The band came on and introduced themselves as “The Modern Rockstars Of Planet Hinterland”. The man sitting next to me came close to me and whispered in my ears “Sorry, my name is A.C. Qureshi”. It felt kind of strange. Someone feeling sorry for the very fact of his existence. How unfortunate most people are. They live their lives in deep sleep. Never do they awaken. And then they die. And that’s it. End of story. How unfortunate to have missed the essence of existence, of discovering the wonderful nothingness of you. Sorry, I got to run. I am going cycling today to see Benares through my modern, moving eyes and a focussed mind. Focussed so that I don't crash in the wonderful chaos of Benaras traffic and all its children - the cows, the dogs, the beggars, the Muslims, the Hindus, and the other thousand or so “religious” people, the cycle-rickshaws (or riska’s as my boatman calls them). Oh and he said today that his mother’s operation was a riksy one. Funny how they slip unknowingly into what they call “a slip of the tongue”.
Ok, I am back. I didn't cycle, I just walked to the nearby thali place. The girl there was very very keen on looking at me. And she would rarely take her eyes off me. I just kept smiling at her. And she just kept looking. It was fun. Indra Okat has already made her presence felt thrice today. She is nice. I like Indra.
I have found it, I have found it. Although, it would be silly of me to try and put into words what it is that I have found. I realized something today and, that also, I really cannot translate into words. The translation of the hearts ways and movements into text form is a hard one to do, but something a few great thinkers and poets have managed to pull off to a certain extent. For this I respect them and their sensitivity to life. Their rejoicing and celebration through a sincere poetic medium is something that needs to be saluted. If it were not for these people, this world would be quite dull and “scientific”. Hail, hail my good masters of art. You are officially in the list of the Modern Rockstars of Planet Hinterland. You are in. You are Hinterland. I should be announcing a feast soon when the membership to Hinterland has outwitted (unfortunately not outnumbered, but only for the time-being) the so-called religious people of the world. If someone could fly a plane, one of those smokey planes, to leave vapour-trails that read “Wake up”. That could at least give a jolt, just a push in the right direction.
Ok, I am back. I didn't cycle, I just walked to the nearby thali place. The girl there was very very keen on looking at me. And she would rarely take her eyes off me. I just kept smiling at her. And she just kept looking. It was fun. Indra Okat has already made her presence felt thrice today. She is nice. I like Indra.
I have found it, I have found it. Although, it would be silly of me to try and put into words what it is that I have found. I realized something today and, that also, I really cannot translate into words. The translation of the hearts ways and movements into text form is a hard one to do, but something a few great thinkers and poets have managed to pull off to a certain extent. For this I respect them and their sensitivity to life. Their rejoicing and celebration through a sincere poetic medium is something that needs to be saluted. If it were not for these people, this world would be quite dull and “scientific”. Hail, hail my good masters of art. You are officially in the list of the Modern Rockstars of Planet Hinterland. You are in. You are Hinterland. I should be announcing a feast soon when the membership to Hinterland has outwitted (unfortunately not outnumbered, but only for the time-being) the so-called religious people of the world. If someone could fly a plane, one of those smokey planes, to leave vapour-trails that read “Wake up”. That could at least give a jolt, just a push in the right direction.
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