A 1:1 with a murderer
He came, he saw, and guess what happened next
It started as a normal Sunday. As I looked outside the window, the river was like glass. Still, calm and serene. The sun was out and at 21C (69.8F) in was Goldilocks weather — everything was just right.
A kayak made a faint line in the water at a distance. Then an email notification popped on my phone; and along with it, I had a visitor.
He knew me very well. I must confess, he knew me more than I knew him.
In a moment, the serene backdrop was a blur. All I could feel was him.
He sat comfortably in his usual spot, opened up his bag of tools, which included hydra-like hands and a great collection of potions, and was already on Step 7 of his standard sequence in his modus operandi, which probably went up to a 100 steps.
The first few steps were too easy for him now — he could probably do them eyes closed.
His name is Anger.
But today, I invited him for a chat.
I sat up straight, took a couple of deep breathes and looked at him in the eye.
I : “Why are you here?”
He: “I never knew I needed your permission to visit”. There was nonchalance in his voice.
“Yes, today you do”. I paused and looked at him in the eye. I said nothing for a while.
Like a bully who is suddenly confronted, he tried the Power-Pose on me. Moments ticked.
I realised that surplus Oxygen and being looked at straight and deep into his pupils had unnerved him.
The Power-Pose was there, but his eyes dropped. I could sense his discomfort.
“But now that you are here, let us understand each other a bit better”.
“You have always allowed me in. I have been and am your ally. I have saved you in so many situations. Why would you not want me around?”
“I am sorry. You may have been my ally. But there has been blood on those battles; inside and out. You have fed off that blood — and now are big and dangerous”.
I realised that he was not comfortable with silence as well.
There was more silence.
“I am your selective identity. You are no one without me. Your friends and family would not even recognise you. I can help you.”
I could sense a change in tone — nonchalance had turned to emotional blackmail now. He had disengaged his hydra-like tools from a few parts — but still had a presence around my chest apart from his usual seat at my forehead and temples.
“Yes, I think so too. I think you can help me”
“See I told you”, he said with renewed confidence. “The potions I bring along have given you a hit many times”. He leaned forward as if to hush into my ears and said, “At times I wondered if you were addicted.”
“I think I need you. But your role will need to change. Your 100-step modus operandi will need to reset itself. Going forward, I will announce your arrival, Anger”.
“I will call you by your name, Anger; when I recognise you. You do not need permission to come in, but I will acknowledge you”
In a strange way, hearing his own name, made him lose another of those hydra-like grips he had on me.
He neither shrank nor shirked, but was dispossessed slightly.
“I will need you to change the way you move around here, Anger. I will give you space, I am going to watch you though.”
“What changes would you like me to make”. It felt like we were getting somewhere now.
“You will need to tell me the reason for your visit. You will need to dwell a bit longer before you open your toolkit. In fact, you may need a different tool kit in itself, Anger”
“Ok. Tell me more”. He was listening.
“I will need you to take some deep breathes and learn some logic, than get to work immediately”.
“So let me recap. You still think I am your ally. You still want me around”
“Yes”.
“You will give me more Oxygen and silence and will call me by my name”
“Yes, Anger”.
“You will look at me in the eye, as you are now”
“Yes”.
“I will need to learn some logic, give you a reason, and wait before I open my new toolkit”
“Yes”.
“Anything else”?
“I do not know. But that is a good start. We will figure it out as we go”
“Well, at least I get to visit”, he muttered under clenched teeth.
“I heard that. That should be it for now. You may leave”
