Dr. Siri and Blah – part 2

Dr. Siri: So what’s one of those days like, Blah?

Moments of silence….

Dr. Siri: I like how we have started. We haven’t set any expectations, though. Are you here just to know what I think about what you think, Blah?

Blah: That’s right.

Dr. Siri: And nothing else?

Blah: That’s right. Nothing else.

Dr. Siri: Not fair enough. I practise psychiatry. Someone would come to me if they have a problem with the way they think or behave. What’s your problem? What would you like to change about yourself?

Blah (with saucer-eyes): I have no problem whatsoever!

Dr. Siri: I am sorry to say Blah that I can’t chat with you just like that. You need to be a patient, and I need to treat you, to be able to discuss things with you.

Blah: Hmmm.. I’ll bait you with two things for you to listen me out.

Dr. Siri is slightly amazed at Blah’s bluntness, but is interested in knowing his proposal. 

Dr. Siri: Interesting. Go on. (She tries to show that she’s being considerate, and her tone suggests that Blah gets to business fast.)

Blah: One: I can be your research subject. Two: After listening to me, if you think I need psychiatric help, I might consider that depending on how well you convince me.

Dr. Siri: Hah!

Blah: What does your ‘hah!’ mean, doctor?

Dr. Siri: I mean, you bought me.

Dr. Siri smiles broadly. Blah smiles in a self-restrained manner.

Dr. Siri: Let’s get started, then. I believe this is a one-time session?

Blah: You are very intelligent. I love you already. (To this, Dr. Siri blushes very slightly, which Blah doesn’t notice. Dr. Siri is surprised at her own secret reaction). I am very impatient, yes!

Dr. Siri: How long do you reckon this discussion would last?

Blah: I am not sure. Big B would be back in 3 days. It should not take more than an entire day.

Dr. Siri: Let me tell you, I will need a couple of breaks.

Blah: Sure, doc!

Dr. Siri: Ace! So tell me, what’s one of those days like, Blah?

….to be continued

Dr. Siri and Blah – part 1

Dr. Siri: Hello, Dr. Siri. How do you do?

Blah: Hello Dr. Siri. I am Blah. I would say I don’t know how I feel. It’s one of those days, you can’t blame me. Thanks for asking, though.

Dr. Siri: Blah, that’s alright. Would you like to tell me, what one of those days is like?

Blah: Well…Let me begin by telling you that my head is absolutely fine. I do not need any psychiatric help. I am here just to tell you something that I haven’t told anyone. In all these years. When I feel what I feel when it’s one of those days.

Dr. Siri: Has anyone told you that you need psychiatric help?

Blah: No. No one has.

Dr. Siri: So you came here by yourself. But you don’t think you need any psychiatric help. Is that right?

Blah: That sounds right!

Dr. Siri: Cool! Going back to what you said earlier, looks like there’s noodles cooking in your head. I mean, lots of thinking going on in there. Anyway, why would you meet me in the first place, when you don’t think you need any psychiatric help? Let’s begin by answering that question. Let’s set some expectations first, Blah.

Blah: Fair enough. I’ll shoot my reasons:
1. You, Dr. Siri, are not a human being. I don’t want to tell a human being.
2. You, Dr. Siri, are a a psychiatrist. I can expect you to tell me what you think about what I think, by thinking objectively, logically, and without any biases.

Dr. Siri (clearing her throat): That’s a lot of thinking involved. So you would have met a human psychiatrist. But because they would have been humans, you would not.

Blah: Precisely. Likewise, I could have told a Persian cat, or a bulldog, or a stone, for that matter. But it’d be better continuing to talk to myself and debate with myself, than talking to a Persian cat, or a bulldog, or a stone, for that matter.

Dr. Siri: Riiiight… No humans because?

Blah: Because I don’t feel like telling most things to anyone. Or sharing with anyone.

Dr. Siri: Now you do, So why (Blah cuts in)

Blah: Before you say anything further, I don’t. I don’t feel like sharing. I am just curious to know what someone would think of what I think. Without being leaky. Or preachy. Or judgmental. Now that’s tricky, isn’t that? And yeah, I want to know from someone who can think logically, and not like a spastic emotionally-burdened dork.

