Everything makes sense some of the time
Shonpapri
the barber was dead, dying and living. He did not notice much around him on
most days, so he could be excused for never realising this truth. He cut hair
like he tied his shoes- forming knots.
On this
particular day in this particular universe, Gunda the village elder came over
to have his ponytail removed. Gunda had decided to take up the challenge of
being an obnoxious elder even without a ponytail. It was the most difficult
thing he had done since stealing his son’s tiffin the previous day.
The haircut
came and went, but Gunda did not. Shonpapri decided to shave the gentleman, and
proceeded to shampoo him soon after. It was only after a facial and a thrown in
back massage that he realised that Gunda had in fact died a while back. Briefly shocked, but recovering quickly, he was taking the money
owed to him from Gunda’s wallet when eight year old Bedana walked in. She leapt
onto the seat next to Gunda.
“Hi
Shonpapri!”
“Hi Bedana.”
“Isn’t it a
lovely day?”
“I’m afraid
I don’t see much of the outside while I’m here.”
“But you see
a lot, don’t you?”
“I’ve seen
some things today, yes. Don’t play with the scissors.”
“I bet you
have quite a few stories to tell, don’t you?”
“I do
indeed, young lady. Don’t play with the knife.”
“I have a
story too, you know.”
“Really?”
“It’s a big,
round, hairball of a story. It’s got a large heart, and strong knees, and
nimble fingers that can tie a knot on a sleeping kitten’s tail.”
“That sounds
lovely, but I wish you wouldn’t swing the knife around wildly as you speak.”
“My daddy
says it’s the roughest, toughest, meanest, keenest, loudest, proudest story
he’s ever heard.”
“Who is your
daddy, Bedana? I never did ask you. Strange that you’ve been coming here alone
ever since you were two.”
“Gunda the
village elder.”
Shonpapri’s
eyes went red. This was because Bedana accidentally slashed his forehead while
playing with the knife. He wiped himself, and stole a quick glance towards
Gunda. He truly looked like a different individual without the ponytail.
“Give me my
haircut, Shonpapri.”
“Of course,
of course. Snip snap.”
Shonpapri
began to cut Bedana’s hair. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and
dangled from the end of his nose, swaying back and forth like a confused
intern at an ad agency.
“Say,
Bedana.”
‘What’s on
your mind, Shonpapri?”
“Oh, not
much. I was just wondering if you had noticed the dead man on the chair next to
you.”
“You mean
the one who appears to have died while you were massaging him.”
“I am pretty
good at those massages. Nudge nudge.”
“Or pretty
bad.”
“You’re such
a realist, Bedana.”
“Reality
doesn’t exist, Shonpapri. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about the ten
dimensions?”
“No.”
“Well,
there’s time, which doesn’t exist. There’s length, breadth, and height,
collectively known as space, which exists because nothing else does. They
combine to form our perception of reality, a practical joke so long and
convoluted it forgot its own punch line.”
“Well, I’m
still laughing.”
“You don’t
even want to know about all the other dimensions.”
“If only my
mother taught me, Bedana.”
“Would your
life be any better then, Shonpapri?”
“If it doesn’t exist, definitely so.”
“If it doesn’t exist, definitely so.”
“I think it
does and it doesn’t.”
“I believe
you.”
“You should and you shouldn’t."
“I will and I can’t.”
“I will and I can’t.”
“What the
hell is going on here?”
“Gunda!"
“Hi, daddy.”
“Hi,
Bedana.”
Gunda awoke
to find his ponytail missing, and furiously punched himself, thinking he was
someone else. Shonpapri was so relieved he had a heart attack.
“Do you want
to hear my story again, daddy? Shonpapri doesn’t seem to be interested.”
“Help me!”
“Sure,
honey.”
“There once
was a chicken called Shinjini. Shinjini had three eyes. Two of them were
normal, like all cross-eyed chickens have, but the third one was built the
other way around, and looked inside of herself. So if she closed her two normal
eyes, the third one would open on it’s own, and she would see her heart tango
with her brain and her liver make a pass at her alimentary canal.”
“Would
someone call the police?”
“What
happened next, sweetheart?”
“No matter
how many times it happened, it still disoriented her to see the sleep in her
dreams and the guts in her feelings and and the mind on her thoughts and the
true motives behind all of her actions.”
“How
troubling, love.”
“Farewell,
cruel world. I’ll never forget thee.”
“It is
indeed. One day Shinjini while walking across Tibet met a lady monk called Red.
Her shaved head made her eyes dazzle in a way that made Shinjini want to cuddle
up next to her and be saved from self-discovery. Red was tired of girls and
boys looking to her for salvation but the chicken’s predicament had her
interest piqued. Red had meditated
hard and long and looked inside of herself in such a euphoric orgasmic tick-tock-my-mind-just-unlocked
sort of way that she was now able to look at the outside world and see the
simultaneous past, present and future, layered on top of each other like a
Bengali man’s clothes for a wintertime picnic. The transcendental realisations that
followed had caused Red to abandon material pleasures while physically existing
in the ten-dimensional universe. She lived miserably thereafter and this made
her happier than she had ever been before.”
“Gosh.”
“Shonpapri
was a great man. Friend to all, lover to none.”
Gunda looked
around to find that a few days had passed and he was at Shonpapri’s
funeral.
“How did we
get here?”
“The illusory nature of time shocked the tired Shinjini, and in a great moment of awe, she managed
to open all three eyes together, observing herself outside in and inside out.”
“If only he
could have lived longer. Or maybe died earlier. We wouldn’t have missed the
match either way.”
“Not happy
with learning so much without being taught anything, Shinjini wanted Red to
impart more wisdom in a formal manner.
‘Tell me, O Red!’, Shinjini began
dramatically, ‘What is it I should do?’
‘I don’t know, Shinjini’, Red replied
dryly, ‘Your eyes have been opened. What else can I help you with?’
‘I don’t feel very wise, O Red! I feel
much the same!’
‘Good.’”
“Gosh! Is
that Shonpapri’s father in the distance?”
“‘Save me!
Save me from this monstrosity!’, Shinjini screamed, jumping on Red’s face and scratching it furiously.
‘Oh, the horror! The terror!’, Shinjini
screamed at herself while scratching even harder.”
“Didn’t he
die eight years ago?”
“At the end
of the furious onslaught, Shinjini looked to the heavens for forgiveness.
‘What have I done?’, she asked herself
rhetorically.
‘Absolutely nothing’, Red answered
anyway, and it was true, for her face was unharmed.”
“I remember
the funeral. It was terribly boring.”
“Shinjini
looked at Red’s unscratched face and somersaulted over her. They lay on the
ground, staring at each other for fifteen minutes. Red didn’t speak as she
already knew all that Shinjini had said or was going to say throughout all the
moments of their collective conscious existence. Shinjini on the other hand
didn’t know what to say.”
“Or was that
his uncle?”
“Red got up
with the grace of a cat and looked into Shinjini’s eyes, all three of them, and
said in a tone that was both magnanimous and sinister, ‘It’s not going to get
any better for you.’ She then disappeared into thin air, knocking the boots off
the confused chicken’s claws.”
“Oh my.”
“Indeed.”
“That’s quite sad, isn’t it?”
Gunda and
Bedana watched Shonpapri’s body burning into ash. Shonpapri’s father scratched
himself while his mother yawned. His only friend qualified for the next level
of Candy Crush.
“I just hope
it doesn’t get any worse.”
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