THE BIG FAT RAT

I just learned that you Standing-on-two-legs-large-no-tails call me the Big Fat Rat. I am grateful for being called Big, as it implies a great respect in us beings, though it is difficult for me to understand why you would use big and fat in the same name as they mean almost the same thing, don’t they? May be it’s my lack of a proper education. You see, I never had a teacher, like those mad gatherings you have in places you call schools have for you. You know, I have always wanted to ask this. How come all of you wear the same Wrappings-that-are-so-tight when you go to these schools? I mean whenever we have any gatherings amongst us, we sharpen each our nails so differently, to show off our individuality you know, don’t you guys do it?


Anyways, I want to take some time to tell you things about me, and it would do you well to know since you always seem to be ignorant to any existence beyond your own. May be that’s why God took away your tails, because they would have stopped wagging or going up suddenly or doing anything because of your sheer lack of emotion for others. May be God should not have taught you to stand on two legs, that ways you would not have become so high, and may be then you would have noticed other beings, and have some emotion for them. You know, most of the others hate you because of the way you trample the little-six-legs-no-eyes-smell-followers. But I know something else. Not all of you are all that bad you know, especially those little-chubby-no-tails, may be because they are not so high like the others.


You know, like most of you no-tails, some of us also like to tell stories. May be there is something common in us after all. Today, I want to tell you a bit of my own story. The oldest memory of myself I have is one where I used to play around in our family grounds with my cousins, there were three of them. Sharp-tooth, who used to be especially naughty you know, long-legs, he was the fastest runner amongst us and always beat us at all our games, dark-hair, who used to be the eldest and always the gentle and the responsible, and they called me run-over, because I had a tendency to run-over things because I am so Big you know. Not the way you do, only things, not others. We used to play in these barren grounds for hours and hours, before some of you people came and made this vicious jungle out of our grounds. Everyone of our family went away then, looking for new grounds as you had robbed us of our home. But I stayed. May be because I was too lazy to go. It has been such a long time since then I don’t even remember why I really stayed you know. I don’t even know if all my family is alive anywhere or not. Do tell me if you see them anywhere, I would love to meet them you know.


But I like this place. This massive jungle that some of you only made. And there are so many of you around here all the time. Though, I don’t understand why you ever come here? With all your bags packed and ready, you come here and wait for hours, and then happily move out to the graveyard, where that massive-many-winged-noisy-fly awaits you all, which eats you all up and then flies away. I think there are many of those birds, though I admit I have always been too scared to find out for myself. I think all of you go to the graveyard in search of a passage to the other side, and there must exist one, because I have noticed some of you coming out from the graveyard, tired, looking for your bags, may be coming from the other side. Although I also think I once saw the massive-many-winged-noisy-fly vomiting some of you out through it’s tongue and then you came back. I don’t understand that. May be the noisy-fly doesn’t- like the taste of some of you no-tails. Talking of bags though, I don’t understand why so many of you He no-tails keep staring at those she no-tails who also always use those similar Wrappings-that-are-so-tight around them are always moving around the jungle, with their bas moving following them. Those bags weirdly behave as dogs you know, always following those she no-tails.


Did I tell you about the foolishness of some of those no-tails who keep tying cords around your bags so I cannot reach into your bags and find some foods amidst all the garbage you throw in there. They don’t know that although sharp-tooth was my cousin, my teeth are sharp enough for their stupid cords anyway. I always laugh at them when I take some of your food away. Sorry, but I have got to feed myself no.
What I never understood was, when all of you are sitting in the jungle waiting for your turn to come to the graveyard, why are you always so happy. I mean you are going to the graveyard after all. May be you are happy to see so many no-tails together.


