Conversations

An Imaginary conversation

ME: So, you still have that ‘active’ interest in Politics?

FATHER: I was never ‘active’ when it came to Politics. I had my opinions, yes, but that was that. Have you ever seen me travelling with a bunch of red-flag-bearing hoodlums towards Brigade to listen to Jyoti Basu?

ME: Maybe not, but I always had the feeling that you wanted to on some level. Maybe not literally accompanying those flag-bearers, but still… Anyways, didn’t you take us to one of Jyoti Basu’s meetings at Bijoygarh once?

FATHER: Yes, ONCE. I didn’t think you’d remember it!

ME: Yes, I do. It was one of the most boring few hours of my life…

FATHER: At least it was better than the hours of cricket you made me watch!

ME: HEY! You started liking the game at one point. I even found you watching the game on your own one time when I came home from school!

FATHER: That was different! I only wished to see the score to inform you about it when you came home! What gave you the idea I was watching it the whole time? I hate sports, you know that!

ME: Ya, ya… I remember how you fractured your foot the very first time you ventured onto a football field!

FATHER: That’s not why I hate sports… not solely, anyways. Sports drive people away from work. My employees used to spend their well-earned leaves on stupid games! The world cups were nightmares!

ME: Not unlike the political speeches, eh?

FATHER: Wait just a sec! Let’s leave politics aside for a while. I’ve been meaning to ask you a few things… regarding your career choices!

ME: What about them?

FATHER: Well, for starters, I wanted you to do an MBA.

ME: Well, yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.

FATHER: And?

ME: And… I wanted to do an MBA for a long time too. But then, it requires some pretty badass-

FATHER: LANGUAGE!

ME: Oh, sorry… I mean, it requires us to do some… uhh, tough Maths… and you know I’ve always been mortally afraid of the subject…

FATHER: That’s not a reason for you to skip what you ‘wanted’ to do! And Maths is required only during the Entrance test. I’m sure you would’ve sailed through with some training and practice!

ME: Well, maybe… Actually…

FATHER: Actually, you didn’t want to do an MBA anymore… Well, that’s fine with me. Although I would’ve felt proud, (dreamily) seeing you in a suit, sitting in some plush room on the seventieth floor of some skyscraper, with your name plaque reading, ‘CEO’.

ME: (whispers) Typical…

FATHER: Excuse me…

ME: (shouts) It’s typical of you, you know! You always said you’re a Communist! You literally worshipped Lenin-

FATHER: I did not! I merely respected the man!

ME: (continues) and praised the dictator-like antics of Stalin, and YOU happened to be a big shot bank officer, the embodiment of the bourgeoisie spirit that you apparently hated!

FATHER: But that’s me! YOU were never a Communist! You hated everything about those ideals! (Adds as an afterthought) Or so you said…

ME: What d’you mean, ‘Or so you said’?

FATHER: I mean, you simply liked to argue with me. And for that sake of argument, went on and on about how you disliked everything I liked: You HATED Communists, you LOVED Hindi film music, you HATED Rabindrasangeet…

ME: I still do!

FATHER: Oh ya? So what’s that folder called ‘Rabindrasangeet’ doing in your cell phone? And lo and behold, ‘Jokhon porbe na mor payer chinho’, ‘Sahana Gahana Ratri’, ‘Purano sei diner kotha’… these happen to be MY favorite songs! What are they doing in your phone?

ME: Don’t turn this around! You were a nicely placed bourgeoisie yourself who liked to advertise he was a Communist! Just admit that!

FATHER: Why do you care so much about Communism anyway?

ME: (irate) It’s not about Communism! It’s about what you believed in! You know, I’ve been dying to have this conversation with you for years now! I want to know something… you LOVED the CPI(M), didn’t you? So what’s your opinion on the Singur-Nandigram fiasco? I want to know if you would keep supporting your beloved ‘party’ even after the atrocities they committed?

FATHER: Well, it’s hard to justify what they did. But you can’t deny they started off with fair intentions!

ME: (shouts) FAIR INTENTIONS! Ousting poor peasants to make way for a big shot MNC to set up a ‘car’ factory! Don’t you think that’s the worst possible irony that could’ve been imposed on those poor people, who cannot DARE to dream about cars? And that brutal police, the ‘gang’ of comrades… shooting and raping people…

FATHER: (calmly) No, I would never try to justify those acts. But one thing you should know: there are bad people everywhere. Those ‘atrocities’ you speak of, has been committed by representatives of every single political party this country has seen. I was never a supporter of the ‘party’ as such. I was more in love of their original ideals. An equal state…

ME: A fucking utopia!

FATHER: (calmly) Language, boy! But yes, maybe that was a Utopia… but don’t we all strive for that Wonderland… the Utopia??

ME: Yes, but yours was a failed dream! And yet, you will not admit it!

FATHER: Of course I will admit it some day… The day you create your very own Utopia… (ME stays silent) So anyway, if you are done with your questions… I have some of mine!

ME: What?

FATHER: What? Well, let’s start with a simple one: WHAT THE HELL are you doing with your LIFE?

ME: What do you mean?

