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Moved

December 9, 2009

No wine…just fiction…

> Wine Fiction

Off Air

November 19, 2009

Who is Kundun?

November 15, 2009

Kundun! He shouted and walked towards me. I saw reverence and admiration in his eyes. Tears too.

What do you want? I would have said. I said nothing.

Kundun, I found you at last!

I’m not Kundun. Who is Kundun anyway?

Don’t play that trick with me. I found you once. I’ll not let you go this time. Kundun!

Who’s Kundun?

You’re.

Me? I don’t even know what it means!

Haha…don’t play that game of yours.

Silence.

You’re from Tibet, right?

No…I’m from Bhutan.

Close enough.

Look mister, I don’t know who you – ?

Kundun! At last I’ll die in peace! Please empower me, purify me, help me cross the ocean of Samsara…liberate me.

But I’m not Kundun…who’s Kundun anyway? Excuse me.

So I left. I could feel his teary eyes following me, his face frozen in some smiles. All I could think was, who’s Kundun?

Then I knew. I laughed.

Shadows of questions

November 13, 2009

To hell with philosophy!

He was an angry man. Angry man is not a reasonable man. Reasonable man is religious.

He thew a copy of Za Patrul Rinpoche’s Words of my Perfect Teacher right to my face and demanded I studied them to perfect my devotion towards a teacher. Who that teacher was I never knew. He did not tell me.

Next thing I knew, I copied some passages from the book and pasted on the wall – a reminder that I must study the book. Instead I ended up reading Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra. I thought I was understanding the book when a question struck me.

Why do I do this? I thought without definite answer. I did not want any answer. I just asked because someone said wise man asked questions, the unasked ones. But mine was asked and unasked by so many minds – both sane and insane. I was not a wise man.

I doubted my master’s anger. I doubted so many of his temperements, even his smiles and kindness.

One day he called me into his chamber and told me to go away.

Where? I wanted to know.

It’s upto you. He said, smiling.

I left, hurt and lost.

So many questions. No answers.

Cabbages and Bamboo shoots

October 27, 2009

Nothing to eat. Cabbages and bamboo shoots. Cabbages lasted for a week. After that, bamboo shoots were all he would find.

He ate bamboo shoots in the morning, bamboo shoots in the afternoon, bamboo shoots in the evening, bamboo shoots in between. He ate bamboo shoots for weeks, months.

For some reason, he likened himself to a giant panda. The comparison shocked him and wondered if he was endangered too.

There was no mistake, he reflected sadly.

verdict

October 24, 2009

The judge was loud, bits and pieces of doma spewed out into the crowd. The crowd laughed. I smiled. The judge was furious. He could have just smiled and maintained a little decorum in the room.

You are worse than an animal. The judge judged me. I never saw any creature more precarious and snobbish than you.

It was an accident, I wanted to lie. Truth was stronger. I stayed with the fact that I killed a man.

The judge was straightforward with the verdict. Guilty as charged, he said, and awarded life imprisonment. He left the bench with a funny smile – one of dismay and disgust, one that says – I wish you rot in hell. Maybe he meant the prison.

I haven’t rotted a bit, but the toilet stinks, doesn’t it? And these mosquitoes, such tiny little creatures, such appetite for blood.

uses of lungs

October 23, 2009

Cheap cigarettes.

It was cheap because everyone could afford to buy and smoke too, said someone who was dull but important.

Moreover, he added, everyone has the right to die of cancer, yes the lung one or the mouth one and even the other ones. Cancer, like any other form of disease that took away your life, is a gift, a gift to know that you will die, he said beaming with self-satisfaction.

I did not understand what the hell he was talking about.

Broadly speaking, he continued, lungs have three uses,
– inhale
– exhale
– cancer