It might be a dream. Only a dream. But Amir can’t be sure.
The figure in front looks real enough. Amir glances at the window. The curtains are drawn and just below them, he can see a thin blue carpet of morning light. It must be around five in the morning.
How was he awake? Nobody woke him up, his parents were asleep in their bedroom upstairs and he was almost sure that there hadn’t been any noise or rattle to break his sleep. Yet, he had woken up, more peacefully than ever before, as if he wasn’t actually asleep, only lying down with his eyes closed.
And then when he looked up, he saw this man, sitting on the corner of his bed, feet down, only his silhouette visible by the light coming from the adjoining dining room. For more than five minutes now, Amir had been looking at this figure, the figure looking at him, both silent. Oddly, Amir felt no great surprise or fear at first sight of the figure, almost as if he expected it to be there, as if he wanted it to be there.
It can’t be a dream.
‘Who are you?’, the figure finally broke the silence. His voice was even, controlled, like a man sure of what he was saying or asking.
‘Who are you?’, Amir asked in reply.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
Who was he? For a moment, Amir felt like getting up, switching the lights on, to kill the suspense, but something within urged him not to do so. He wanted to move his legs, his hands, but they seemed to have frozen, unable to move. Or was it he holding them back? He couldn’t be sure.
‘Why do you ask me this question? What is that you want to know?’, Amir asked after this brief moment of hesitation.
‘Just describe yourself.’
It was quite a funny game he was playing here, Amir thought. This might be a dream (can’t really be reality, can it?), and if it was a dream, where was the harm in getting on with it?
‘I am Amir…a nineteen-year old boy…born on the 7th of June, 1985…living in New Delhi right now… with my parents…ummm…thats it.’
‘Be precise.’
‘What do you mean?’
The figure sighed, shuffled a bit in its position, his face fixed on Amir all the time.
‘Are you sure of what you just said?’
‘Well,’ Amir said, half laughing, ‘there is hardly anything to be sure of. I am Amir and I was born in 1985. Is there anything to be wrong about there?’
‘But that isn’t what you said.’
Amir stared back at the figure. What was he exactly getting at? What sort of answer did he want?
‘OK. I am Amir, born into this world on the 7th of June, 1985. Does that satisfy you?’
‘How can you be so sure about the date?’
Now, this was getting silly. Amir began to feel a little irritated, not able to see the point in it all.
‘You don’t think I was there to note down the time and date of my own birth?’, Amir replied, a hint of restlessness very much noticeable, ‘My parents told me that it was in the evening of that day that I first saw this world, and I choose to believe them. Will this do for you?’
‘Tell me what you know. You alone.’
Amir clicked his tongue, tired of this seemingly silly dialogue. What does this man mean when he says ‘You Alone’? Did I know anything straight from my birth, from my mother’s womb, or wherever and whatever I was before that? Isn’t everything I know been told to me by the entities around me, living and non-living? And did I ever have a choice not to believe them and think otherwise?
‘I’m not sure I know exactly what you mean, but if I do, then I’ll just say that if there is anything I know, if there is anything I’m reasonably sure of, it is this – I am called Amir, and I’m living in 2004 A.D.. Saying anything else would be incorrect as per your question, I think.’
‘You answer correctly, my dear friend. Well, almost! Make sure you remember this answer. Remember that there is hardly anything else you can be reasonably sure of, and absolutely nothing else you can be confidently definite about.’
‘I don’t think I understand you.’
‘You will, eventually. Just remember what I’ve told you.’
And then, the figure disappeared, his silhouette dissolving into the air, as if it was never there anyway.
Amir woke up from his mother’s call at around eight in the morning. He could recall the meeting with the mysterious figure with remarkable clarity, but he couldn’t really make up his mind as to whether it happened for real or was it only a dream, a fantasy.
The figure in front looks real enough. Amir glances at the window. The curtains are drawn and just below them, he can see a thin blue carpet of morning light. It must be around five in the morning.
How was he awake? Nobody woke him up, his parents were asleep in their bedroom upstairs and he was almost sure that there hadn’t been any noise or rattle to break his sleep. Yet, he had woken up, more peacefully than ever before, as if he wasn’t actually asleep, only lying down with his eyes closed.
And then when he looked up, he saw this man, sitting on the corner of his bed, feet down, only his silhouette visible by the light coming from the adjoining dining room. For more than five minutes now, Amir had been looking at this figure, the figure looking at him, both silent. Oddly, Amir felt no great surprise or fear at first sight of the figure, almost as if he expected it to be there, as if he wanted it to be there.
It can’t be a dream.
‘Who are you?’, the figure finally broke the silence. His voice was even, controlled, like a man sure of what he was saying or asking.