FATHER: Well, I can ‘see’ your potential. But you NEVER put a 100% in ‘anything’ you do! You study literature… that’s fine by me, by the way. I know you would’ve asked my ‘opinion’ sooner or later… but point is, you don’t enjoy literature whenever you have the compulsion of studying it! You wish to get into Presidency, but don’t care when the selection lists are put up. Same with Journalism! And tragedy is, you managed to get into both!

ME: I can’t do seven things at once!

FATHER: You can’t do the ONE thing you’re supposed to do! Look at your Graduation scores! You study the two weeks before your exams and secure ‘somewhat’ good marks, whereas you know that if you had even a slightly more ‘sporting attitude’ towards the subject, you would’ve scored way more than you did! It’s like somebody is ‘Making’ you study this subject.

ME: I scored alright! 56% isn’t so bad in Literature… there’s a lot of Nepotism and politics in CU. You should bear that in mind.

FATHER: Oh come on! If there HAD been any such nepotism towards YOU, you wouldn’t have graduated at all! And if it were up to me, I would’ve made sure of that!

ME: WHAT!

FATHER: And I’ve been meaning to ask you something else too…

ME: What?

FATHER: Why don’t you have a girlfriend?

ME: What?

FATHER: Stop repeating the same word! Why don’t you have a girlfriend? Is it because you’re so fat? Another question: Why are you so fat?

ME: Look, I can be thin whenever I want to, okay? I’ve proved it, in 2008. I can do it again!

FATHER: Ya, by starving yourself… That’s no way to lose weight!

ME: Well, Ma makes me eat all those things! You know her! She can’t rest until I’m full two times over!

FATHER: Is it? So that means you should’ve lost several kilos when you were on that holiday-slash-work in Delhi. Did you?

ME: No…

FATHER: And what did your Mom have to say about it?

ME: (softly) That I looked ‘healthier’ than I did when I left…

FATHER: So you didn’t control your eating habits even when you could!

ME: Whatever… I’ve already lost weight once. I’m sure I can do it again when I feel like!

FATHER: Ya, well… just make sure the diseases that killed me don’t catch up with you first! I mean, (chuckles) you’re basically in the arms of Diabetes already…

ME: Okay, enough about diseases! Now tell me one thing…

FATHER: What?

ME: Well… what do you think of my… well… that I’m doing a film-making course and... would like to become a director someday?

FATHER: Well… it isn’t the easiest question to answer… But… did I tell you those stories about how I used to sneak off to theatres, stealing changes from your Grandpa’s pocket… even though he literally earned peanuts?

ME: Ya, I still remember them!

FATHER: Well, I don’t think I’ve seen Cinema Paradiso, but since you have, I’ll put in a sneaky reference anyway: I felt exactly how that little boy used to. Sneaking off to the theatres, listening to the steady sound of the projector whirring… black and white pictures coming to life; eerie, supernatural voices making themselves heard in the echoing hall… and I staring, wide-eyed, everytime… at the white screen that became a portal of a whole new world for two hours! I was mesmerized by the cinema, I always have been… and I guess you got this love genetically…

ME: (relieved) So… you’re okay with it?

FATHER: I guess… but just be careful with that world, son! It was a tough world before, and probably still is, I wouldn’t know… The uncertainty is what makes me feel, at times, that you shouldn’t have chosen this field…

ME: (Confused) So, you’re NOT okay with it?

FATHER: I AM okay… as long as you promise to study diligently by the side! Since… well, you NEVER know with this field, y’know!

ME: Ya, of course…

FATHER: And as long as you promise not to become a drunk…

ME: What? No, of course not! I never touch that stuff!

FATHER: (after a pause) You do know that I know when you’re lying, don’t you?

ME: (apologetic) Well, I don’t drink everyday… I mean, I’m not addicted or anything!

FATHER: Well, it doesn’t take time to BECOME addicted, you know! I’ve never touched alcohol in my life. Well, I did help a drunk friend to his place once, which might’ve involved ‘holding’ a bottle for a while, but that’s that! In fact, when I tried a cigarette back when I was a kid, I started coughing like anything!

ME: Ya, I know! I don’t smoke either… as I’m sure you know!

FATHER: Ya, I do… and don’t worry, I’m proud!

ME: Thanks!

FATHER: BUT DON’T DRINK! Especially when you think ‘It’s helping me bond with the people I’m drinking with!’ Do you realize that it’s the worst reason ever for drinking?

ME: Ya, well… I’ll try…

FATHER: You better. Now, I’m done. Is there anything else you’d like to ask?

ME: (excited) Ya… I’ve a few questions: First, How’s Heaven?

FATHER: Good bye!

ME: Come on!!!

FATHER: You ask these questions when you’re calling someone in a séance! And you know this ‘calling’ someone is just pure crap! Ghosts, spirits DO NOT exist!

ME: Oh ya? Then what are you? (mocking) ‘A Figment of my Imagination’? (chuckles)

FATHER: (smiles) Just go complete some stupid documentary you’ve been working on! (becomes serious) And take care of your mother! (adds) And consult a psychiatrist the next time you decide to write another long-winding conversation with you departed dad. This piece might come in handy for the Accusation if you’re ever convicted of being a serial killer, you know! Now go… shoo!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[So... writing this was partly fun, partly too personal, partly intensely political, but mostly too realistic for this sort of a writing. Ya, well, I'm not too sure what all these things mean either. But this piece deserves some sort of an afterword, so what if it's as vague as vague can be?]