Spill over

Rakshanda Ali

Writer

Reasoning. They call it. One may be intelligent enough to play mind games with ‘others’ but can’t deceive oneself. Its biology. Reasoning at times is just a futile exercise—to satisfy, a psychological urge of not being a loser. While as, in the subliminal mind, ‘self’ is always aware of the trickery thee or thy may play.

To deceive the inner core of ‘self’, one has to be a ‘super-man’ or be a ‘God’ but both not possible! The other way to deceive is possible: tear the self from the realization of ‘self’.

Mind is a terrible tool. It has dangerous utilities. Just download an app from the Marx or Freud; upload it, and there you are. Self is just a thought that haunts you! And, anything that reminds you of ‘self’ is ‘drug’ in Marx’s words—which he spelled, for religions. Ultimately, in the words of Kant: ‘self-imposed-immaturity’.

In this state of selflessness, man can be un-manly. Even, a woman can be un-womanly—maybe, like an American novelist, Ayn Rand. Just look at me; how well, I could begin with the denial of any possibility of self deception. And, it ends in the corridors of possibility of self deception. They call it, confusion. Give dog a bad name, and he is a superstar!

I don’t know why I start to write. Something was in my mind, which I lost. My skull was overloaded. Thoughts may have overlapped. Or Derrida would have crept in the cellular form beneath my skull. It deconstructed a well created thought of mine. I had managed to keep myself intact. And, kept writing in pursuit of that original idea—that, I had to pen down.

May be that’s the bad thing about the digitalization of writing. Having a pen and a copy. Thigh as a table. Flip through the empty pages. Roam around the deserted lanes called lines. The sea-saw happening between two fingers. Pen tossing the white sheet. Thoughts would have been intact. But in the digital writing, I could keep clicking the words. The click would have led me to some other ‘network’—where, my server would have gone astray. And, I lost the thought just like the Malaysian Airline!

I really had a thought. Nevertheless my mind made me realize that it is not enough to fill the cranium with information. It needs well handling too. Or for that matter, ‘manhandling’ in my case! As the whole world is governed or mis-handled actually. The handlers are long gone. The reasonable say: “let the bygones be bygone.”

Reason speaks loud, much louder than the spirit. Soul, if unheard, creates psychopaths (in terms of reasonability). Still they call them: ‘mentally disturbed’. How could I ask for a handler—for, if I do; I am disturbing the peace! I am a serious disease for the hybrid society—that has been under the much severe biological attack than anthrax.

Humanity is lost. Man has seized to exist. The original reason is bound to be imprisoned. Man belongs to his creator.

Noah (AS) was not the lone survivor, but he was the only survival kit. So is the resistance now. Till “thy kingdom” comes, I will be manhandled. End of the ‘now-mega-narratives’ is a destiny!

(An avid reader, Rakshanda Ali has done Bachelors in Business Administration. She hails from Srinagar.)

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