‘Who are you?’, Amir asked in reply.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
Who was he? For a moment, Amir felt like getting up, switching the lights on, to kill the suspense, but something within urged him not to do so. He wanted to move his legs, his hands, but they seemed to have frozen, unable to move. Or was it he holding them back? He couldn’t be sure.
‘Why do you ask me this question? What is that you want to know?’, Amir asked after this brief moment of hesitation.
‘Just describe yourself.’
It was quite a funny game he was playing here, Amir thought. This might be a dream (can’t really be reality, can it?), and if it was a dream, where was the harm in getting on with it?
‘I am Amir…a nineteen-year old boy…born on the 7th of June, 1985…living in New Delhi right now… with my parents…ummm…thats it.’
‘Be precise.’
‘What do you mean?’
The figure sighed, shuffled a bit in its position, his face fixed on Amir all the time.
‘Are you sure of what you just said?’
‘Well,’ Amir said, half laughing, ‘there is hardly anything to be sure of. I am Amir and I was born in 1985. Is there anything to be wrong about there?’
‘But that isn’t what you said.’
Amir stared back at the figure. What was he exactly getting at? What sort of answer did he want?
‘OK. I am Amir, born into this world on the 7th of June, 1985. Does that satisfy you?’
‘How can you be so sure about the date?’
Now, this was getting silly. Amir began to feel a little irritated, not able to see the point in it all.
‘You don’t think I was there to note down the time and date of my own birth?’, Amir replied, a hint of restlessness very much noticeable, ‘My parents told me that it was in the evening of that day that I first saw this world, and I choose to believe them. Will this do for you?’
‘Tell me what you know. You alone.’
Amir clicked his tongue, tired of this seemingly silly dialogue. What does this man mean when he says ‘You Alone’? Did I know anything straight from my birth, from my mother’s womb, or wherever and whatever I was before that? Isn’t everything I know been told to me by the entities around me, living and non-living? And did I ever have a choice not to believe them and think otherwise?
‘I’m not sure I know exactly what you mean, but if I do, then I’ll just say that if there is anything I know, if there is anything I’m reasonably sure of, it is this – I am called Amir, and I’m living in 2004 A.D.. Saying anything else would be incorrect as per your question, I think.’
‘You answer correctly, my dear friend. Well, almost! Make sure you remember this answer. Remember that there is hardly anything else you can be reasonably sure of, and absolutely nothing else you can be confidently definite about.’
‘I don’t think I understand you.’
‘You will, eventually. Just remember what I’ve told you.’
And then, the figure disappeared, his silhouette dissolving into the air, as if it was never there anyway.
Amir woke up from his mother’s call at around eight in the morning. He could recall the meeting with the mysterious figure with remarkable clarity, but he couldn’t really make up his mind as to whether it happened for real or was it only a dream, a fantasy.
6 comments:
I am not sure I quite understand you either. I read it again, just in the hope of getting some substance out of the anecdote. But I have somehow missed it. Maybe you can help. The conversation is a lot more repetitive than desired for. I guess you understand that.
Then again, it seems that whatever you were trying to get at was good. You just didn't get to it.
:P
Well...it was the way I wanted it...and read it again, there is a definite direction towards which the conversation progresses...without actually being repetitive
vaise budhau tum ko tab bhi samajh na aaye to main samjha doonga...dont worry
mujhe bhi samajh nahi aaya!
picture this again:
Amir is not one of the brightest little teens around the block. He might even be dyslexic with that kind of imagination going around him.
He manages to question the reality of the world him, because he chooses to believe that the general perception of the world might not be true at all. He figures that the only answers that he can be confident about is what he knows himself.
Sadly, a nineteen year old twit doesn't have anything to say about himself except for the fact that he is nineteen year old and was born on a freaking date! The date is a matter of choice for him, because he can't be sure if his parents told him the right date... or possibly even they didn't know the right date anyway.
So how does Amir know that 2004 AD is the year in which he exists? Even that is a general perception of things around him. Disbelief leads to madness at the end of the day... as we observe in Amir II!
But now... turn the coat... look the figure that Amir sees. Imagination can put amazing constraints on your mind. He can see the figure, but he cannot touch it because touch would make the figure tactile... a physical presence is much more difficult to interpret than a metaphysical presence! Amir is just a kid trying to grow up. I hope he does...
I get your point regarding the 2004 AD thing.
When I wrote it, I thought that 2004 AD actually signifies 2004 years after Christ. As it has a reference point, Amir can be relatively sure about that.
But of course, what he 'alone' knows doesn't include whether Christ actually existed. So to ascertain the present year is also out of his reach.
My mistake. I agree.
Post a Comment