The Deceptive Mind
This is purely a work of fiction and is not intended for any one dead or alive. Although it has been written in autobiographical style this is no way related to my experiences or a memoir. Since the content is suited for adult, readers discretion is advised.
After paying my bills at the Café I went to the gaming parlor. I had to get my adrenalin pumping after this grand dud of meeting Gina and ruining my afternoon. This is where we all go wrong, we expect too much and go after them but they treat you like no big deal. Huh! America! That’s the big deal. I stepped into the parlor and found Aron had already left. I had nothing to do at home, so I sat on a gaming machine and started playing Space Commanders. I stayed there for almost 3 hours and blew 200 bucks which was five times more than what I usually do. I was feeling tired and left for home.
It was already sunset and the streets were getting dark. I reached my home and threw my bag on the couch and saw some candies on the table. I picked one up and was eating but something strange hit my mind. They were unusual and my mom can’t make it or we won’t buy it. They looked as if some traditional recipe of eastern side of the country. My heart was not able to anticipate but the logical mind pointed them to Prakriti.
“Mom, how did we get those candies? Did anyone come?”
“Your computer teacher came this evening and she brought those sweets. She was with your grandpa for the most of the time. Why are you looking so pale? Whats wrong with you, why are you trembling, wait don’t go upstairs before having your dinner”
I ran towards the stairs and was about to vanish but I heard my grandpa calling me. His room is right next to the stairs and it is so strategically located that he can see what is going in the hall. I could not have avoided going to his room so there I was standing in front of him. He is a staunch reader of various philosophy books. But I doubt if he can make any sense out of it. Every time he reads a book he gets so inspired by the author that he hangs a picture on the wall. I see on one side there is this picture of Ayn Rand with a cigarette in her hand and quiet opposite to that there is this portrait of Immanuel Kant with his serene smile looking at Ayn. But they both are so contradicting in their ideologies that it looked very strange.
His room had this distinct smell of medicines that you feel like puking. He is so fond of them that for each ailment he keeps three different kinds of medicines from Allopathic, Homeopathy and Ayurveda. He had 3 different shelves and named them after those 3 branches of medicine and then labeled the medicines for what it corresponds to. There are so many bottles that the room smells like a chemistry lab. I would give hundred bucks that can stand there for 5 mins.
He used to keep a walking stick next to him, though he never used it for walking yet he always had it handy. He had a habit of pointing the stick to the person he is talking. He raises the stick to your nose level that it looks so intimidating when talking to him.
While I was standing there with utter dismay and anxiety he raised his stick and said “How is it going boy?”
“Pretty well grandpa, pretty well, you don’t know how interesting the college is. These days I have this special interest in computers and they make me work all day on them”
“Computers eh! Very nice, can you just bring me that eucalyptus oil from that shelf and pull a chair”
I took the bottle from his shelf and gave it to him.
“Come sit down, we need to talk”
I sat near the window and kept my elbow on the sill and there was this Murphy radio which was turned on all day. It was always tuned to one station and usually the one which gives lots of news and welfare and development programs for the underprivileged. It was evening time so there was some program for little kids. The window was open and a cool breeze was brushing me softly.
“Discipline” this word he stressed and interjected loudly. It usually means that it will take a long time for him to finish. “Discipline is what you guys are lacking, when I was a boy like you all I had to do was to study and respect elders. Do you even know the meaning of respect boy?
“Yes grandpa I know, I scored well in English”
“Are you sarcastic mister?”
“No, I mean I am able to understand what you are talking and I agree that this generation lacks all those good qualities that you people had”
“Hmm, so you agree that you have not been able to be respectful, why is this Goddamn cap so tight. Every time it spills on my pajamas. Nobody maintains quality these days. You know in 1946 I bought Rex Shoes made out of leather and I used them till you were born. Your grandma threw them away or else I would have shown you. She thought they were ripped off, bah, I could have stitched them myself”
I swear that the breeze is really having an effect on me, besides the radio too has been too much of a distraction.
“Boy, are you studying well? How are your grades? Why do you look so pale? Your computer teacher asked me to visit your college to have a look at your scores. Don’t turn away, look at me.”
My eyes were dropped dead and I was half conscious with a mixed attention on my grandpa and the radio.
“I never thought you would become this…..Mary had a little lamb Mary had a little lamb….In those days I was appreciated for just being polite…..Wheels of the bus go round and round all through the town……I didn’t spare your dad, don’t expect me to be soft and all…..One two buckle my shoe…
I didn’t know when I slept but I was woken up by my mom in the night and asked me to have my dinner and go to my bed. I saw my grandpa was fast asleep with his mouth wide open and snoring heavily like a tractor. I took a couple of bagels and rushed into my room and didn’t bother to eat them and slipped into a deep slumber.