I read a blog recently of a friend of a friends, who for the major part of my life was defined within the vast confines of “Mano ki class fellow.” As I age, it appears the world shrinks and ages get swallowed up into the divide that no longer distinguishes me from her. Perhaps there are only three stages, one called ‘childhood’, then ‘teenage’ and then the bleak vastness that is ‘adulthood’. Within the latter we all try to scurry into our skins (sometimes outside) to recall the two stages that have passed before.
It turns out that this blog stirred something. Azam and I spend some time discussing how all the world is the same. Mandated by a strange military-like obedience to like what is popular. In this scheme of things a differing view rarely draws positive feedback. Case to point: Fergie whatever-her-name’s song, “My Hump”. If I could shoot myself every time I hear it—I’d die any easy death.
Perhaps, yes, my life, even though lived within the confines of somewhat dictatorial parents has been more fulfilling than most. Rarely have I had to seek company or entertainment from outside. More often than not my mind was the happiest place of solace, albeit, resigned as it was to serious bouts of melancholy, it was a great way to be. To be. To exist.
At the risk of drawing a boy into the dubious shades of homosexuality, which one must unwillingly suffer if he ‘likes’ cartoons, Azam and I enjoyed cartoons more than any other movie we have seen to date. His ‘happy movie’ even at his present age remains ‘Road to Eldarado.’
“You gave me loaded die?!”
“He gave me loaded die!”
And there has never been a better villain in the history of all cartoons than Scar. Though Azam does put up a fairly good case for Shan Yu from Mulan. The fact that he bears a remarkable resemblance to Mazhar Phupha only adds charm to our inside joke.
We didn’t do a lot of the thing kid’s boast of today. There were no late night parties. Hell, there were no cousin sleepovers even. But, somehow, we managed. We were over compensated with make-believe stories about Zircon’s evil minions out to get us within the space of the garden. Our only safe haven was the garage, pulled halfway down for an added touch of drama. Coming out of the damp scaling walls of the garage we were accosted by sharp light, which always gave our expressions of heroic stoicism more authenticity. Jamal managed the flying kicks and the tumbles in the air best. We barely convinced each other. But we were want for nothing. There was the BMX cycle and Huma Khala’s hand-me-down skateboard towed to the back of the rider and sent off with a Silver Hawks style “release”.
Good old days. Now I find things being dictated by the superfluous, the bizarre, the mundane…by being an adult. And when one wants to escape, the mind hollows within what is real, refusing to return to the sublime, the surreal. Is this age? Is this growing up? Will I eventually lose all my dreams, even the one I hold most untarnished, to the circumsized, myopic view that is 'reality'.
Perhaps only time will tell.
It turns out that this blog stirred something. Azam and I spend some time discussing how all the world is the same. Mandated by a strange military-like obedience to like what is popular. In this scheme of things a differing view rarely draws positive feedback. Case to point: Fergie whatever-her-name’s song, “My Hump”. If I could shoot myself every time I hear it—I’d die any easy death.
Perhaps, yes, my life, even though lived within the confines of somewhat dictatorial parents has been more fulfilling than most. Rarely have I had to seek company or entertainment from outside. More often than not my mind was the happiest place of solace, albeit, resigned as it was to serious bouts of melancholy, it was a great way to be. To be. To exist.
At the risk of drawing a boy into the dubious shades of homosexuality, which one must unwillingly suffer if he ‘likes’ cartoons, Azam and I enjoyed cartoons more than any other movie we have seen to date. His ‘happy movie’ even at his present age remains ‘Road to Eldarado.’
“You gave me loaded die?!”
“He gave me loaded die!”
And there has never been a better villain in the history of all cartoons than Scar. Though Azam does put up a fairly good case for Shan Yu from Mulan. The fact that he bears a remarkable resemblance to Mazhar Phupha only adds charm to our inside joke.
We didn’t do a lot of the thing kid’s boast of today. There were no late night parties. Hell, there were no cousin sleepovers even. But, somehow, we managed. We were over compensated with make-believe stories about Zircon’s evil minions out to get us within the space of the garden. Our only safe haven was the garage, pulled halfway down for an added touch of drama. Coming out of the damp scaling walls of the garage we were accosted by sharp light, which always gave our expressions of heroic stoicism more authenticity. Jamal managed the flying kicks and the tumbles in the air best. We barely convinced each other. But we were want for nothing. There was the BMX cycle and Huma Khala’s hand-me-down skateboard towed to the back of the rider and sent off with a Silver Hawks style “release”.
Good old days. Now I find things being dictated by the superfluous, the bizarre, the mundane…by being an adult. And when one wants to escape, the mind hollows within what is real, refusing to return to the sublime, the surreal. Is this age? Is this growing up? Will I eventually lose all my dreams, even the one I hold most untarnished, to the circumsized, myopic view that is 'reality'.
Perhaps only time will tell.
Comments
Are you ready Mushu??
I AM READY BABY!....LIGHTTT ME!
here comes the night,
here come the memories,
lost in your arms,
down by the foriegn fields,
not so long ago,
seems like eternity,
those sweet afternoons,
still capture me,
someday, out of the blue...
they apply?