The other day, there were these no-tails who were here all night, and made so much noise I couldn’t sleep at all. There was this guy who smelled so bad even I couldn’t go near him, and he was all tipsy, falling here and there. May be he was sick. May be he was going to die soon so he was going to the graveyard. May be the noisy-fly would also get sick by eating him. Then there was a set of he and she no-tails who held on to each other’s front legs all the time. You know, I think I have seen some of no-tails do that before as well. There were those two very old she-no-tails who kept walking to and fro all night. I think I heard them say they were doing it to not sleep. I don’t understand why they would not want to sleep? But they were very slow walkers, like they were sleeping while walking anyway. I could easily take 6 rounds of the area by the time they took one. Weirdly, they never went outside my part of the jungle till morning. May be they knew this is the only safe part, where the noisy-fly can’t even see you. That is why I always stay within the lines of this part, which I have come to call as my part. There was also this old he no-tail who had so much of that drink that comes out of that hole on that tube coming out of the red tree that is at so many places in the jungle. You no-tails sure can drink a lot I learned that day. There was a group of 4, no 5 no-tails who were clustered around each other. May be they were a family. I miss my family a lot. There was this huge tall he no-tail sitting in one corner. I think he was reading a book. He sat all alone or a while. After a while, a she no-tail also came there and sat next to him. They didn’t talk for a long time. I don’t understand why when so many of you are here you don’t talk amongst each other. That is what you are supposed to do in gatherings no? Anyway, after a while those two no-tails in the corner started talking to each other. Though every time one of them was not looking, the other would smile as though they had just won some big game. I didn’t understand that.


Alas, there were so many of you here that day but I couldn’t find any food. I was hungry. I suddenly saw the family of no-tails eating something. I rushed towards the food because I was so hungry. They all jumped. And as you no-tails always do on seeing me, dropped the food. Good for me no, though I don’t understand why you are scared of me, when you are so huge yourself.


I was very happy after that. One, because I got good food. Two, because all you no-tails here that day finally started talking amongst each other. It’s so good to see a gathering like this where every one talks. I wish there were others like me I could gather around. I think all of you were talking about me. Some of you were laughing. I don’t understand how you can be scared of me one minute and laugh another. Though it’s good to see you laugh. We cousins used to laugh a lot too. There was this she no-tail who started running after me with a stick in her hand. Her wrappings were so tight; she couldn’t even come close to me. But it was fun to make her run. After that all of you started laughing even more. I was very happy to see you laughing. I tried to come and see may be if I can talk to you, but you started jumping every time I came close. So I sat in the corner and saw all of talking. And whenever you would go quiet, I would come again so that you some of jumped again. And then all of you would talk again. Some of you tried to chase me, but run-over is too fast for any no-tail on this land. I watched you no-tails for a long time that night. Till you all went away one by one to the graveyard, which made me sad. After that I slept. I was at least happy that I had managed to get all of you to talk in the gathering. You should always talk.


I thought about saying all this today because I was reminded of that day as the he no-tail who was reading a book that day in the corner is back today. The she no-tail is not with him anymore. May be the noisy-fly ate her, or may be she got to the other side. I hope she did. He has also brought something some of you no-tails who have too many Wrappings around them often bring to the jungle. It looks like a book but it shows TV on it. You no-tails have amazing things you know. You know there was SRK on that TV today, and he was looking so good. Why are you wondering how I know SRK. Common, everybody knows SRK.


By the way, since you no-tails are scared of me, let it be known, that just before the land of the noisy-fly, the graveyard, lies another forsaken land, of one Run-over, the one you refer to as The Big Fat Rat. You all no-tails are always welcome to the jungle of this hairy-tail, given that you bring food for the mighty owner. I like sweets. I thought you should know that.


The Big Fat Rat.
Address: The jungle of the noisy fly.

P.S. I just learned you people call this place "airport", whatever that means.

