way for some period of time, (b) you are in love with someone which none of your family members is aware of, (c) you are not into guys, however, you are yet to come out of the closet. He might be handsome or moderately good looking, he might have a decent earning job and he might fit perfectly well in your family frame, but you are not ready, which means your family should respect your decision and stop throwing emotional drama.

Do you agree with the list?