There was once a fool who had to live under the scourge of knowledge that one fellow whom he absolutely could not stand was the one whose company he could never avoid! Himself! The fool hopelessly wanted to help Himself to reform but he had no control over the ways of Himself: him self’s lack of communication skills, incorrigible lethargy and worst of all, pride in his weirdness. Thus the fool loathed Himself whenever he noticed Himself wallowing in interminable reveries-that himself was the centre of a parallel universe where all eccentrics, daydreamers and sad poets lived; a universe where existed a time-space continuum. The fool was woefully ashamed of the ways of Himself. He attempted to coax Himself to realize that the parallel universe was fictitious; a creation of the lazy lunatic ensconced in the mind of Himself but the latter’s obstinacy was insufferably entreanched as his indolence….The fool told Himself, “Remember how when we were younger and enthusiastic, after reading poet Narendra Kohli’s interview in the Sunday Express we were so touched by his one quote that we had decided to make it the mantra of our lives-‘the aim of my life is to purify and improve myself.’ How can you let yourself lose your mantra, huh?”
Himself looked a trifle unruffled; shamefacedly replied, “I am, mmm, I wanted to feel the beauty of that quote too but I cant help myself…”
“Why cant you? Do you like to see yourself getting wasted? Why cant you fight your indolence, your lack of practical sense, your stupid expectations?”
Himself was now incensed; the fool had no business to be so mean to Himself who presently says,” Why do you detest me so much? Is there anyone who is flawless in this world?”
The fool was edgy now; yet he tried to reason with Himself, “No, no one is flawless but no one is as self destructive as you are and actually proud of the traits which would bring about your doom..”
“I am not proud at all.”
“Yes, you are. And self-centred too. You think material, practical world comprised of ‘normal’ people is a worthless place; it is your parallel universe invisible to everyone else is the utopia where all dreamers and poets and thinkers, dead and alive want to live. There freedom fighters and adventurers, reformers burnt at stakes and scientists ostracized as well as unhappy geniuses come from all continents and ages to bow before You, the empress…”
“This is ridiculous!”
“Dare you oppose me! Listen you idiot all your intellectual wordsmiths and sensitive heroes despite their dreaminess, were hard-working…they worked hard at whatever they were passionate about. But you only live in your stupid universe and make no effort to see how in the real world, in the tangible address of yours which is deonar, Mumbai, India , you are a wastrel…and how the inhabitants of this world where you physically live think you are an irresponsible weirdo!You..”
The Fool could not continue because Himself interrupted with a wild yell, “Stop! Stop typing please. Close that stupid word document you are typing our conversation in…I cant help it…what do I do?”
The fool had no reply; he stared helplessly at the mirror; he shut the document.
