SP sat on the last bench of his class. His place, SP’s place ,where SP sat and dreamt of all those things that no one from his class would ever think or dare to dream. It was some lecture going on. Lectures bored every one, the weak students, the bright students, the bright students who acted weak and the weak students who acted bright. But here in this class all except SP were sitting erect with a fake expressions on their face ‘ya, we are getting it!’ on their face. Lectures bored every single one. Lectures were for two reasons. One was to create boredom in ones life and the other was to brain wash individuals, but this lectures was more of washing the student’s brains of all realities and trying to bring up fake and made up stories or hopes that people don’t want to be a part of, but pressures from families, friends made them do it. Those fake expressions never got washed away but their brains….ya definitely.
Monsoons had just arrived but not to the fullest. Some times it would be dry and sometimes HE would piss all over and make the whole place wet. HIS bladders could never be predicted. It could burst anytime. Some minutes ago he lost HIS pressure and it was wet everywhere. SP looked out of the window. He noticed some drops of holy piss on the window bars that did not oblige to drop down. They did not want to let go of the cold metal bars. But those drops had to come down. GRAVITY always took them down. Like that rude and jealous guru who could never see his students be better than him or dream bigger and better than him. ‘GURU’TVAKARSHAN’(Gravity) as they call it in Sanskrit. Aakarshan(attraction) towards the guru could be dangerous. Its just like falling off a cliff and dying, even there gravity does its act. SP loved Sanskrit words. ‘GURUTVAKARSHAN’, From guru he came back down to earth, to his class.
He wished every one rose their heads up and take a view of nature, just outside the window. But no they wouldn’t because their attendance could be in danger. SP imagined a dusky beautiful woman seducing him from the lawns of his college, “Come SP dear, come”. He could hear her saying softly. But SP couldn’t, his attendance would fall if he went out to the climate he fell for.
Mother nature in any form, different season, different times always entertains us. It depends upon us to look at her differently. When nature word arrives, most think of mountains, the valleys, the rain forests when nature word arrives in their mind. But nature is just outside the classroom window we just have to just look out of the window. The reason why we cant recognize her is because she is brutally assaulted by us and our forefathers, so accept her in whatever form she is, because we are the reason for her deformity.
There was a live orchestra going on outside. Nature’s orchestra. No music could beat nature’s music. And the great musicians have taken inspiration from nature, by feeling it. Not only musicians but also philosophers, writers, artists, scientists and astronomers. Actually there is no field that is not inspired by nature. But most of nature’s children were interested to plug earphone into their ears rather then enjoy her sounds. Open your ears to her and jam with music being played around. Mother nature the conductor of her band and the birds, trees, high mountains and the low lying weeds, the fragrant flowers, the ignored stones, the animal kingdom all jamming together to create a meaning for existence. But in Her band its only we the humans who are the disobedient players who refrain ourselves from joining the jamming session. SP did not know weather people felt things like him, but surely from the expressions on their faces, he felt the obediently sitting mankind was being disobedient towards their conductor. Like a child being disobedient to his mother. But mother never minds and forgives. But when we go beyond the limit and don’t obey her she really gets pissed and then earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunami happen. SP did not sleep last night. He was thinking about his life and his dreams and now he was left with red and tired eyes. But he enjoyed the tipsy feeling you get when you feel sleepy but refrain from sleeping. SP was drunk without taking a drink. But here there was no chance of taking a wink, because nature was at her best form today, tough she looked a bit ragged and assaulted she looked beautiful.
Many great and well known souls, be it revolutionaries, freedom fighters, film makers went to jail. It was in jail where a persons creative part is born. Be it Jaffer Panahi or Mahatma Gandhi or Che Guevera or the latest Aseem Trivedi. To seize some ones freedom instigates him more to do what he wants to do. The want for freedom brings out the real us. And freedom lovers were very scanty in this class room.
SP had a theory_
If freedom was the opposite of bondage or attachment. And Love was the opposite of attachment. Then freedom and love would be synonyms. And attachment creates fear.
So, LOVE=FREEDOM=COURAGE & HATE=BONDAGE=FEAR
So you decide what you want.
SP felt like a prisoner, contemplating in the prison, like he was doing now. He was in a jail without bars, but with closed gates. It was indeed a unique prison where prisoners came in the morning and were left in the evening, but instead of running away they were forced to come back to the prison the next morning. Which prisoner when left free would come back to prison the next day. SP did. The rest of the class did. The students. And to survive in such prisons SARCASM was the only savior .
SP eagerly waiting for the bell to ring and his parole to begin, looked at the every ones face and gave them a smile with a nod.
