Letters to Cookie - It's a *Crazy* World, Dear Dog

Dearest of All Cookie,

What are the haps?? I know, I know. I really am sorry, I didn't think of this earlier. What can I say, I'm an idiot, I had simply, forgotten, that you could write a letter to someone.

So?!! Does someone check if your nose is damp all the time? Are they cutting your freakishly quick growing nails every Sunday? And do you still get your occasional dose of liquor chocolate?

No? What can I say, not everyone is as AWESOME as me.

Anyway. You do know I'm not the average person. I mean I'm the only person we know that deliberately speaks softly while wearing loud earplugs. Sometimes, the music wont let me hear my own words, but to the world I'm this totally in-control-person, at least volume wise.

Ya!

But, dear friend what has happened over the last few weeks has been extraordinary even by my standards.

EXTRA-fucking-ORDINARY.

No, you stupid dog, I don't mean really really ordinary. No. No! Really, extraordinary.

The Write for The Remaining Silence, is a stellar blog. I know you feel it that way, I have seen it in your eyes ever so often. Be that as it may, I have not done a very good job of making enough internet friends to frequent this place.

And so, this island of scintillating literary achievement receives about fifteen visitors a day on average.

And then suddenly..

On the night of October 15th I get 413 visitors. By the next morning I have had 750 hits in less than 48 hours.

Now I know that this is one really brilliant blog. I mean it has moved girls to silly tears with stories like this. And won me sillier awards here. And much appreciation there. Sometimes it's even made me fall in love with myself. But it isn't SO awesome. I know you agree, I have seen even that in your wonderful eyes.

And so I do a little tehkikaat.

Cookie, www.slowtumblinglife.blogspot.com is now the internet's No. 1 Google Search item for "Awesome Torture Techniques".

First of all, WOW. I'm so cool!!! Right?

Second, I can't help but be a little scared about the whole thing. I mean I know the article doesn't endorse Torture, and is a silly and frivolous piece of writing mostly stolen from Wikipedia, but still.. Damn it! If it wasn't for this crazy (but also totally true) correlation between how awesome my life gets and the no. of visitors I have here every month I'd delete that post.

Third, Cookie, what kind of sick people inhabit this world? Who the hell searches for "Awesome Torture Techniques???" My God!

Fourth, surprisingly after two or three days the hits have fallen dramatically. It can mean only one thing. It's a fixed set of a 1000 folks that search for these keywords. Once they realised they'd not get their perverted kicks out of a family website like this, they have stopped bringing their disgusting asses here.

I say Cookie, these people should all be arrested for some solid questioning. WHAT YOU SAYS?

Which brings me to my final observation. Is life really awesome this month, with all these extra hits?

I don't know Cookie, the correlation is surprisingly intricate. Just like all these extra visitors came here without me having to move a muscle, life has been exceptionally awesome through sheer luck and past effort.

I'm doing a play. It is BRILLIANT. I have not has as much fun in a long time! :)

More about it later. Have to get into character before rehearsals.

Hey, if you have any tips on how I can be sexy and turn on a woman, that will be really helpful!

L.M.N.O Better the World for the Worse

L, M, N, O were all of six. Short pants, dirty hands, broken knees and good hearts. They were not like the other kids, though. L, M, N, O played separately, laughed sensibly and most importantly thought differently.

(This is not a poem.)

L - What would be best, you know?

O - What?

N - Robot-Slaves?

M - No! A machine that allows us, the whole world, to be caught in a single-day loop!

L - YES!!

N - Okay, that would be AWESOME.

O - Ya. What day will it be?

L - It's like this...

M - So we make this thing, and then we tell everyone a year in advance. So that we can all be prepared. And on that day we can all do brilliant things for 24 hours and then that's it.

L - Yes, we can eat ice-cream, the grown ups can have all their sex, no one will work, everyone will have a day full of pure fun.

M - And then we do that everyday, forever.

L - And no one will get bored, because every time we start afresh. So it will be like having this great experience for the first time ever.

O - I wont even go to school.

M - Of course you wont silly, we will be the same age forever. We won't need stupid school.

N - But..

L - What?

N - Don't you think this plan is flawed?

M - No?

N - Look, so you will announce it to the world a year in advance that, a particular day, will now be the ONE particular day forever. Very nice. Thank you! Enter the human mind. Dude? Everyone is going to want to have the BEST possible day ever. O, wont you want to slap that bully from school on that day?

O - Well, yes!

N - Let us imagine for a while that you do! Now the awful bully is going to try and hunt you down and get back because you have just hit him for eternity. O, my friend, you will spend the rest of forever running and hiding. Awesome??!

O - Oh!

N - What about the grown ups? They will all want to spend tons of money that day on everything in the world just so that they can really really enjoy themselves. But everything is going to be closed, no? The movie halls, the strip-bars, everyplace! Because no one will fancy being a stripping stripper forever, or the guy that sells popcorn down at the theatre.

O - AND, evil countries will probably spend the one year time, just plotting war. And then on that day missiles will fly around everywhere. And there you have it a never ending day of death and destruction.

