Beep! Rubumbum rubumbum...dti dti dti dti dti dtak dtak.. And thus began the beat. The fugitive is running amidst sparse traffic at midnight of a day in 1993. Having stabbed a Muslim in a communal fight, a RSS (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh) member fled. As I looked at the slim pious looking man narrating the story of his life I was mortified. This man had rescued me from a wretch. Another reel forward. "Naataka naataka beedhi naataka, snehitare mathu hethaishigale..."(A play, a play, a street play, my friends and well-wishers...). In 1998 I walked with a man who called me his little sister. We talked about revolution and revolutionaries. I am not sure if he wanted to impress 'lil sis' but he confessed that he had considered joining ULFA (United Liberation Front of Asom) when they invited him. 'Creep' I told myself when I saw him drunk with members of his group on the terrace of our campsite. 'Intellectuals' walked in and out of my life. Men and women....
Many parallel universes built together by a few percent of the mind. A contradicting power house that brings down roofs of unresiding thoughts.