Its clumsy, sad and pathetic that I’m going to miss out on a short stint at Pune because of a really terrible Viral fever which has kept me bed ridden throughout the last 5 days and threatens to get worse if I dont get my hands on that miracle drug. I can doctor myself well, I think. The paediatrician who treated me decided that he knew my age and scribbled in a dose of antibiotics meant for a two year old. Here I am shivering with fever, cold and other very vile ailments and all he manages to prescribe was three times a day of Paracetamol, some other tablet for the itch in my throat which is still there and then finally the antibiotic. 8mg tablets; three tablets, one each day. Seriously doc? Whats up with you? I’m huge and I’m very much into Betnelan, Roxid and others which have been coming through to me at more than 250mg at the rate of three tablets a day. Whatever you call it; thats the kinda dose that cures diseases. I’m fucked here, you see? God damn it! I’ll have to go talk to someone else tomorrow if I don’t feel better. I’m kicked and I really need to sleep some more. But then, I’ve been sleeping for the past five days and I smell like a bear out of hibernation. Kinda sick. Ohh, and why a children’s doc? Well, thats the best I could find within a 5km radius of my house and I seriously need help.
I’ve been like this for the past four days now and its given me a lot of time to think, read and sleep. I’ve been sleeping most of the time and I haven’t come up with anything remotely productive or creative. I’m kinda stuck at a point in my book where the story is a bit too real to narrate and I’m in a dilemma. Should I or should I not? Tell the story as is. I’ve inculcated a lot of fiction but there are parts of your story that you just cant add or subtract stuff and you really want to blurt out the real deal; well, its in a slump for now. I’ll get back to that later. For now, I had this thought in my head where I began wondering about myself. Again? Yeah, I do that quite a lot. Guess I dig into parts of me that’d be best left alone and then I brood. I thereby become incorrigibly gloomy and I look and sound like one of those hopeless beggars on the platform of Pune railway station. Well, not exactly. They’re pathetic. I’ve wished so many times to help them and wished for everyone to have everything that all of them desired. Let no body be poor and let no one beg for food! Some of my sumptuous dreams.
I ended up asking myself if I’d want to be reborn as me – Anup, again. Assuming of course, that we humans have a chance to live again across life itself and across multiple dimensions. I thought about one of those flop movies I loved so much – Suryavansham. Yes, it had Salman Khan doing the whole Punarjanam* thing. Punarjanam – Reincarnation. Ideally, its not reincarnation that I’m talking about. Its about me being born again as me. The same guy, no change. Born into a different social society (GOD YES!!) else I’d die of boredom. And lets assume that I suddenly have a stroke of luck or a heavenly voice tells me the entire story of the me prior to… you know… ME?! Duh… I’m dragging this, am I not? I’m just trying to type down whatever it is that came into my mind today and it had to be AS IS! So, do I want to be me; AGAIN? Well, No.
Its not like I hate myself and the way I am. Or its probably more of that and less of the other findings that I’m going to sermonise. Its kinda sad that I feel this way but haven’t we all had those seconds/minutes or hours (in my case) in our lives where we’d want to be someone else? Not temporarily, but forever? Like change into a new prototype. An Anup v2.0 if you may. Enhanced, less complicated but more efficient and highly distinctive. I’d like a few changes. A few is an understatement to the amount of changes I’d need in me. Simply put, I’d just want to be a different me but still knowing that its me. Capable to differentiate between the old me and the new me. Get my point? I know its a shallow thought, but I really need that. For example, I want to lose ten kgs. I don’t need a perfect body, but I’d like to be more presentable. I’d like my face to be altered a bit. Just yesterday, I had this kid (who was trying to play holi with his friends) drench me with his water bottle as I slowly dragged myself to the tea shop for some hot tea. I was mad at him but not mad enough to want to see him curl up and die. But then, he said something which ticked me off. He said, “Sorry uncle…!” What the fuck, kid? I’m 25, alright? I hope you curl up and die. Touchwood. I know its not going to happen. God has been good with me that way.So, yes, I’d like to live my age. I’d like to unlove my dreadful experience with love. I hate it so so much. Infact, if none of the other changes take effect, I’d at least pray for this one to happen. Kinda like in the movie “Eternal Sunshine of a spotless Mind” take all those memories out! Be reborn with all the firsts. The first time I said “I love you…” the first kiss and everything else. Yup, come to think of it now, this is THE ONLY change I’d want to see if I be reborn as ME!
Now I know that most of the above diarrhoea of words would seem like tantrums thrown by a kid with a broken heart, but its more than that and I know that no one gives a fuck, but thought I’d rant anyway. Its been an unhealthy vacation thus far.