N - Man. I tell you, such a machine is the worst idea ever. L, don't make one! The only good way to use it would be if we all slept through the day or watched TV. But that would be B-O-R-I-N-G!

M - I guess so.

L - Hmm. Damn!

M - Say, Robot-Slaves it is then?

N - Yes, of course. Totally.

L - Sometimes, these ideas bug me no end. I hope when I grow older I don't get them.

O - Stop reading about space-time being one forever defined loaf of bread. That just spoils everything.

N - I know.

L - Okay.

L, M, N, O then went about discussing the pros and cons of building a machine that gave us the ability to travel through time. A time-machine basically.

Kids!

seriously@whathashappenedtomylife.com

No really, wtf?

So get this, Sundays used to be these awesomely slow and lazy things just a few months ago. I’d wake up and then fall asleep and basically do this for a while. And then there’d be much wrestling with the dog and pillows, hours spent taking a dump while making stupid ipod playlists, cracking jokes about how boring my folks were (with my folks), and TV. Oh then I’d go with the driver to buy meat around the afternoon, then I’d cook the meat and then dog and I would eat it sitting in the balcony under the stars. Then I’d brush my teeth and floss and make a real night out of it and fall asleep listening to some music with the dog sleeping between my legs or over my head.

AND NOW???

First off, no dog! Seriously it’s driving me crazy. Dudes, I miss Cookie!!! It’s the truth! I miss her more than I missed my first girlfriend when she left for Purdue, (that was by far the sappiest relationship I was in.)

I mean I walk like a ghost around Delhi staring at all the nice dogs, somehow keeping myself from stealing one of them. I am one of those pathetic women that stare at babies. It’s sick!

But the brilliant thing is the dogs seem to sniff out my affection for them. The other day, I am standing in my brother’s porch and this awesome Labrador dog jumps over the gate of the house on the other side of the road and runs to me. You should have seen the lady-owner. She was SO jealous!

Slowtumblinglife brushes his teeth at night no more! His giant collection of flavoured floss organised by texture and then thickness lies ignored and completely unused. Really guys, I am neglecting my teeth. Who saw that coming? Huh? Who? I enjoyed flossing man, till my gums bled and my teeth were so smooth further flossing caused sparks to fly out of my mouth.

I’m no more that guy. *sniff*

Then there is thing about living alone. I’m becoming such a housewife. I worry about my clothes losing colour because I left them out in the sun for too long. I line up my glasses, spoons and forks every now and then and take roll-call because I’m convinced my cook is a thieving witch. I buy phenyl and harpic! I get my loos washed every day. I worry when my friends sit on my couch. I insist on using tea coasters. I change sheets. I carry a lunch box. I put leftovers in the fridge. I know where the friggin’ candles are!!! DUDES!!!

And Sundays aren’t the lazy slow motion days they used to be. MAN! Take today for instance. I have office-work to do. I have to go the bank and renew my debit card. I have to buy grocery and milk. I have to give my clothes to the ironing lady. I have to pay the maids their salary. I have to get my car serviced. Swati is visiting; I have to catch up with her. And I have rehearsals for my play. Then I have to meet the hommies and watch a movie, get drunk and go out and have a nice time. I have to ensure the cook makes dinner. BLOODY HELL!!!! I want back my simple existence.

Hmpf.

Oh are you wondering how I found the time to write this? Because, dear reader, things might change around me but slowtumblinglife’s life will forever be inherently tragic.

So last night I broke my middle toe. It’s the most pointless piece of my body. Why do we even have the middle toe? Seriously? So anyway… I can’t drive and I’m stuck at home. It's the worst! That’s the thing.

A Collective Understanding of Something (Anything) Strange

Umm… What surprises me, to this day is, well, is how I never think of him when I’m at home or working or with my children or on holiday or… or buying grocery.

No, it’s funny, I never think… Sometimes, sometimes I even… I tell myself I will but then, I don’t know for some reason, I…I… I don’t… It’s almost as bizarre as, you know… him? Ha.

But then as I get off the train and, umm, I guess even as it slows down for my station, he is… he is… he is all I have in mind. Just him! All the way, as I walk to my building, to my desk at work, there is this nothing else I think about.

Umm…

Things like, you know, the obvious… What? Why? How long?

No, no, no… I take it that he will be there. Same place, same clothes, same expression.

It’s one of the few things that are a safe bet nowadays. Hahaha! You know? With all these rumours of recession and the stock markets, it’s nice… Haha?

Okay, I’m getting late. Thanks. Thanks, dear. Will this be in the news? Oh?! Oh, thanks.

***

You know from where I sit at work, it’s the 39th floor and I can see him sitting there.

I have been with him since the beginning. Three years right? Three years! Can you believe that?

***

I think there is a lot we need to learn from him.

You know… why he selected this place? He sits before the busiest business centre in the country, perhaps the world!

That says a lot. He is saying a lot without having uttered a single word in all these years.

It’s a judgement. Here is this man, his silence, his stillness, mocking us. Our lives, our society and how all of us are just mere slaves of money.

