NOTE: These are short writings that I had penned between 2008 and 2012. Thought of posting them here today as a single article.
Chapter 1 (Let me remind you, there is no chapter 2, neither this articles begins and ends anywhere):
Short cropped fur and mud laden desire of poodle - the (under)dog. Through the rabbit burrow it follows Alice and discovers a whole new world awaiting vast dismissals of worldly attachment.
Woof woof! This Alice is the courtesan of storms; the queen of hearts in a game of rummy!
Poodle peddles its way through the murky winds and crystal waters, envisaging reaching the chrome sun splashing itself over the rain clouds. Ah! It is about to rain. Poodle needs shelter, or would it want its fur to get soaked in the pieces of raindrops flowing down the orbits of planetary exits?
The (under) dog discoveries…
But it never showered. It was a funny trickle of a few droplets on its east facing pointed face. Like suave teasers of an upcoming film, which incite you to break the shell of laziness and walk in to the theatre, only to sleep in the air conditioned atmosphere with a sack full of popcorn layered with fattening butter. The film never happens, like the rain that never rolled down the topographies of anticipation. Poodle is simply disappointed. It smells the filthy smoke of cars without pollution checks. How much do pollution checks matter after all? Then it saw pollutant struck fish afloat the ocean; mutilated by unknown bacteria of post modernism. Fish of all sizes and shapes.
Just a few moments the fish had noticed a grease covering up their waters. Sensing impending danger, the fish camouflaged themselves into the toxin colour. Chocked with a sudden thrust of intoxicating grease, they lived their last breathe in the colour that belonged to their enemy.
Alice…
“Don’t come to my wonderland with a perspective. Why do you need one anyways? Afterall, the thin line between right and wrong was smudged long before water colours were invented. Don’t try and look at the tattered bodies of war victims. Their limbs will be lying here and there, but you are not entitled to pay the slightest heed. Just move on. If need be, throw up. Just burp it out. Fart it out. But don’t let the bodies spoil your taste buds. There are plums of greatest desires here. Just take your bite.”
Poodle in the Puddle
“Ah! What a morning. The silver sun rays have decided to throw themselves just at a fourth of my face, while the rest of my face gets shadowed by the grin of the green. But I need to now attend to natures call…where to do it Alice? Your wonderland is full of surprises. You never know when one of these corpses start walking with the spirit of utmost dissent and shove it down my ass! Is there a place where I can attend to my need in un-scattered peace?”
“Ah well Poodle, there is a puddle over the third horizon. You will get a view of cherry blossoms from there. May be you can shit there in peace too?”
Poodle Tastes Cocoa…
“Now that I have released myself of the weight of last night’s digestives(yawwwwn)…I feel like having a warm cup of coffee.”
“Hey, Poodle, have this!” Alice offers Poodle this steamy mug of coffee.
Mmmmm…it tastes good. The taste of bitter coffee; one that mingles perfectly with the aroma of the sweat and blood of the African cocoa is always refreshing.
Poppies in Aliceland
Alice sprinkled a few seeds of poppy over the terrain. Poodle wondered why.
“It compliments the cherry blossoms perfectly well. Now don’t ask me the mathematics of it, but red and white look good together.”
Indeed the land was blotched in red once upon a time. Now it has snow peaked mountains. Poodle is still trying to get over the aroma of the coffee and suddenly sees red poppies fluttering its feathers over the gently moving breeze. How uncanny is this land, Poodle thinks. It is like the expression on the Dalai Lama’s face having to take a stand every time the Tibetan task gets violent.
Unidirectional Mikes and Alice
“He said he would quit as the leader if the violence continues.”
“Said who?”
“Alice! You are stuck in this wonderland of yours! You are behaving like a corporate monster who has chosen the unidirectional mike to speak and has adorned its ears with a headphone! The mountains are turning scarlet!”
“Yes I know…the poppies have started flowering.”
“But Alice…!”
“What?”
“How are you unscathed? How do you live amidst this facade?”
“I just visit this place when I feel like Poodle. Don’t forget I belong to the other side of the rabbit burrow. I smell the aroma of poppies and get intoxicated. I don’t try and see what colours the poppies adorn.”
“But don’t you smell the decomposed pits of mass graves?”
They smell like barbecued beef …
Poodle Pukes…
Poodle saw Alice dragging some decomposed corpses into a huge pit till they thawed completely. Alice’s white and red frock was fluttering in the wind that carried the scent of the dead bodies. Poodle once again tries to regather in its mind, the aroma of the African cocoa; the bitter fragrance, despite knowing where it came from, what it represented.
