An Idiot's Tale

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An Idiot's Tale

Cacography of a madcap story teller, JAYEETA GHORAI

Left: (sigh)

Back: Eh, what now?

Left: (irritated and dejected) Nothing.

Forward: There you go again! First you begin and then leave it unsaid halfway.

Left: (protesting) But I didn't-

Back: No. No? Yeah, right!

Right: Stop badgering her for once. You seem like at war with yourself.

Forward: (annoyed) Tell us something new, pray?

Back: Who starts it? Look at her, now, all distracted and aloof.

Forward: If only she'd take us into confidence. Just for once.

Left: I-

Back, Forward: (in unison, eagerly) Yes?

Right: (looking sharp)

Left: My garrulity irritates me. Am trying to hold my tongue.

Forward: (muttering) There we go. Again.

Back: You? Holding your-? Hrumph, only from us!

Right: But don't you see? To speak is to trivialise.

Left: (perking up) Exactly. Somehow...I don't know, to put in words is to bring too much into the light.

Right: Some things are best left unsaid.

Back: Now don't you go borrowing her husband's stand. Isn't she the writer who says nothing is beyond words? That everything can be expressed?

Forward: (smirking) And the master communicator...she abhors communicating?

Right: She let slip a lot of emotions recently. Letting her words get away with her.

Left: (sigh, murmur) So uncomfortable.

Back: It is as if she's afraid of her voice.

Left: But I am! Almost...afraid...

Right: Yes, darling. You're painfully shy. We know.

Forward: (incredulous) So she'll shut her trap in redemption for that excess.

Left: (relapsed into silence, distracted)

Right: Too much attention, speaking up.

Left: (from far away, like in a dream) Too much I...too much self...oh don't you see?

Right: Yes. We're trying to be quiet here.

Left: To revert...

Right: To erase...

Forward: We are trying to slink out of existence...

Back: You are trying to recede into the shelter of the womb?

Left: (feverishly) To not exist...

Right: To speak is also a form of action. To speak is to birth your naked inner self to public glare. Words, ah, they draw attention.

Back: (indulgently) You've always broken silence like a torpedo, Leftie. That is your charm. Either nothing, or too much of passion.

Left: (sharp breath, a stifled cry almost)

Forward: But look here, you do have opinions.

Right: (almost inaudible) Too many of them.

Left: (crying out) How can I? Oh don't you see, I speak of Acceptance and hold opinions. I speak of Flexibility and have very strong preferences...

Back: But child, they are yours - your opinions...

Left: ...don't you see the hypocrisy?...

Back: But you don't ask anyone else to subscribe to them...

Forward: (contemptuous) To never hold an opinion is positively wishy-washy.

Left: But that's double standards!

Forward: Oh stop muddling yourself with standards! Theories! Neither here not there.

Left: (sigh, looking miserable)

Right: We all know we think, can't stop that machinery. She tries to gulp in her words so the outside has no clue what those thoughts are.

Back: Look here Leftie, are you happy?

Forward: With your life's choices, are you at peace?

Left: (looks up dreamily, beatific) Yes... (whispers) oh yes!

Right: Then it doesn't matter...

Back: ...if you speak or don't...

Forward: ...exactly! It doesn't...

Left: I'm going to die. Till then I'm going to live.

Right: There is no other way to exist.

Back: Look, honey, you at least have got the order correct. Most don't.

Forward: They die as they live. And in the moment of death, they suddenly sit up and struggle to come alive.

Right: You've nailed the essence. One trouble less.

Back: Self-effaciveness won't take you crawling to your mortality any faster. So stop feeling sorry for your outbursts, embrace yourself.

Left: (murmurs) It is such a relief, there is death.

Back: The panacea of existence.

Forward: I wish I could guarantee no rebirth as easily.

Left: No reincarnation. No more life.

Back: If only I was spared that.

Right: (lightly coughing) Perhaps we can leave off that discussion for another time?




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