That sort of thing.

Really, if you ask me, there is a lot we can learn from him. I have, you know, I value different things now. My family, my kids, my friends. You know the, the real things.

***

Of course now it’s much less of a spectacle. In the beginning it was crazy. Remember?

Some days, when I’m working late, and the office is almost empty, I walk down to the street for a smoke. And there he is; I stand before him, right before him.

Does he notice this?

Yes. Hahaha. I stand like I would before a painting.

And if it’s raining… That’s when it’s poetic.

His legs crossed at the ankles, and his fingers hanging between his thighs, like always. Except now there is rain. And he just sits there, soaked…

And when the winds gather pace, his shirt, that striped linen shirt, it starts to flutter madly. As if it’s trying to escape.

Ya, like it’s trying to run away.

If you look closely, he is as tranquil as ever. Maybe even more so.

And all the rain in the world and the strongest winds amount to nothing. Because that scrawny man sitting there won’t move. And he doesn’t protest. He just doesn’t take note.

Cars whizz by, colouring him in red and yellow and blue. And he won’t even blink.

I’m sorry.

***

Is it a message from God? Bah. You have all these crazy people queuing up before him, singing, lighting candles, leaving him food and clothes and flowers. The say the world will end the day he doesn’t turn up.

Woo-ooo-ooo.

That’s such a load of shit. He is just a smart man! Imagine being so famous, and rich, they say the newspapers pay him millions. They must be! And what for? For sitting on a fucking bench before offices where millions of people fucking work their asses off to earn a living. An honest motherfucking living. What a sick fucking bastard!

He is playing with us. I say they should put him in fucking jail. I know I’ll be the unpopular one around here, but someone’s got to stand up and say the motherfucking truth.

Message from God. Jesus Fucking Christ, eh? Jesus Fucking Christ!!

If he has a fucking message, when the fuck is he going to say it? After Judgement Day, eh?

What’s he waiting for? Motherfucker?!

***

That is as false an accusation as one can make. He has never taken any money from the offerings made at the site. We have round the clock footage of the man since the first day.

Well, yes, you’re right no one can say with authority that that was exactly the first day. But we are sure it’s pretty close. At this location, that is.

We are not sure if this has happened elsewhere.

He does pick a little food and occasionally, every few months, the odd piece of clothing.

Hahaha. We wish he’d take a little more. It’s a nightmare maintaining the area.

Err, yes, you are exactly right, we donate the rest.

Personally? I don’t know; I have no opinion on the man.

***

He gives us hope. There is peace in his eyes. They placed a crying baby in his hands once. They had to hold the little baby, because he wouldn’t.

After a while, the baby stopped crying! That’s amazing? Just like the movies.

No, it’s just him. The others are just losers who are trying to be like him. One of them idiots from downtown tried to sit outside our block, in the same way, he even wore the same clothes; he passed out in the heat by the afternoon. Asshole, was taken to the hospital. Haha.

***

On behalf of the people of this great nation, I wish Mr. Isaac Singer the best. I do hope he finds what he is looking for and the prayers of my family and me are always with him.

***

I think what bothers me is the lack of explanation.

I mean who is Isaac Singer? Why does he walk to that bench every morning to sit in the same clothes wearing the same expression for the last three years? What’s he trying to prove? When will he say something? Why is he doing this to himself?

And yet, these unanswered questions form the beauty of the whole thing.

You know what I’m waiting for, the day he says something, or doesn’t show up. The day the mystery unfolds.

And yet, that’s a day I dread more than any other.

Swing 39

It's raining! FINALLY!

Special ingredients for a totally rad morning -

1. Rain
2. Tea
3. Much time to read the News.
4. No Swine Flu, yet!
5. The company of a swag of brilliant humans.
6. Music of the following kind -

Conversations With Cookie - Same Old

Me: H-E-Y!!

Cookie: Hi.

Me: Long time, eh?

Cookie: Yeah.

Me: So, what's up?

Cookie: Same old.

Me: Ya?

Cookie: Hmm.

(Ya so basically, I think I am back!)

Cookie: So?

My Giant Foot (A Portrait of the Artist as a Loser)

So, I wake up one morning
And what do I find?
A giant right foot,
that’s always been mine.
How odd I say, to myself!
But finally, my own voice
To share with everybody else.

And the crowds gather,
as I let them know.
They stand in admiration
as the words they flow.

(Oh what fun!)

The circus??
Well, it continues,
I’m on the bloody TV and
there are even some reviews.
They have the nicest things to say,
Suddenly my smile is making
everyone’s day.

(I’m an awesome dude!)

And then one morning,
they finally decide
it’s time
to have one serious look
at my giant foot.

Collectively they sigh,
(SIGH!)
That's really not SO big!!
HAHA.
He’s only got it too close to
his bloody nose.

(A giant nose, albeit!)

And then they leave.

Now, I wake up every morning
with ordinary feet..

Sometimes, I look into myself
and God knows, it’s true,
my head is choked with stuff
that’s pretty deep.

But I get what’s best for me,
And so I go right back
to my bloody sleep.