Dude! Where Is My Coffee?
The guests froze and the lounge became eerily quiet. All eyes were fixated on the body lying on the floor. Everyone was thinking the same thing: one of them had to be the killer.
Siddarth sat beside Mansi and looked at her widely open eyes. It had lost its magic and the twinkle in her eyes was gone. She was dead and he didn’t want to believe it. Just five minutes ago, they were sharing a joke and she had hit him. In a moment, she collapsed like a dry autumn leaf falling off a tree. She looked frail and drained of love, emotions, and life. She was gone. Just like that.
He took her on his lap and a stream of blood ran from her mouth. It felt warm, her blood.
“It would mean a lot to me if you come to the lounge party. My family and friends would be happy to see you,” he said as he stood at the door. It was their second date.
“Already? Isn’t it a bit too soon for us to be meeting each other’s family and friends?” she asked.
Siddarth took a step back and smiled. “I would understand if you didn’t want to come,” he said.
He looked around and his family and friends looked like strangers that moment. He felt out of place. It seemed as if Mansi was the only person in this world that he had known and he had a brief moment of loneliness.
“I want to come to the party,” she said when they met up for coffee two days later.
“Thank you,” he said as he stirred his coffee.
“There is something I need to tell you about my past,” she said.
“Is it going to affect our future?”
She was silent.
“If it is really something important that I should know about your past, you can tell. Otherwise I wouldn’t be interested in it,” he assured.
Siddarth looked at the broken glass pieces next to him. It must have been the drink.
“Who served her the drink?” he asked.
Nobody answered him. The crowd was still perplexed as to what had happened. Half the crowd did not know who she was. Half the crowd who knew her just a while ago did not know why she just died.
“You did,” his brother replied after a while.
Siddarth looked at his brother and his mind tried to race back in time to recollect what had happened. All his mind could manage was to crawl back slowly and decipher nothing at the end of it.
“Is everything fine?” Siddarth asked as they stepped out the movie hall.
“I get so pissed off when someone asks me that. Everything is fine,” she snapped.
They had not talked much that night. She was not in her elements, or so he thought.
“What do you want from me?” she asked breaking the silence.
“I don’t know yet. Aren’t we trying to understand each other to know where we are heading?” he said.
“Maybe we do not have a future together.”
“Why would you say that?”
She did not answer him. She left that night in silence leaving him behind with a million questions. He already saw signs of withdrawal in her.
Siddarth heard the sirens outside the lounge. Someone must have called 911. His eyes ran all over the floor for some evidence. All he could see was droplets of blood, broken glasses, her drink spilt on the floor and restless feet of others. He spotted her bag in the corner. He placed her body on the floor gently and waded through the crowd towards her bag.
“I don’t think I can do this. I must have told you this earlier, but I thought things would be fine between us. The more withdrawal symptoms that I see in you, the more I hurt myself” Siddarth confronted her.
“I understand.” That is all she said.
“Now what?”
“I guess we are done here,” she said.
“Is that what you want?”
She did not answer him.
“I can never decode your silence. Unless you express yourself we are not going anywhere.” There was a tinge of frustration in his tone.
“I told my family and friends that you would be there at the party tomorrow,” he continued.
“I can still come if you want me to,” she said with a smile sending him mixed signals.
He opened her bag and looked inside. The bag was empty and his suspicion grew. He opened the small zipper outside the bag and found a paper inside. It was a note she had left.
Siddarth,
I was sent to kill you at this party. I poisoned your drink. But now I have decided to drink it myself, not because I like you. I never did. I just had to act as if I was interested in you. I don’t think I can handle this anymore. My boyfriend is out there to kill you, Siddarth. He is here in this party. I hope he realizes his mistake once I’m dead. Or maybe not. I just have to do this. Save yourself.
Mansi
Upon Reflection
Akṣapāda Gautama’s Gurukul…
“What is the difference between good and evil Guruji?” I asked.
Gotama replied without opening his eyes,” Good is what you do onto others without expecting anything in return which is beneficial in its effect. Evil is what you do with the intent of harm onto others.”
I absorbed what was said and queried further, “Guruji, why is it important to do good deeds and not what is called evil?” Gotama still did not open his eyes. He never got tired of the questions his Sishyas came up with. But over the years his responses had become stereotypical. He replied,
”Young one, I have already introduced you to the theory of causation. You should have inferred by now that cause and effect should be homogeneous in nature, and yet the effect is a new beginning and was not already contained in the cause.”
I was ready for this response. I had contemplated for half a year now and this was the way I had decided to draw out Guruji. I responded,
”Guruji, I have been doing something for six months now. I steal half a liter of milk every day because I know like clockwork the cowherd’s schedule. The conundrum has stupefied both Mataji and the Cowherd as to why the cow has been giving half a liter of milk less for the past six months as he knows through inference of the milk giving capacity as related to the weight of hay fed and its ankle size. Now though the Cowherd does not say anything in front of Mataji he curses the cow when alone for his repute is at stake. If I did not confess now nobody would ever have known. I did so called evil deed and yet other than the silent curses there was no other effect. And I am also at peace with myself. And yet it is evil… What is that explains this situation?”
Gotama opened his eyes,” Young one… what is it that you seek?”