Dr. Siri: You certainly make me feel good about myself.

Blah smiles a bit. Dr. Siri notes a couple things in her mind, for later.

Dr Siri: So, what’s one of those days like, Blah?

….to be continued

A baby that’s mine..

Two large sparkling beads remind me of

The innocence of jumping rabbits.

That softest face, I want to protect

From every grappling touch and kiss.

Those golden brown curls

Dance on the slightest breeze.

The long lashes on those two beads

Hardly ever blink; they can melt any freeze.

His six teeth show whenever he

Laughs for no reason or cries for every reason.

His babble is so much more interesting

Than any psychology lesson.

The slightest eyebrows are raised

To the fullest to look around.

The tiny fingers clutch anything

Old and new; square or round.

I saw him crawl, I see him walk

I see him run and grow.

It scares me that one day

The world he will know.

Of things that never happened..

Hey!! After a long long time. I feel like an old woman would. Things I could do…time running out…aching joints…cellulite and stretch marks…nostalgia…ah!! nostalgia, of things that never happened.

The weather is perfect. All of us could sit in a car, hit the road, sing and go places. I know that will never happen. We will never have enough money. Nor enough interest.

I see nice pillow cushions on online shopping websites. The ones I would like to put on my home pillows. The ones my friends would grab and play with, and rest their heads on to discuss things. To make plans. To joke. But that won’t happen. Simply won’t.

These thoughts take me to the sepia, to nostalgia. Of things that never happened.

The sea

I’ll rest on this hammock by the green-blue sea. The sea like my life, beautiful and mysterious. Till today, every moment has been beautiful. And like every next moment, unknown, mysterious.
I can only sit and gaze at the beauty. Never go beyond the wavy surface or the line where the sun sets.
The seasons come and go. Sometimes light and happy. Sometimes strong and hard.
The birds fly past. The fragrances enchant. But everything that comes, goes. Nothing stays.
It goes away leaving a lingering memory behind. Engraving a story in my mind.
Nothing takes me away. Nothing stays. Just leaves an imprint on me.
I sit and ponder. But I cannot get deeper than the shimmering surface of the sea. Even if I dive, the sea is too big for me.
It’s my own sea but I don’t know much about it.

I am oblivion

Hey you black and yellow caterpillar! I like the way you walk, with each leg following the other, creating a ripple. Hitler’s soldiers did not march this amazing. Are you aware that your walk, your tiny legs are studied? Or do you just keep walking to where your zillion legs take you?

You buzzing mosquitoes! You blood-suckers! Man invented mosquito repellents, nets, coils, and tabs to kill you. To shoo you away. They kill your grubs with slick oils. But do you give a damn? Or do you even know that you are getting only stronger? To kill more beings with your thinnest proboscis – dengue, malaria, filaria, encephalitis… Oh poor one! Do you even know, that when you suck blood to feed your eggs, you inject these diseases into peoples’ blood?

Puppies! The boisterous ones outside office, how you jump on everyone you see! And wag your tails, and lick, and run around like crazy, for lots of food and some love! Do you even know that most of the people here hate you? Send around emails so that you are put away to some dangerous place you don’t know? Tie you up all through the day for reasons you can’t fathom? A handful of people who like you, fight for you. Do you know that? How would you, you just continue to be playful, even as you grow.

And you plants, do you know why they grow you and take care of you? So that they can cut you and prepare soup and drink it.

And the goat tethered there, they feed you a lot, and you give them a feast. Do you know that, you dumb one?

And you girl, Karen, every time you smile, I feel good. That sweet smile assures me everything is right. Do you know that?

I am an open book. Written in Hebrew.

Crutches & Wings

Hanging out on the footboard of the train, with a stub for his right leg, and a silver-diamond cross looking huge around his tiny black neck, he swayed his bandanna in the air. His hand was perpetually out, and he was smiling to himself. Singing an unknown song, blowing out kisses in the air to unseen girls and gods.

He hung on to his life of stubs and crutches like a crazy free bird.

PS: If it’s given to you, it can’t be called freedom.