Poodle can, however, only smell a filthy broth of fragrances. It runs to the river and pukes out the coffee he had gulped the other morning.
River Connect
River???(A stunned stoned Poodle). And it had been thinking all this while that it had seen the sea. The dead fish that it saw floating on the greased waters? It happens. It does. It does. Many people mistake the Brahmaputra to be the sea. I mean anyone could easily confuse the river horizon to that of the sea. But then Poodle also saw the island. The last time Poodle had followed Alice, it thought it had seen a larger one. There can be two very valid explanations to this. Either this is a different island or the previous one is depleting.
Poodle Returns
Poodle decides to run away. That seemed like a more intelligent option than bearing through the formaldehyde smells of decomposed bodies. Isn’t the world outside much more bearable? Not ideal…but yes, bearable. At least the municipal boards collect the bodies and either store it in the morgues or donate them to medical schools. Either way, there is a system. At least the blooming poppies outside remind Poodle of farmers from Afganistan and not warm blood of slaughtered cows.
Poodle runs out of the tunnel and breathes the fresh air of respite from puns and metaphors of an outwardly existence.
Individuality is Such an Illusionary Bug!
That day Poodle met Alice in the city. It could not believe, she was lying in a pool of blood! Still breathing, but in tremendous pain. Poodle felt helpless as it could not lift her and take her to a more secure place. And it had no clue where the wonderland was. Yes, Poodle firmly believed everything could be taken care of in Alice’s wonderland. It was secure and full of narcotic poppies.
While Poodle was still toying with several ideas about how to rescue her, someone lifted her and took her away in a stretcher. The white patches on her frock could hardly be seen. They had completely soaked the red from the pool of blood she was lying in. A deafening selective silence engulfed Poodle’s ears. It could hear the pounding heart and Alice’s faint screeches.
Was Alice escapist? How often would she visit her wonderland? Several questions did their round in Poodle’s mind. Would she been suffering this if she had stayed there for ever?
But why would she? There was no body there except for corpses of war victims. Wars of humanly existence, wars of individuality. People would follow Alice to the wonderland and would never come back. They give in to death as they cannot cope with their self. And Alice would visit the place to clean it.
So, Alice was actually cleaning the wonderland that day!
Advertisement
“Thank God! Alice is fine now; she’s recovering fast. I came to know about her from the news channels. Yes, they have been trying to catch hold of any possible survivor of the blast victims for an interview. I saw an interview of one person who had to amputate his legs and had almost half of his face burnt badly, not to mention other injuries. It looked horrible on TV. But of course there was an instruction below the footage: ‘The images may be shocking.'”
Poodle said all of this with a ‘I know it all’ confidence.
“So?” came a reply, or may be a question.
“So the news channel cannot be blamed for the telecast. They warned people after all!”
"But what the hell is it all about? I mean, why do they need to play the ‘warning’ afterall?”
"Oh! The ‘warning’ is actually a hidden advertisement of the claimed to be exclusive footage”
No doubt, Poodle knows it all!
Another ONE..or TWO, may be THREE…Poodle wants to run back
Gosh! Where’s Alice? I know she does not like going to high end places, and is mostly found on streets smelling scents of fuming curries from the shacks. That’s how she got injured the last time. But she has recuperated, except for the fact that her long tresses are gone. She had to be operated upon in her brain. Hence they shaved it off..her head. But I need to search her soon. I can’t wait to be in the wonderland again. So what if I have to fight my illusionary existence there? At least I do not have to face gun battles during supper.
Rubik’s Cube
Creek, Kreeek, Ckreeeck……..Krrrrreeeeck.
Like the umpteen sounds of a rickety door, life tries upon itself a few Rubik’s cubic permutations and combinations.
Funnily enough, we stand at those junctures more often than not.
“Ruby Cubbiic???What’s that Alice?”
“It’s a game poodle. A puzzle game. People sometimes take years to solve it.”
“You mean to say, they keep on playing it without getting tired? And they continue playing it for years? I lose all my patience during my game of patience, and at times I even lift the cards to see what’s underneath.”
"Daring of you to have admitted the dishonesty you indulge in, in this one man’s game. Sorry for the sexist usage.”
“Oh that’s because we are in your wonderland and nobody else hears it. And I don’t mind telling it to you. But about this Ruby Cube thing…I must say I am intrigued. Are you sure people don’t cheat to finish the game in say one hour?”
