Sunday, June 7, 2009

Of Allegories On The Crying Game & The Unbearable Lightness Of Being

Its dark outside. The neighborhood dogs are barking, probably barking at some lone rangers who are walking the dark ramp. Being young has its perks, one of which is walking the abandoned tar and second, being barked at by zealous hounds who've been unleashed for the nocturnal tides.

i know. i used to be a dark lone ranger. there's no secrets to becoming one, matter of fact, it hinges directly on the night you left that protective shell called the foetus and was forced, palpitations included, to make that entry into the world.

We all come into the world crying and from here on, its pretty much the crying game.

They made a movie along that line. It was also called "The Crying Game." Here the circumstances are a little more suave. Its an IRA soldier, a stunning hooker and an English prisoner. The English prisoner becomes the IRA's hostage. The soldier is brave and sharp...he knows the nature of the IRA. He's being interrogated and in between, he tells this little story.

 "There was a scorpion, stranded on the banks of a stream (a brook?). He calls out to the frog begging him to ship him over yonder. The frog is no slouch. He politely declines citing the dangerous sting and the venom that might do him in. The scorpion is persistent, going so far as to illustrate the stupidity of it all were he to bite the frog. I mean, Com'n ! If i stung you we'd both be drowning! Just a little lift from here to there is all I'm asking huh? One little ride man, Com'on!? The frog is overwhelmed by the scorpion's persuasiveness and insight. Yeah, he's right. What's the harm? I mean we 're in the water and he's banking on me to save his life! 
So the frog gives in and riding his back, the two set forth.

And then they're half-way through when the frog feels this stinging sensation. Like someone poked him with a needle.
The realisation sets in. He's been bit!
"Now why'd you do that? is all the frog can summon looking back at his fatal hitchhiker. The scorpion looks as bewildered as the frog. He then says, "Sorry! I couldn't help it. Its in my nature!" 
The water gushes on as the frog turns belly up and the scorpion is looking at a slow death by drowning.

The English did what they did. The IRA does what they do. The soldier, meanwhile, falls in love with the most beautiful hooker he's ever seen. He still can't fathom why he's falling in love with her.
In the bedroom they're both getting undressed. She's got male genitalia!

The barks are now few and far-between. Strange! This Saturday night feels like a weekend gone all melancholic. There's an air of nostalgia in the locales. Could it be possible that tonight, all of Thimphu's getting the downer?

I came back to this desk to bury my head in and find myself veering off-the-road. The facebook opens and there's concern regarding a note full of rage I'd left behind on my wall. There's  Garfield doing the honors with that look of his and the note basically tells everyone to fcvk off.
A part of me is happy to see the concern. The rest of me is pleased. I'd been happier if someone tagged a line saying, "Yeah, right, fcvk 'em all!"

Much like the DNA inherent in the scorpion, its in our nature to desire and destroy; feeding the crying game over and over. But its also in our nature to detach and delve, into calm mental realms and just fcvkin' be.

The simple observation that I'm alive makes me clueless. The fact that we're clueless about being clueless is another instant clue.  Add 'em all up and pretty soon, as Kundera neatly put it, you get high or dry on this  bewildering "Unbearable Lightness of Being."

PS: As the anecdotes were drawn from a rampant ad hoc memoriam,  i offer my apologies if mine should differ from the movie or the book but it must be said that the writer wrote with complete deference to the subjects and the actual work of art as illustrated above in their original avatars.

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