Where The Mind Is Without Fear…

1984. The word was Fear. We had Operation Blue Star, the subsequent assassination of Indira Gandhi, the resulting Sikh Riots and the completely unrelated but equally devastating Bhopal Gas Tragedy. Events which instilled all kinds of fear in our minds. Fear of fanatics using religion as a universal justification. Fear of safety of our lives irrespective of who we are. Fear of being targeted as individuals / communities for ours or others beliefs. Fear of unexpected ‘negligent’ events scarring generations to come.

Half a century ago George Orwell had artistically fantasized that 1984 would be the year when perhaps the worst Fears of all would come true. Where will you run or hide? Big brother is watching. What is it that actually happened? History and facts change everyday. What is right and what is wrong? It is all Doublethink. What do you think? Doesn’t matter there is Newspeak.

Orwellian 1984 is yet to come alive but the Fears that it brought to life are not hard to imagine. And therein lies an interesting thought. Innumerable times in life we are held back by our Fears. But more often than not these Fears are imagined. They reside in our minds and prevent us from doing so many things that we want to do. We hesitate. We procrastinate. We deliberate. Time flies by and our Fears keep growing. Bit by bit they bear us down until we are dragging ourselves through life.

Amidst all these Fears, 1984 was also the year Queen came out with one of my favourite songs. The opening line is enough. We all want to break free. Break free from all our Fears. Most people try. Some succeed. And then there are those who even fear trying because of their fear of failure. The cycle is vicious. And I am caught in it.

The Shah Of Blah

Blah! Blah! Blah!

Another night. Another party. Another balcony. Another person. Same old stories.

NDTV We The People... Long weekend ahead and nothing to do... Mighty Man hadn't seen the wonder... With no luggage and scarce money got onto a Roadways bus... Checked into a 100 a night room at midnight... Its Eid so entry is free... Escaped four TTs without tickets in 3AC... In under 24 hours and Rs. 500 we were back to base... Btw, we saw the Taj...

Uttam's election losing (mind you not winning) party... Bishen tried killing every dog on the road... Cops stopped us outside Hindu... Tyagi was drunk and puking... We were in for it that night... Driver steps out and puts something in his pocket... "Hum police hain hum aapki checking kar sakte hain"... "Main koi terrorist hoon. Check karna hai. Ye lo check kar lo"... Off come the pants....

ISC physics practicals... Vernier calliper we hadn't used for 2 years... Ran after Kiki across the corridor... Door slammed shut.... Cut my hand.... Trail of blood till the hospital... "Don't even think about writing for a week"... Math exam in 2 days... Two pain killers before and three in between... Slept for 18 hours straight... Still finished Comp practicals before anyone... Invigilator thought I was shamming... Landed up with a 95 in Physics... And guess what, I didn't have to count it...

Same story. Same people. Same situation. Same narrator. Different version every time.

A pinch of masala. A touch more next time. And a bit more...

Voila! The dish gets better and better. Mostly true. Some figments of imagination. A lil bit of rambling. This that and everything.

But whats better than entertaining the same people with the same story multiple times? Or even boring them for that matter? Spinning a 'shabdon ka jaal' has its own fun. Stories recounted over and over again bring back memories and mostly fun ones. There is a rush to the head like no other. A high that is difficult to match. An escape that eases away all morbid thoughts.

The Shah of Blah is back! So till more Blah Blah Blah...

P.S. My advice to all those who are deliberating reading Rushdie or stopped reading him halfway through Midnight's Children, start with Haroun And The Sea Of Stories and let the Shah of Blah charm you into an unparalleled world.