“There are tricks, but what’s the point then? Are you playing for your brain cells to open up, or to show others that you have open brain cells?”
Rain
“What does rain do to you Alice?”
It had just given Poodle the orgasm it had longed for.
“It’s my moment of liberation Poodle. Embracing everything that life has to offer-from thorns to thistles. You walk under the shield of rain directionless. You feel your self and understand what it means to walk alone.”
“Are you alone, Alice? I mean you feel lonely?”
“No Poodle, every person is the central character of his life. A life that is one’s own. To each his own. Celebrate singlehood Poodle!”
Point of No Return
As long as I reach somewhere, Cheshire Cat…
But I am not quite sure, if that SOMEWHERE is actually that important. Let me rephrase it. "As long as I am moving.”
Yes, now it looks like it.
Okay, now how to make it a commercially viable plan? I mean let’s think of a business model. What? You thought we could carry on with this freaky voyage without timely monetary investments? Let’s get some VCs together. No, VC neither means Vice Chancellor nor Vice Chairman. They are venture capitalists Poodle. Cheshire cat has to still tutor you in various things. You somehow float in romance but forget to get out of it. Your transitions to the real world are always so jerky! You will have to understand where and when we have come out of the burrow. I know there are no signs, but you should feel it from within. Yes, of course there are dangers of split personality, but you should have thought about it before becoming a part of this.
What say Cheshire Cat?
One year! One fucking year!
As Alice tried to reason out her oblivion, Cheshire cat just about managed to purr. He has been lazy of late; as always.
“But why did I let time slip by through that sloppy, slippery alley, Cheshire cat?”
“Awwwhhh, you have been busy Alice. Sometimes, the world becomes your Lala Land.”
“But where’s Poodle?”
“He is still on that Rubik’s cube thingy you gave him. He really thinks he will sort it out.
“He still does not get it, right? It was my fault. I pulled him into the maze. And he is still in it. But wasn’t it better that way? At least decomposed dead bodies would not make you puke. You could talk to them and listen to their stories. I miss my wonderland Cheshire Cat. I think I should go back.”
“Hey Alice, are you nuts? THIS is your wonderland. There was never a wonderland!”
“When I think of it, Poodle is the happier amongst three of us.”
“Hold on, hold on. I am not unhappy! I am fine. And get my sleep, I get my food, I get to purr and I wash my fur. I do not want to lead you to that stinky place no more. Enough of the wonderland! Now, if you are unhappy, you need to reason it out. We can make it happen here. Just a bit of effort here, and whoa! Let’s try to solve some puzzles. Okay, let’s begin by seeking answers. If there’s a problem, let’s ask: Why?”
“Oh fuck! “ Alice faints.
The Poodestal
“The View from here is good Alice; only the pedestal is a little wobbly. I shouldn’t have used that easel as a ladder to climb up. It does not give a good perspective of the impending danger. Moreover, I am barefoot. There are spies all around and they will look for footprints. I seem to have left many.”
“Poodle, don’t be a fool! There is nothing here. You are sitting on a dead cow in the middle of a wholesale market. Where’s your Rubik’s cube?”
“I bartered it for this cow. It was breathing when I got it! I thought giving this cow CPR would be easier than trying to get that cube together. I have been trying it for a year now, but to no avail. ”
“Hold my hand Poodle. We’ll get out of this maze together. Cheshire cat is right at the exit waiting for us. But he won’t wait for too long, he says.”
Social Circle
Did you find him?
Who?
Useless!
Okay, it is impossible to find him today. There is a wedding tonight. The girl’s expecting though. She is in her third quarter.
What if she delivers today?
The child will become legitimate.
Cheshire Cat, you are still stuck to your social circle right?
When the Dog Purred
Escaping the myriad realities of existential life, the dog, the cat and the child decided to run away. Poodle, Cheshire and Alice were a good trio now. They could become a gang and loot a bank. Who’d be remotely suspicious of a dog-cat-child alliance? Isn’t it supposed to be absolutely ‘normal’?
Something New
…happened. Poodle decides to lead. His tail erect and stiff, alarming everyone of an impending danger. The cat was doubtful about this adventure though. And he cursed the dog for having this innate physical quality to express concern. He would have to travel throughout with this vigil. Alice seemed non perplexed and that eased his mind a bit.
“Why on earth do I need to be with these idiots?”
That was Poodle’s concern.