I replied honestly, “The truth Guruji…”
Gotama said” Young one, it is time for you to continue your journey. I have imparted all the knowledge that I can… I can give you an answer but you will not accept it because you want to back anything that is said through the experiment of self.
But young one- Do not forget the primary knowledge of Causality that I have imparted. In the case that you present your inference of the effect was easy because the inputs were controlled. Remember that young one.”
I was scared at the answer that I got for this was not what I expected. But I said Abhivadhaye and asked, “Guruji, what is it that I can offer as Guru dakshina… “
Zen Arcade- 2000 so years later…
Have you ever heard of the band Husker Du? They came out with this album in the eighties called Zen Arcade that changed the phase of music. Almost every decade had such an album one could argue but it (actually an album, a book or a movie) takes meaning when one comes across the idea being presented for the first time in his or her life. The album followed the adventures of a disoriented young kid who is disillusioned by his parents and the environment he is in and decides to head out into the world to seek the truth. As the album progresses so did the young kid – he experiments with sex, religion and drugs along the way and then returns home, apparently back to square one, having discovered the world outside is even worse than the” safe haven” that was his family. The album ends with a ghostly song called “Recurring Dreams”. To me everything in the album made sense. I have always toyed with this idea. What If there is no ultimate truth? But the thing is each has to experiment in order to prove to him or herself. Some of us accept it after a little experimentation that we have found god and ultimately it will be revealed as to why is that things happen as they do. Insanity I say! But what is the alternative.
I had an alternative that I had pondered with for years together now… and it made sense….
1930 years ago…
It had been thirty years since I had left the Gurukul. And yet I found myself walking into the valley again. Guruji was on the throes of death and had summoned me. I somehow did not feel pity at his shriveled old body when I saw him. I had found that death did not affect me as much as life did. I don’t know why but over the years I had learnt that dealing with my inner thoughts was the first step to learning to deal with others. I touched his feet and sat beside him.
He whispered,” Young one … “and he looked at me fondly. He continued,
”What is it that you have learnt? Tell me…. “I looked at him with almost anger…. “Nothing Guruji… absolutely nothing! I do have a better understanding of the world around me or the people that reside here. But the question that I asked you years ago still hounds me. And now I have thirty years behind me to make a perfect argument that even you Guruji will not be able to counter. Yet I cannot get myself to do something truly evil” I sighed.
Guruji smiled at me, “Young one to me it was not as much as finding the answer as developing tools of thought. The fire you had in you and that still burns in you burns in me even as I feel death come upon me. I am sure you have by now thought about…. “And I looked at him… it was not possible… how could he possibly know! And he smiled and continued, “There is one explanation that conscience must hold the true answer to all that… “
1945 years since the Gurukul was left for the first time
I stood there observing a two week old kitten. He was furiously scratching the concrete floor and looking confused and then sat upright and… I yelled, “Bad Kitty!” The next day I saw a similar confused scratching and I carried him outside and put him on the ground. He continued to scratch and then I realized he wasn’t scratching but digging. He dug a neat hole and the sat in the in thehole and did his thing. When he was done he got up and covered his poop with mud making sure the hole was filled! I was pretty amazed and it got me thinking. I wondered about the preprogramming that was innate to every living thing. I contemplated the concept of conscience and how it hounded humans into doing the right thing in more cases than less. Where is it that this was passed on from for you were born with it. I wondered.
1930 years before the Husker Du incident:
I looked at Guruji and said, “But you have never fed that idea to me Guruji.” I was a little out of my element. Guruji smiled,” Young one, the day that you put forth the conundrum for the first time I inferred you would reach the same conclusion.
But I had to wait for the experiment to happen and confirm the result. So what is it that you concluded?
Did you reach the same conclusion? The only way to truly break away from conscience and yet not affect causality!
I slowly replied, “I think Yes… that you …. “I stuttered a bit”You… ummm commit…“
He looked at me eerily and completed, “SUICIDE! But how? But how? … How do you create the perfect accident?” I looked at him and whispered… and with that he took his last breath … I got up.
1930 Years before the Husker Du Incident and at that time too
I walked into the empty space. It was time to commit the act. But it was very important to create the right conditions. It meant freedom. True freedom. Maybe many people had come upon this conclusion and had carried it out. But the knowledge truly remained a secret because no one had lived to talk about it. Ha! I smiled ironically. All knowledge that Is passed on can only be applied with the physics of this world that surrounds us i.e., the interaction of Purusha with Prakarthi. But that was all an illusion and the conclusion that I had independently reached had been inferred by Guruji as well. It had to work!
I walked into empty space. It was time to commit the act. But it was important to create the right conditions. It meant freedom. True Freedom! Maybe many people had come upon this conclusion and had carried it out. But the knowledge truly remained a secret because no one had lived to talk about it. Ha! I smiled ironically. It had to be done this way; the inference of the kitten was but the start point. This was the only way to let’s say short circuit the system!
The conditions were right. I had planned every detail to the second; death came at all simplicity and…. I was free! I opened my eyes…. I was blinded and I heard a voice….. A strange form of communication but I somehow understood, “You almost got away the very first time you tried this… To think! Ha!” I felt a sort of eeriness… It was unbearable….
A baby was born somewhere… somewhere… and she cried…
Note:“Filarial was listening to two bands as he inferred the truth- “Pavement” and of course “Husker Du”. He likes to back his fiction with facts.”
–Filarial
