Reema once told him that the world was getting even more ridiculous everyday and thus even if hope ran out someday humor never will.
So whenever humor ever tried to run away from his life, he delved in nostalgia of all his days when "love was in the air" for him. He had a habit of becoming utterly stupid when in love that he needed no other comic than his past to make him laugh.
Most of us are like that. We remember our school days of how stupid a teacher was or how foolish one of our friends were. These reflecting people add humor to our otherwise mundane lives. But the comic protagonist in his life was his own self drugged by love.
Most of us are like that. We remember our school days of how stupid a teacher was or how foolish one of our friends were. These reflecting people add humor to our otherwise mundane lives. But the comic protagonist in his life was his own self drugged by love.
Well, he was an otherwise cool guy but just in love he used to get mushy to is girlfriends with sentences like 'I see a lake in your eyes'. He would wait for umpteen hours in the Delhi sun for one of his girlfriends. He lost so many umbrellas in Bombay rain during his love-in-the-air days. And he so many times missed his Kalghat metro station in Kolkata for his Bong girlfren. He merely became puppets to his puppeteer girlfriens. His one of his girlfriends liked trekkers, he went to one of the treks but he kept his facebook name as "Trekker Moi" (moi=me). He once never shaved because his one of the girlfriends liked unshaven guys.
He once told me that love is nothing but a drug. And for some men its not suited. The rehab part is utterly sad.
Anyways now he is back to senses and his own cool self. He loves to travel alone to the dark forest in pursuit of something I am not aware of. Last time we met, he quoted Salman Rushdie to me :
"Every man who has reached even his intellectual teens begins
to suspect that life is no farce; that it is not genteel comedy even; that it
flowers and fructifies on the contrary out of the profoundest tragic depths of
the essential dearth in which its subject’s roots are plunged. The natural life
of everyone who is capable of spiritual life is an unsubdued forest where the
wolf howls and the obscene bird of night chatters."
