The PhenoMENON

Have you ever wondered, what it would be like to be blessed with a silver tongue? To be able to talk your way into or out of anything? I am not really the sharpest knife in the drawer, and can never manage to get myself to express all my thoughts out vocally. I’m the king of comebacks, the only problem is that witty retorts aren’t cool when they’re five minutes late. More often than I’d like to admit, when it comes to talking I often end up with my foot stuck in my mouth. Quite an unlikely oddity for a guy who likes to write, isn’t it? Okay that’s enough of Joey bashing for now, this post is actually about my friend Karan who is everything that I’m not.10310164_10152186952658590_8831167223208027013_n

Karan is the only guy I know who has managed to seamlessly fit into his own name with such perfection, that his name is almost synonymous with his persona. He has successfully managed to turn his name into an adjective to describe peculiar quirks, that could only be expected out of him. For example if I was sitting at a rather dull party, like master Yoda on Dagobah, all I’d do is observe everyone around me, make mental notes, share an occasional smile, and wonder why I even decided to turn up for the event.

Master Yoda on Dagobah. I think my facial expression would also be the same.

Master Yoda on Dagobah. I think my facial expression would also be the same.

Whereas when Karan steps into the same said party, you’d sense an awakening in the force. You’d be able to sense his presence even before you see him. Karan is the personification of flamboyance. If you checked Wikipedia for flamboyant you’d probably get his profile. His persona however doesn’t always work in his favour. I know people who have misunderstood him and avoided him like Pandora’s box, in my opinion it’s their loss.

There are things that you could only expect Karan to do and get away with. If you ever happen to witness something like that, then you’ve witnessed a phenomenon that I call the Karan moment. There was this one time Karan and I were standing outside an ATM since I needed some dough. There was a guy wasting time at the machine. After about three minutes I turned to Karan and said, “this monkey is taking forever, I wonder if he even knows how to operate the damn thing!” That was all I said, and the next thing you know, Karan was inside the kiosk checking the guys ATM slip and asking him what he was trying to do. Now that’s a classic ‘Karan’ moment. I don’t think I know anyone who could get away with invasion of privacy like that. But in the end he helped the ignorant fool and saved the day.

Another time we were at Dunkin’ Donuts, and Karan pulled a flawless ‘Karan‘ yet again. This happened sometime in May last year. Dunkin’ Donuts had just opened up all over Bombay, and they had an offer everyone who got to their outlets on the first day would get a book full of coupons for free donuts for the rest of the year. On the opening day the lines outside Dunkin’ were like an unending python. There was no way that I was going to waste my time standing in a line for free donuts. About a week later, we happened to stop by Dunkin’. Karan randomly started talking to the manager about his love for donuts and how the Dunkin’ outlet he’d been to in Delhi was quite amazing, while Jervis and I ordered our donuts. Then just out of the blue the manager went to the back and got out the last remaining coupon booklet and handed it over to the man with the silver tongue. It was like Karan had passed some kind of subliminal communication to get what he needed without actually even asking for it. It was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but laugh.

Why exactly am I writing all this? I was reminiscing about my friend and felt like appreciating him. There’s a lot of things that I could tell you about this guy. About how he is like Pandora’s box. What people don’t realize however is that in the end the only thing left in Pandora’s box was hope. If there’s one thing that I should highlight about Karan, it is the fact that he always manages to speak hope into everyone’s lives. And that will always make him one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering on my journey through life. It’s like that quote by Stephen King from Shawshank Redemption, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

What Am I Doing Here?

With the dawn of the, ever so hyped, new year I joined the bandwagon of mindless clones and sort of made a generic new year resolution. I told myself that I should update my blog more often rather than being so sporadic. If you’ve gone through my blog, you’d have noticed that I really don’t have a particular writing theme for my blog. I’m not even a professional writer. So here comes the imperative question, what am I doing here? It’s one of the three main questions man has always asked himself from the beginning of time. i.e. Who am I? What am I doing here? Where can a guy get a drink around here? So sitting here with my legs stretched out and my brother’s laptop on my lap, I’m wondering what I’m doing with this blog? Why am I writing? What is all this for?

I’ll get back to my question in a bit, for now I’ll just step away to look at art for what it is. Art in my opinion is the purest form of creation. Everyone is born an artist. It’s just that some of us grew in to fill those shoes perfectly while the rest of us either got distracted or were persuaded to explore more lucrative goals. Leaving the artist trapped inside a dark, dank, tiny little box. If you look at children you’ll see what I mean. We are all born artists. Children are always creating art. They’re drawing on paper, on the floor, on the walls.

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They watch a dance on TV and soon they’re dancing away, they keep on dancing till that dance has turned into something completely unique and is far different from the original. Similarly they listen to a song and then you’ll find them singing the same thing over and over again, the words a mess of mumbles and without even giving it a second thought they’ve created an remix. Kids are always showcasing their art. They don’t care who’s watching or appreciating their talents, they’re just having fun. Finally there comes a point where only their parents find it endearing and people like me soon try to avoid them.

The child artist soon grows up and is often forced to give up on his art. Often by people who he looks up to. These are the people who simply can’t appreciate art. They’d rather watch the world burn and tell you that art never pays. The artist is hinted down, sent on exile or sentenced to death.

For the really unlucky artist. Death. By Exile.

The remaining few who manage to trap bits of that inner child artist find themselves doing things that they don’t really enjoy. In rare moments you’ll see a glimpse of the little artist step out, like at a pub, you just might see that corporate guy in a suit and tie, suddenly break out into an air guitar solo when he hears his favorite song. In a boardroom meeting you may see that one guy who’s doodling rather than paying attention. What about the storytellers who didn’t get to be writers? You’ll find them trolling the internet all night. All because somebody with good intentions dissuaded the artist from exploring that truest form of creativity.

The idea of art is to have fun. Life is meant to be fun. Humans weren’t designed to work. It’s just not natural. If it were, we wouldn’t get tired working. So getting back to my question. What am I doing here? What is all this for? I’m here to have fun, I’m here to be crazy. Art doesn’t have a purpose. Art is the ultimate goal. I’ll not tax myself with a generic resolution to write more often. I’ll just let my imagination run wild and let my personal angel of art bring me divine ideas of inspiration. Let’s work together at making 2015 a year of artistic expressions.