MELANCHOLIA

A collision leads to a transfer of momentum. My physics teacher must have said that a thousand times. I understood him the other day, sitting on a railway platform in a small village, the eternal backdrop of the recently glorified Indian nation. I was sitting there because I was scared to stay in this village till late in the night. It turns out; there are still places in this country where we have separate food joints for Hindus and Muslims. You see I am a Hindu, who was sporting a French beard, which somehow signified to the locals that I am a Muslim. I was scared what collision might happen in the neighborhood because of the confusion. I was scared because the scorn in the voice of the shopkeeper who had just stopped me a while ago when I was entering a food joint was so palpable, I could feel it almost as real as the clothes I was wearing. While getting into the restaurant, he had stopped me to shout, “ tumhe hindu restaurant jaana hai ya muslim.” Confused, I looked up and saw the name of the restaurant: “Maa Tarini Hindu Hotel.” That is when, fearing the transfer of momentum which may create a chaos if a collision happened on this account, I rushed to the railway station.

I was sitting on the station, waiting for my train, trying to get my thoughts away from my fears. A fast nonstop passenger was due to pass through track number three, before my train came on it, the village where I had just had my enlightening experience being too insignificant for the train to stop there. Another fast moving train, a “maal gaadi” filled to the brim of the coal rushed on to the platform on track number 4. Its speed was so great that it looked like a mad beast on a mission, roaring through the station. At the same time, the nonstop passenger rushed onto track number three. The collision between the air in the platform and the onrushing trains was so great, that I felt the platform itself shaking, the vibrations of air from one train to another moving my whole being. I am overwhelmed by the transfer of momentum that must have happened in that insignificant yet palpable air to make me feel what I was feeling. I looked at the people around me. Each one of us for those few instants at least had the same feelings, irrespective of our backgrounds, religions, occupations, economic status, we all felt shaken. And then we all lapsed into our own beings once again. The sole beggar at this time on the station, looking with a longing towards a group of people, half wasting their food, in an attempt to jump at it at the same time. Friends, having fun I guessed. The hawker readying his basket of local made delicacies, for the oncoming train, in hope to try and get into the sleeper or ac compartments, where at least some may buy his product, and he may go home with more than those very delicacies with him. The railway policeman, uninterested in whatever was happening around him, probably worried about some issues of his personal life. The “stallwala” fellow, beaming with a sense of pride, probably because he had managed to secure a stall on the station that was probably the singular biggest achievement by anyone in his family line. A procession of people, with a groom with his bride at the head, both of them oblivious to everything but each other. A smart man, wearing a tie, working with a calculator and a sheet of paper, hoping his boss won’t call before he finishes the report. Life for each one of us had taken different collisions, and thus momentum had taken each to it’s different course.

May be I was remembering my physics teacher too much that day.

For those few instants that those trains were passing in opposite directions on my two sides, I had many other souvenirs from the past coming before me. In each window of that passenger train, I could see someone or the other of my friends, from whom I was so far away. On the coal bearing beast’s sides, I saw memories of our family gatherings. I used to love being with my friends. On one window, I saw a picture of seven men, with their feet over a stone, assuming a mock oath. The fateful stone of bachelorhood we guys had called it. Ironically, it was the stone exactly in front of the girl’s hostel in college. On the next window, I see a huge group, playing cards on the roof of the library they had somehow managed to surmount. The pantry car passed, and on it’s windows was painted the DLP Canteen. I could almost smell the maggi and the aloo pyaz paranathas. On the other side, on the coal bearing steel, I saw a kite shaped like a rooster, soaring all alone, like a king in the sky, its string being passed amongst us brothers and our sister, on our rooftop. A party in our city’s “revolving restaurant”. The broken shards of the tube-light, which had suffered the misfortune of being in the way of our cricket ball. There were many more pictures, although how so many of them managed to come upon in those few instants is a credit to the pace at which the human brain can function. All that is so distant now. Somewhere a momentum shift had happened, taking everything so far away. I hope another shift happens soon, taking me back closer. I really hope so.

Sitting there, the word Melancholia came to my mind. A state of sadness, that’s how my friend had described it. The state that was this city, the states that were our different lives, the state that was the distance between me and my close ones. Melancholia. I doubt my physics teacher even knew this word, though I am sure he must have felt it. Each one of us has. Such is Life.