The monkey, the bird, and the king. I only hope this doesn’t end like Narnia.
Some realizations are dark, some aren’t, and some are just so aggressively timed and introduced into your life, that you are left with nothing more to do other than surrender your entire idea of existence into the act of fulfilling your destiny.
Things were different yesterday. Yesterday, no monkey spoke to me. I have spoken to the monkey on several occasions. I believe that the last time I tried speaking to the monkey, or perhaps one of the other forms he goes by, I really tried telling him that I believe in him.
He responded today.
When people talk of visions, the subject matter of the entire episode largely gets ignored and we end up focusing on the more irrelevant details, like the ‘how’ and ‘when’ of it. And talking about that, even to my parents, is perhaps as relevant and irritating as this orphan paragraph in an otherwise fantastically improbable story which is unfortunately, my truth. But, we will continue.
At this point, I must insist that I am no longer the person I once knew, as I am writing this.
Okay. Here goes. The Monkey Man.
The monkey-man (it appears to be alright for me to call him a different name every time) has a reputation for being forceful and intrusive in his approach, because he is very efficient. He gets things done. He is that thing within you, me, everyone, who gets things done. In one sense, he is a part of your soul, the part that supplies your willpower. The part that protects you, the part that trains you to be aggressively calm. I do not know if that makes sense, but that’s the best way I can describe him right now. He has this really bad rep in some of his other forms where he is credited as the destroyer? Unfair. He leaves the destruction part of it to souls like me. He introduces rifts between brothers to get someone like me to do the dirty work because that’s his role in the universe. And he is, indeed, an old soul.
Manipulative? Not how you would imagine.
Through innumerable chapters in time, the monkey-man has played his role as the great trainer, because he is meant to train. He bears bad news, carries your warriors, brings you medicine, relief, but keeps you on your path. There is really no escape from this monkey-man. I really hope, wherever he is, he understands that I have understood, I am not questioning the path, I am not denying my destiny. It is just taking me a little time to go about the destiny of which I have just become aware. Dear sir, it is a lot to take in. I do not know the language in which you want me to respond, so I’m trying to amuse you the best way I can. I am trying to make you laugh while you just consider the fact that I have listened, and there is no turning back for me. But please, allow me the time to think through this episode through my feeble lens of human consciousness, before I accept the deal. Have you seen The Matrix? Of course you have. You’re giving me two pills, sir. I need time to decide.
Okay. I think I’m talking to the monkey man now.
Fuck. This is crazy.
That’s right. I cursed. Look, sir, if my realizations are true, I have also come to understand that it is impossible to disobey your instructions. I have also understood that it is impossible to piss you off. I think and hope that you will excuse the crude language, because what you are now asking me to do, is, for the lack of a better word, ghastly. It spells doom for my human condition, but the only thing that I can do, about any form of verification in the matter, is to talk to you through my art. Believe me, this is me doing my best. If I’m falling short of the right words, kindly give me the wisdom to choose them in a manner that befits our relationship.
The whole king thing. No, I can’t do this.
I thought this would work on prose, but no — this is way too much knowledge-into-words improvisation for my tiny little head. Monkey-man has a giant head. How big? Beyond your comprehension of big. How lovely? Beyond your comprehension of lovely. Is it life-changing? Yes. Is it desirable? Fuck no.
Poetry now. I’m going to do what this other monkey-man conversationist does. I’m going to be cryptic. Monkey-man, forgive me. This is hard.
Sir, you are incomprehensible, delightful, extremely mystic, and the charm of it I can totally understand now — but if it is now in my place to say so as you have led me to believe, you are a complete and total pain in my ass.
No bird will die, no queen will be tormented this time around. I keep saying that all the time and things happen anyway, but we have come a long way, monkey-man. I’m smarter than you think now. Let’s do some poems now.
Bengalis read further. Sorry for troubling all you other folk. Which translates to zero readers, so I’m not hurting anyone by wasting their time, either, monkey-man.
বাঁদর তুমি কালিদাস বটে
তুমি ঈক্ষবকুর রাজকুমার।
আমি বললাম কালিদাস,
কেন বোলো দেখি
কাঁচালংকার স্বাদ মিষ্টি ?
দুস্মপ্ন বাদ দাও
নগরে করো প্রবেশ
কাজের করো শ্রীগণেশ
থাকবে প্রদেশের জায়গায়ই প্রদেশ
জিগেশ করলাম কালিদাস
এতো ভেলকি কেন দেখাও
সহজে বলে ফেলো কি কাজ বাকি
তুমি ঈক্ষবকুর রাজকুমার
বিজয়বধ কর্তব্য তোমার
হেলায় কাটিয়ে দিচ্ছ বেশ
বিপদ এলো ঘনিয়ে।
আমি বললাম কালিদাস
বিপদ আপদ তোমার সৃষ্টি তো?
তোমার বুকে নাকি আমি আছি
দেখাও তো দেখি
বাঁদর বলিলেন তোমার হয়ে
তোমার পকেটে ঘুরে বেড়িয়েছি
তুমি আমার বুকে মাথা ঠুকলে
তাই দেখোনি ঠিক করে
ঠিক আছে কালিদাস