Love, Laughter, and a Hole in the Head

Among the many things that intrigue me is the fact that all morons have girlfriends, and they look exactly like them—only with a ponytail. They share the same impeccable habits: shouting on public transports, munching food with their mouths open so lesser mortals like us can admire their dental cavities and witness the artistic splatter of curries. They perform funny caricatures while dancing, and of course, many other things that are, frankly, not printable. But you may ask, how do I know so much about morons? The answer is simple: I prowl at night to observe these strange beasts. Sometimes you don’t see them, but they leave pug marks and a trail of destruction in their wake.

This sets my imagination on fire, wondering what transpired in the grasslands they recently grazed. Munching sounds… loud banter and jokes that you are almost relieved to have missed… and grimacing faces as they dance their tribal jigs. All part of a grand Tsunami soirée that your life mercifully dodged on that fateful doomsday.

And of course, why shouldn't it be this way? After all, there’s an Eve for every Adam. Some say God designed it that way, except Adam’s apple sits neatly in the throat, while Eve lingers all over the psyche. But don’t fool yourself into thinking they’ll believe in something simple like, “Atma nikal jaati hai to sirf shareer reh jata hai.” Yet when you’re metaphorically dead inside while they dance, they suddenly grasp the philosophy. Simple souls! Prefixed with a capital ‘A.’

If you carbon date these creatures by scratching beneath the surface of this monkey business, you’ll find their ancestry dangling upside down from the trees, trying to yank cassava roots out of the ground. The dancing? Oh yes, straight from that noble lineage. Between nature and nurture, nature always takes the larger share when truth rears its ugly head.

Now, you may not believe this, but one dark night on my way to the grocery, I spotted two couples perched on banyan trees, having what appeared to be soulful conversations. Yes, soulful. Deep, meaningful exchanges, like, “Bhaiya, more chutney!” or “Arre, that reel got two million views.” But this one caught my attention, "What will you do if your parents don’t approve of the marriage?". "Simple, I'll just keep searching until I find another rat with the exact same hole in its head!" It was a scene so tender, I half-expected them to break into synchronized munching. You see, even in the trees, nature’s dance persists—swinging from the branches of life, like bananas waiting to ripen in the light of pure nonsense.

But if you listen closely, as I did, you'll hear it: the sound of evolution taking a long nap.