The Lizard in My Room

On one of the many uneventful days, I walked inside my dark room, moved my hands over the switchboard to turn the lights on and there I saw it - a filthy lizard right above my hand. As I gripped and twisted my thoughts about which planet to relocate to, the lizard quickly vanished among the shirts hanging by the hooks behind the door. The time to burn the shirts had arrived.

Not soon later, I realized that both of us were equally scared of each other. I ran out of the door when I saw it and it vanished on its usual journey in the maze of my clothes. While we continued running away from each other, I started to see the lizard as an extension of myself - my own Richard Parker. It began to appear everywhere - on the mirror, on the fan and on the computer screen.

However, the unsocial breed of humans that I belong to, the disease of dissociation bred the idea of driving the creature out of my life. It's easy catching a mouse than driving a lizard out of one's life. I could not present it with a worthy bait because the monster thrives on insignificant insects. I could not drive it out with a stick because it would hide among the gaps.

I plotted the most vicious of plans. I threw away the electric lights. I darkened out the windows with dark curtains. I bought a candle and kept it in the middle of the room. I opened the door momentarily at night and the insects arrived soon. I was waiting for the lizard. I kept myself still for hours not willing to scare away the monster with my movement. It arrived soon - crawling from one of the corners to the centre of the room. I could not take its sight. I had to drive it out of my life. It started snapping on the insects - that evil creep. I pounced on it with my pillow. I could feel it wring under the weight of my hands over the pillow. I couldn't hold myself back. I had to finish it now. I wanted the worst death for the monster. I held the candle and set the pillow on fire. My hands started burning but I was determined to finish it off. Soon, my shirt was ablaze but I could still feel the lizard moving under the pillow. The fire began to gorge into my skin and every bit of my body was in pain. The failure to kill the lizard would've finished me faster than the burns. The glare of the fire kept me going. I felt my skin falling off and energy seeping out of my body. I was consumed by the flames. It was a pleasant end. "Surely it must've died by now," was my last thought. With a smile, I opened my eyes for one last time. The lizard was sneaking from underneath the pillow out of the door.

A bit about cheap movie halls

Having experienced the life long rift between expectations and experience of movies, a significant risk is involved in going to the theatres for watching movies. Over a short span of embarrassing-to-reveal years, one has watched movie goers move from cheap theatres to multiplexes. While the comfort, perfumes and short skirts might be appealing, I prefer watching movies in a cheap standalone theatre.

The ticket counter guy is actually accessible to you and doesn't employ a microphone and speaker to converse with someone standing a foot away. Also, he doesn't question the clarity of your speech:

You: "ABC movie. 4PM show. Chaar tickets."
Ticket guy: "ABC. 4PM. Four tickets. Are you sure?" [Yes, they speak English.]

This is also the moment when you question your decision to come for the movie. After you convince the guy, he shows you your seats in the screen(hall) on his screen. If he is fine with you being fine with it, he prints the tickets on the "Brand Equity" paper quality - in triplicate. In the same time, the old style movie hall ticket issuer would have dealt with five people with a short review like, "Bakwas picture hai" or "Jaldi andar jaao...Pehle 10 mins mein hi asli scene hai."

For me, watching a movie is not about stuffing yourself with junk at 500% premium and spreading silent cheap farts. What makes a crappy movie bearable is the people around you. And no. I am not talking about the pleasure derived from brushing hands with the girl sitting next to you.

While a loudly uttered word is against the unwritten law of multiplexes, cheap movie halls score high in this regard. Watching movies in a small theatre is a large-scale equivalent of an off class at school.

Every action on screen has an instant reaction from the masses. People don't suppress themselves from singing, "Vicco turmeric.. nahi cosmetic". FTII short films are acknowledged with claps (understandably to thank heavens for their short duration). Even the scratchy anthem film is responded with a "Bharat Mata ki.." appeal. Whistle blowers are not punished by menacing looks and Shoosh's of people around. Some signature responses from the audience are:

A romantic moment (actors come close to each other) gets the reactions "Abe door reh usse...meri hai woh", "Dekhna bhaai aaraam se...", "Arey chhote bachhe hai yaha pe..." and so on.

One gets the feeling that the audience wants to see roses kissing instead of actors. However, if really roses are shown to be kissing, the audience reacts with an "Arey kuchh to dikhaao!"


Recently, sad moments have started to get the reaction "Arey bus kar pagli... rulaaegi kya?" or in case of Abhishek Bachchan, "Arey bus kar pagle... hasaayega kya?"

A long lull in the movie is greeted with, "Isse achha to peechhe ki seat waala movie hai."


Movies might be watched best in posh multiplexes. But you watch them best in these old style movie halls.

They're on the Sun's side

The hot Indian summer reminds us of our annual war with the sun. Ravi-war doesn't sound fun any more, does it? While we fuse together against this hopeless mass of nuclear fusion, some traitors have shamelessly joined hands with the viral rival:

1. Electricity boards: Electricity board employees kill their "board"om by playing a game of timing the power outage just when the mercury hits the maximum. Bonus points are scored when an outage is brought about at night. That's when I sleep on the streets in a soaked t-shirt.

2. Lizards: Their rapid summer breeding leads to rapid breeding of ill will towards them. Baby lizards, while slightly cute, hide in the most hideous places. Even Dexter Morgan fears blood splatter when he sees a lizard reaching cooler fans.

3. Seats of two-wheelers: While the summer burns our posteriors in an abstract sense, a more concrete evidence is experienced when one sits on a two-wheeler. A simple mantra then is to "Spit on the seat and then sit."

4. Some car drivers: At traffic signals, two-wheeler folks are seen waiting under tree shades 20 metres before the stop line. While this is acceptable, one struggles to find reason in car drivers indulging in this exercise. These are the people who own a lifetime stock of fairness creams.

5. Weddng Pundits: Surprisingly, these learned wise men come up with wedding dates that lie in the midst of the summer. The world must pour its pity for a baraat [ceremonious wedding procession] dancing on the streets in 45 Degrees Celcius. The groom's face says it all. One would find tying the knot of the tie more painful than the wedding knot.If you are dancing near the horse, be prepared to hear expletives straight from the horse's mouth.

In essence, our brat sun needs to calm down - at least in an effort to avoid such pieces from emergin again.