Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Bodhki Ram Buddhu

Any god who may read,
The post office of heaven,
The sky.

Date : 3rd of august on earth.

Subject : Too light for the intellectual god

Dear God,
I dearly hope that this letter finds you as soon as it reaches the heaven. I hope you won’t be out on an inspection session in hell, because I don’t want any sub ordinates of yours to read this very private letter.

God, I have been surrounded by intellectual people all over. The simple problem I have is that I am finding it very hard to survive among such people. The way they talk, their mannerisms, the way they eat, the way they use their genitals, the way wipe their butts after using the washroom, and the way they show me down, and make me feel like an outcast. I am really miserable god. When my friends in the classroom raise their hands, and answer to the teachers, I feel stupid. Leave the answers, I am unable to understand the questions for starters. These intellectual people talk in hushed tones, and look at me in bewilderment when I shout or stand up on benches or break plastic scales on someone’s head for just a bit of fun. They make my life boring, and the fact that my parents want me to be one of them kills me every night when I go to piss in my garden. My parents want me to comb my hair, wear the tie with a perfect knot, talk in a sophisticated manner, and act sensible, and I don’t even know the meaning of sensible. Those big books with more than a hundred pages fail to hold my interest, until and unless they don’t have monkeys and donkeys illustrated on their pages. I have been flunking all my exams except the drawing one because the drawing teacher declined to give me grades after she saw what I drew. The only solace is when I go to play in the playground. But then, even there the games they play have so many rules. There is this game of a stick and a round ball they play in which there is a boundary of limitation, and so many men standing surrounding the man with the stick, and surprisingly the man with the stick never hits them. I fail to understand their rules god, I prefer kicking stones, and digging holes in the playground, and occasionally I get kicked for it by the other people in the ground. And then in class, most of the people wear these round rimmed things with glasses fitted in them on their eyes. It makes them look ugly, and when I ask them the reason of wearing it, they tell me that it makes them read better, and obviously make them more intellectual. You should listen to their jokes god. You have to think about the joke four times, and then you get it, and then you laugh on it. There was this joke I overheard once in the afternoon, and I started laughing at midnight when I atlast got it, and I was sleeping between my parents, and got a spanking from them for being uncivilized, and unsophisticated. What an unfortunate, and sad a joke, it was for me.
I won’t blame you for not making me intellectual. But I beg you to place me somewhere on earth, where the people aren’t so intellectual. When I see the dumb people of my class, I find peace and solace in them. They are the ones who never answer, have the most sleep, the largest of the yawns, the loudest of the burps, and the farts, and the most fun. Their jokes evoke laughter from within. And they have such innocent smiles. Please put such people along with me in some lonely deserted land, and I promise that we will do good enough deeds to qualify for heaven, and make you proud.

cigars,
Your seven year old kid,
Bodhki Ram Buddhu

1 comment:

Aadya. said...

I like the way you write. No wait, I L.O.V.E. it :D

Ps: I miss your blog. Keep writing!