Monday, April 30, 2007

Ghanoodghi aka Lethargy

-The great feeling one gets after a heavy lunch. It’s the moments before siesta. The muscles relax, and you wish it wasn’t a working day today. But work beckons after lunch at home. As I drive, the muscles want to stretch. In the background Rang dey Basanti – soundtrack plays. Madhushree singing- a slow nice sad song –Tu bin bataye. Oh man!! do I have to go to work.!!?

The ying and yang are at play; Driving at a speed of 120km/hour and listening to slow sad song is what I called perfect harmony between opposites. The sad and the glad; The slow and the fast; Apollonian v Dionysian; The rational sad song v the irrational speed of the driver; The post-Paratha & Lassi lunch fermentation in my tummy v the pangs of a love lost.

People forget that; with happiness comes sadness, with life comes death, with logic comes irrationality, with love comes hate, but what is the opposite of God, the Ungod? But God is unseen then what is seen?

When the eyelids droop for siesta; when the neck feels drained of energy. And you wish a massage was at hand. The caress of a lover; and that unforgettable hand in hand.

The smell of her hair, the scent of her body –as Al Pacino says in ‘Scent of a woman’ :

Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here.

…………..and then you have made a circular motion with your index finger pointing towards the head, thinking ‘this guy is a crazy wanker’. Somebody’s desi father or mother happens to read this and tsks tsks to her/himself ‘ poor guy needs to get married, bechara!!’. Marriage is an excellent solution to a man’s freedom.

:- )

Sat Sariakal, Salam Namastey and Allahspeed to all.