Table No. 21

Hidden motives that are deep rooted in our subconscious aren't revealed properly for a long duration of time into our life. We rarely realize the meaning behind some of our major actions and decisions. The cause. The reason.

Today, as I watched the movie and howled like a baby after (wait, before you roll those eyes) it wasn't because of an immaculate script or brilliant screenplay or even impeccable originality. It was because it finally portrayed in an Indian context how the weak are always exploited.

Hold it right there though. Not the weak. The vulnerable. Or more correctly, in today's society - the innocent. The predators always preys on sheep and lamb and gazelles, for they're an unfit match. Inequality screams all around us in the animal world and we justify our actions by the same. What we ignore very casually is the fact that whereas animals do it for survival, we do it for mere sadistic pleasure.

Just because you can exploit the innocent, doesn't mean you should. Just because you have the power to hurt someone, doesn't imply you use it to cast the final blow. It's sad really that man is an animal that preys on another man. That society teaches us all across the world to step on the shoulders of others in order to climb a personal ladder. 'Progress for the sake of progress must be denied' rings out in my ears for I've been an avid Potter fan. But I'm not just talking about the mad rat race we're all a part of. I'm talking about exploitation and extortion and humiliation of the innocent. The rape of a person's self esteem and respect because he is your junior. I'm talking about any sort of pleasure that we derive in demoralising and ridiculing another human. Any sort of abuse, physical, sexual or mental that we inflict upon another person just because of a personal bias for which we ourselves are responsible.

We as a society are ruining lives. We as humans are failing to live up to our very name. The deranged and attention seeking individuals will find a target, any target to douse their constant need for pain infliction. And is there a solution ? What does cinema offer us ? A revenge plan which is unachievable and far too fancy to ever be put to action by a common man.

A Wednesday gave us a solution to terrorism. Khosla ka Ghosla gave us a solution to property theft and forceful ownership.
Revenge (a drama series from USA) gave us a solution for wrongful incrimination.
Now Table No. 21 gives us a solution to ragging.
The one thing common to them all ?
They are all impractical illusions of the creative mind.

These solutions are more frustrating than the problem itself. What are we as a society accepting then ? That only power and money can bring us justice or somewhere close enough to make the actual criminals realize their mistake ? That this is a vicious cycle with no end ? WHAT exactly ?

The real and only solution is accepting the existence of the abnormal in human behaviour. Identifying it, classifying it and then treating it. If a 10 year old could decide to become a psychiatrist just because she saw what all was wrong in the world, then it's time we as a society and nation embark upon the age of psychological awareness and right the wrongs that we have been committing.

If not now then when ?
If not like this then how ?

Until we can change the psyche of the polluted and imbalanced minds - the horizon which claims of a new tomorrow is going to remain just that - an impossible meeting point of land and sky which cannot exist in real life.

What was it like ?

My shuffle reminded me of him this morning. You could say I've been having thoughts for a couple of days now. It was so odd.. An out of body experience of sorts where I didn't even remember why this song meant so much anymore. Such a distant memory that instead of gnawing at my insides with nostalgia, it left me sort of haunted for the lack of it. I don't remember feeling what I felt.. The butterflies, the jitters, the love.. It's as if my favourite memory of us has just vanished into thin air.

It was always this long vacuum of nothing without you, a nothing that eventually led to my something - namely you. And now as the notes washed over me there was no pain, no twinge of sadness, no numbness even. An absolute nothing.

It scared me.

If the one thing that meant so much to me has lost the power to affect me have you managed to kill the little girl afterall ? All these efforts to keep her alive but is she the distant memory I should be weeping for ? Has the world finally gotten to her ?

It's alright to miss him, I tell myself. Just to evoke an emotion. But it's not coming. I replay all the harsh words, the unnecessary slandering and the self-actualization reaches a new peak. There are no tears for I cried them all. There is no pain for I've felt it all. There is no looking back.
If I look back I'm lost.

So are you, isn't it ?
This is why we keep running forward.
Further and further away from each other.
Ensuring in our own complicatedly dubious ways, that our paths never cross.
That we never chance a glance upon in the other in the terror as to what it'll unfold. The eyes. The smiles. The love.

And that's the biggest tragedy of them all.

The streets of my lover.

I try and speed by but I find myself slowing down as I take the turn into your lanes. There is so much history here that I can't seem to just pass it by. There's a white temple and stray dogs and an army sign.. There's us. If I concentrate hard enough I can see us walking these streets, hand in hand, not a care in the world. We were so simple then. Innocent. The world had yet to scar us and leave us forever in doubt. I can't avoid feeling pity for our young selfs. How deluded were we ? Did we actually kid ourselves into thinking this would last forever ? That the circumstances wouldn't take their toll and redefine life for us altogether. Did we honestly believe that we'd never question motives and needs and desires ?

I hate these lanes and yet I find myself walking them often. They're home. There's such a thing as familiarity and the comfort it brings. So much so that I don't even need you here - just these streets are enough. I remember running up to you and hugging you when you'd turned around to leave. I remember being kissed on the forehead for the first time. I recall the morning when I dragged you out of bed just to watch you sit and grumble about it. I remember all our shades of innocence.

Of all the times I have been in love (or believed I was in love anyway) I don't think it was ever more innocent. Much has been said about a girl's first love. I find myself wishing I were an exception but I'm not. This is your month darling and I carry you with me. You never could leave me behind you know. Our hold was just too strong and my pull... Well you never could stay away.

I secretly wish you never can.