My Totalitarian Society

I am falling in quality. The writer in me is dead. I don’t know when or how he died. He just did. And I miss him. I spend time these days listening to music. My sleep cycle has been distorted. I am losing more and more classes by the week. I thought it would get better, but it is only getting worse. I can no longer wake up in the mornings. It is as though I am beginning to abhor the rays of the sun itself. I spend more time with a smaller and smaller group of people. Unlike before, I don’t want to run around in large groups all the time. I am liking being alone. Especially in my room, with my books and my food. I shouln’t have purchased food. I shouldn’t in the future. I have been listening to the same song for the past 10 minutes. I like the song. I don’t know what half the words mean. I once had a friend. He taught me how to listen to the lyrics of a song along with its music. Since then, even though the music was bad, I would listen to a few songs because I liked their lyrics. But now, again, I’ve lost my interest in the lyrics. Only the music. My old collection of good-music songs is lost. It happened when my laptop broke down. I am now spending useful time these days trying to find new-music. I found one a few days back, the one I am listening to. It is surprising how music can affect your thoughts. It tells you what to think and how. It gives you a cinematic feel. It raises the curtains without so much as a whisper. The actors tumble out onto the stage, with the only promise of a good exit. That too if only they put up a good show. And that they do! I like it when a movie plays in my head. I can be in a big, fancy theatre, with the whole room to myself. Or probably someone else with me. Not a girl, not someone to hold hands with. Only to see what his or her reaction would be to being alone in a big, fancy theatre. With a nice and mushy movie playing. My dreams in the night are like this. Or not my dreams. The few minutes I spend awake just before falling asleep, thinking of something to send me to sleep. I like the big, fancy theatre. Maybe it is my demise. I spend so much time awake in the theatre watching a movie that does not exist, I spend my mornings sleeping. It doesn’t matter how many alarms ring – I switch them all off – or how many people bang on my door – I tell them I am already awake and getting ready – I always sleep till noon. I have no time to write my book these days. It was all going well till my laptop crashed. I lost 200 pages then and there. It is not a good feeling to start anew on the dream of your life. 200 pages is no small thing. Two of my friends helped me get back on track. One of them said shit happens, the other said it was what I deserved. One encouraged, one discouraged. It was a perfect combination. I like having challenges that others can’t solve. I had a  Sanskrit teacher at school who once told me about a devotee of Krishna. The devotee, he said, prayed to the Lord everyday, asking Him for all the challenges one could face in life, and along with it, the mind to tackle them. That is a perfect prayer because it is not selfish. It is deserving of a devotee to be blessed like that. The challenges and the mind to tackle them. I only wish the rest of my classmates had listened to him, the Sanskrit professor, with more interest and sincerety. I listened to him with interest and sincerely so. Those words became my prayer. But, at some point, you lose track of what is a challenge and what is not. Everything becomes a challenge, and your belief in Go becomes fanatical. You become a religious zealot. You think God is touch with always, and he is testing you always. You begin to think you are special, one of a kind, while you are only becoming more and more mad. In the end, which is I think the beginning of this madness itself, you become shunned. Your mind collapses into your body. You become a materialist. Your faith in God is saturated with meaningless prayers. You look for pleasure, for entertainment. When that happens, you negate the existence of God. You call him a scoundrel for screening all these pleasures of life away from you. You ask him why it is your apparent duty to worship Him when he has done nothing for you. He, obviously, will not seem to answer. You will look for newer and newer faiths. Newer realms of pleasure. To err is human, and therein lies the end to this tale. To err. We err. I do. I know you do. I know he does, and I know she does. Everyone does. It is natural to do so. Which is why we have given perfection the title of godliness. It is a surrender. Society, today, is a growing farce. When everyone who is part of it is a fake, how can the society itself be real? Would you call a zoo full of plastic animals a real zoo? Isn’t it a toy zoo? I think it is. The society is fake, a duplicate. It has become a simulation. You can only use it to see Utopia. But the real Utopia can only exist when there are real people in the world. As long as there are no real people, there will only be a fake Utopia. Fake politicians will fight for fake governments. Fake diplomats will argue over fake agreements. Fake soldiers will wage fake wars. Fake teachers will teach fake subjects, and fake students will take down fake notes. Fake people will have sex and give birth to fake babies. Yes, I do ask you not to dispute the innocence of a just born child. but, if a child is destined to be brough up in a fake society, I do not believe in the fake innocence the child will come to bear. Sometimes, people deserve to know the truth. So many movies are made. Good movies. These movies have such strong messages against totalitarianism. But they fail at one point. It is not governments that are totalitarian. It is the society. It is a fake society that knows it is fake. It is a deliberate debauchery. The people know they are not for real. It is not a totalitarian government we should be afraid of. The threat is the totalitarian society.  

0 Comments on “My Totalitarian Society

  1. ‘ So many movies are made. Good movies.’
    now get to work and write one kick ass script for me…
    spend some time with me n the writer in your head will rise from the dead… and become writer-the silver.

    Like

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