Voices of fantasy

Image source: trialx
Image source: trialx

She had heard them before. They were all there with each a story to tell; stories of wishing wells, stories of magic carpets, stories of talking mirrors, stories of flying elephants, stories of how the sea had turned yellow, stories of a world under the sea and stories about girls who heard voices from the unknown. She believed and so they came. She loved to listen to them. And when she sat up cuddled in her bed or her rocking chair all alone in her room, they would come. An invitation was just not the criteria but they weren’t quite pleased when logic surpassed fantasy. They and she were often amused at the voices of reason outside her room. Skeptical scoundrels!

And then they would begin, taking turns and sometimes pausing a little bit for her. She would jump and clap at the enchanting new world discoveries, she would howl or weep silent tears at losses or separation but best of all, sometimes she would laugh involuntarily. At times like these, they understood. They could feel the joke on her bones; the sick jokes of rational behavior, the stale jokes of believing a mirage and the eternal joke of her hallucinations. But at times like these, the ‘others’ failed miserably.

The others had misapprehensions and weird notions of reality. It is this ‘others’ that sought to destroy her from herself. And they classified the ‘others’ as foes, as the stereotypical villains in their stories. But they couldn’t save her for the only protection they could offer was to come to heal her loneliness, to tell her stories from other worlds, to paint her dreams, but most of all believe in themselves so that she could believe in herself.

And when in midst of a story, she had any questions, they would respond at once without her having to ask. They could read her thoughts just as it generated with an uncanny precision known only to her. They knew her inside out; they could feel the rhythm in her veins, the impulses that soared through her back and forth, the voices of reason losing over the voices of fantasy and the myriads of colorful vibrations that enveloped her form. They would sing or dance or just rejoice at the triumphant voices of fantasy.

But then her doctor would visit and spoil it all.

He had to come every fortnight or else the voices of reason would be forever lost. He injected her with a syringe and some liquid matter coursed through her veins, right to her brain like a shot to them. They at once ducked these liquid bullets of rational illusions. They, the voices of fantasy had to survive, for in their destruction lay her end and that was something they were not prepared for. They wouldn’t let the ‘others’ win. They fought with the chemical bonds in the liquid which would invariably break off. So this war would last for a week and then suitably diminish around the next week.

That’s the time her doctor would visit again as per schedule. The ‘others’ could never win nor could they get rid of her ‘schizophrenic voices’.

I have a dream…

All of us do – just that one dream to live for! Mine keeps waxing and waning along with the germs up there, now you know where. The same old culprits who play Pac-man with the map I so painstakingly etch in my mind. As I was day dreaming for today’s quota, as per my personal timetable, I had an ‘idea’ and what an idea, sirjee! Also to mark the moment, a light bulb did flash – ting!

What if, the scientists at NASA take up my case on priority and keep those goddamn space aeronautics studies on hold and provide me some ‘navigational’ moral support in my space? Come on, guys! Can’t you devise a gadget and insert into my brain, much like the game Pac-man, only the villains would be the new heroes. It would work somewhat like this: I draw my map, the nasty germs begin gobbling it up, the gadget is triggered to shoot little things (I don’t know what to name them but have envisioned them like the ones in picture), these things will go right after the germs and gobble them back, yeah, that sounds so good… Tit for tat!

My map would be secure and losing my way would be a thing of the past. I could then also volunteer as a guide for this otherwise complex metro. Yey! There must be a few thousands like me at least, and the additional thousands in the form of harassed passers- by who have to go out of their way to show us our way. Considering these large numbers, it is definitely a noble project worth taking up to ensure world peace.

And I do know about GPS enabled gadgets which work along with google maps but what about a tiny creak of a road, the kinds where the tiny creeps in my brain will have a field day? Either, you customize google maps for me, or you make my tiny Pac-man fighter and I’m sure this would be akin to moonwalk for you. So, all the best, guys! And, do not give moronic excuses like – we don’t do this, we love rocket science, etc.

My weight-gain program!

OK, I am 6 kgs lesser than the ideal weight required as per body mass index and I too won’t tell you what my current weight or height is. Numbers are just that…senseless finite measures in an otherwise incomprehensible infinite universe! Though you may take a guess…even a moronic actor like Tusshar Kapoor can carry me but if he dares to do so, I swear I would claw him to pulp with my 1-inch nails! I am slim and daring but only not the healthy weight.

Now, coming to the weight-gain program designed by me, my action points are simple and derived from logic: Do the opposite of everything that is prohibited in all weight loss programs. So I checked Dr. Nigam’s, VLCC, Pretty slim clinic and a few others with quite impressive punchlines ‘Lose 8 kgs in 45 days or your money back’!! All they talk about is proper controlled diet and hell loads of exercises. So, it’s got to be the ‘eat and eat till you drop to sleep’ mantra for me then! What happened later is another story…

I have been gulping just about everything ever since I became aware of being underweight to the point that I got digestion related disorders, lactose-intolerance related disorders and not to mention my extreme affinity towards ‘rich’ foods – I began having a bar of chocolate every other day! Sadly, nothing had worked to the point required and I had been able to gain only one kilogram. One kg may be significant when you are in a weight loss program but trust me its nothing in a weight-gain one! Even stretch jeans look comfort fit on me.

But, me the woman of substance err the woman of slightly-less-substance was firm in her conviction. She believed that ‘Where there is ghee, there is also loads of fat gleefully settling around her for nonstop gossip” Many beauty conscious women avoid ghee so I thought this is perfect for me. I started dreaming about all the fat I’m about to gain, what women would say when I pass by : ‘Hey, look at her…she’s got it all man…all that plump and curves…I wonder how she got it?’ and all the south Indian movie directors making an offer to me – I would be their next plump heroine starring opposite Rajnikanth! Imagine me dancing and jingling all that adipose and becoming an instant heart throb of the south Indian men in the country that’s nearly 50 % of the Indian male population! WOW! Also, all the channels would be vying for my interview, my ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures would be shown by worried mothers to their teenage daughters who have been corrupted by Kareena and her senseless size zero; the plump me would be the new youth icon (female)!


Ghee it was that finally worked, but only a few grams. Stretch jeans still look comfort fit. I do sleep more with all that ghee but my constantly active brain like a cloud of mosquitoes buzzing over you on a night safari breaks down all that adipose into God knows what…I still can’t find much fat! I still look like ‘Laurel’ when I am with real ‘Hardy’s’.

Then it dawned on me. What my mom really wanted to say all these months and what she ended up actually telling me!! She always referred to my married friends, relatives, and neighbors and never failed to make a special mention of their post-marriage physique which was the ideal one. This means the only way for me to gain was to get married. Now, how can I even think of ‘doing it as a weight-gain exercise’ without getting married? Sounds exciting but hell, no..can’t indulge in it, I am better off looking like Olive Oyl…surely there’s a Popeye waiting for me somewhere…sometime! Ok Dreamland again!! Maybe, Pierce Brosnan, that hot Bond – his wife is really huge now:) The World is Not Enough!! Tomorrow Never Dies!!!

Dreamland zindabad…

Just a poem

Spread her wings
far and wide;
Flap them to and fro,

from side to side.
A feather, a bubble,

a wish, a trinket
All things dear to her,

yet so fragile!
Memories of broken dreams

fill her in,
As she walks the path,

the forbidden path.

‘Hey, you’, whispers
the voice of her soul
Dare she heed any,

lest her destiny deny her role,
She hastens on the path –

the call from the wild
The Devil’s more powerful

than her disheartened own.
She steps in tiptoe,

as quiet as her shadow
Her ignorance divine,

her mind aglow

Like the wonderland
through a rabbit-hole,
Seeks yet another

Alice of its own
The call was enchanting,

the promise so soothing
The Lord, her shepherd

tends to her soul
Alas the Devil tempts her

to the path unknown
O dear child, her fear is

but not a word spoken.

The Devil, the fantasy,
the mirage the sands have seen
Speak of a world through

the looking-glass
A world manifested

full of promises galore
For what seems real may not be and

what isn’t may seem so!
Yet again, her faith is shattered,

her dream broken
Yet another path seeks her,

seeks the gossamer of her dreams!